I’m speechless for I don’t know how long.
Something like that never, ever, entered my mind and I’m in free fall and feeling sick inside at the thought of my wonderful, decent, gentle, sweet, loving, brilliant Clive actually doing something like that, which seems so desperate and not like what he would do. Almost worse is the thought of him suffering so much that he’d get to that point.
“No one knows,” he whispers. “Please don’t tell.”
I stare at him and swallow and finally hear myself whispering, “Never. Never…don’t worry…when…when did it happen?”
“A little over two years ago.”
“What happened?”
He bites the corner of his lip and he looks so sad suddenly, so alone and so young. “I was home alone one night and the maids had gone to bed.” He stares off, a hurt look on his face, as if he’s reliving it. “I wanted to call someone, to talk to someone, anyone, because I felt so lost. Do you know how that feels, Gia? To need to talk to someone and have no one in the whole world to call who will listen to you? No one to confide in or trust? No one who cares? I went over all the names of the people I knew and I realized I had no one—not one friend to call. No one I could talk to who would understand everything. I started thinking that I had nothing to live for anyway and that if I were dead it wouldn’t matter to anyone.” He shrugs. “My parents obviously didn’t care enough about me because they were never home and their work was more important that I was…”
I stare at him and feel the tears welling up behind my eyes.
“It was so easy, Gia. Just me and the razor. It would be over fast. So I went into the toolbox and grabbed a new blade out of the pack and did it—one straight clean cut, then another.”
“Who found you?”
“My dad. He came home for a day or two—I wasn’t expecting him.
“His timing was impeccable because I had just done it.”
“Oh God, Clive…what happened then?”
“He called an ambulance…there was blood everywhere. I fell on the bathroom floor and nearly passed out…but he screwed it up for me like he ruins everything in my life.” He looks off again, sadness spreading over his face.
“What happened after that?”
“Therapy. Lots of therapy. Talking, talking, talking about everything. Pills. I was sleeping, sleeping, sleeping. It was like I was lost in a dream for two months. And nurses here, all the time, like prison guards. And then I stayed with my aunt and uncle.”
“And now?”
“Now what?”
“Tell me you’ll never do it again, Clive, please, please.”
“I will never do it again,” he says, repeating the words like an obedient child.
“You mean it, Clive? I want you to mean it, you have to, because I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you,” I say as hot tears pour from my eyes because it hits me how much he means to me and I don’t have many people either. And it’s selfish to be thinking about me and what I need when this is all about him, but that’s what I’m feeling and my father is leaving me and Michael is afraid to call me and I have so little left, and he is one of only two true friends I have in the entire world. And I love him so.
“I can’t lose you, Clive Laurent,” I whisper. “I can’t. Do you hear me? I love you and need you and you are so much a part of my life and you have to be here for me because I am here for you no matter what, no matter when, no matter anything, ever, ever, ever. Do you understand?”
“I hear you, Gia, I do. And I mean it,” he says. “I was different then. Younger, whatever. I don’t want to lose you either, Gia, so promise me you’ll be here for me.”
“No matter what. You have my word. And my word is everything.”
“Because you’re the don’s daughter,” he says, super straight-faced, mocking me, making those stupid quote marks with his fingers.
“Yes, and just shut up,” I answer, sticking my tongue out at him, which makes him laugh. Although what I want to do is cry because I think of my dad again and how I don’t know when he’ll be back, and how I hate good-byes.
I suddenly yank my gold earring out of my ear and prick my middle finger with the post, then grab his finger and prick it too. We press our fingers together and our blood mixes, and through my tears I smile at him.
“You’re now a made man,” I say. “Welcome to my family.”
And Clive is crying and laughing too and he looks happier than I’ve ever seen him and we hug and hug, and just screw everything else in the world that isn’t right because he’s the world to me and it feels like all the black clouds have lifted and that we’re floating together in this new universe of oneness and happiness and special friendship and closeness and love…
And then my cell rings.