Left Behind to Pick up the Pieces

Looking back, Angelo would have put the past few days as some of the absolute worst week of his life. He had almost died once before, but he'd been unconscious for that. He'd been dead to the world.

Now he just wished he'd been dead to the world. He'd slept for much of the past few days, desperate to escape. But there was only so much sleeping a person could go, and in the end he'd been left alone in his room with his thoughts. That was the worst part. His thoughts, running at the speed of sound through a million different options. A million different what ifs. He he been wrong about Broen doing better? Had the heart to heart they'd had made things worse?

In the end he wasn't sure which option was worse: If he'd misjudged Broen and failed to notice the warning signs of what was to come, or if he'd been correct about them and something else had happened.

It was why he was there. Because he had to know. If he didn't know, he was going to drive himself insane. He was going to spend the rest of his life wondering, seeking for an answer that might not even have existed.

He had to know.

Angelo sat in the chair at the hotel bar, off to the side. Plenty of people met there, but on that day, at ten in the morning? It was empty. It wasn't breakfast, and it wasn't lunch, and people were in school or at work. There was only one other couple, two businessmen he'd intentionally sat on the far side of the place from, and a waiter had taken one look at Angelo's face, dropped off two glasses of water, and told him to call if he needed anything.

Angelo looked like a mess. There was no smile on his face, and even a quick glance would tell the looker he'd spent the last few days crying. His eyes were red and puffy as he looked at his phone, flipping through photos and making himself feel infinitely worse. Did everyone know? Maybe. Had it spread to the school yet? Did people who only know him casually know? A part of him wanted no one to know. A part of him wanted everyone.

He didn't notice when Zora had arrived. Not right away. He was too buried in his own phone, too distracted. He should have known. He was waiting for her after all. But instead he was too distracted, too wrapped up in his own thoughts, and it was only when she spoke that he jumped, startling slightly as he quickly tapped a few things on his phone, turning off the screen and setting it down on the table.

At least his hands were free, but he didn't make any attempt to shake her hand or anything formal like that. They were both wrecks, and he wasn't going to be doing anything more than sitting down for the meeting most likely.

He was trying not to cause a scene.

"Zora," he said, giving a small nod of acknowledgement, his voice cracking. He took a moment to compose himself, reaching forward for his glass of water and sipping it back.

"I - I just want to know what happened," he finally said after a moment.

Technically speaking, no one had told him Zora had been there. The police weren't supposed to. But they'd told him Broen had died in a private residence (not the school), and it hadn't been his own. Where else would it be? It was in all the wordings. Not that he'd been killed. That he'd died. That they were still confirming things. Suicide. Angelo had told him that much.

So where else? Zoras. And Broen... why would Broen have gone to her house alone to die?

"Active investigation," Angelo said, as if Zora would know exactly what that meant. Technically, any case where it was questionable what had happened needed to be investigated. It wasn't as if they could just slam the case closed because someone said someone else killed themselves. They had to find out how he died, and why, and then--after a few days--finally close the case and pass on the findings.

Angelo looked pale, and his hands bunched in his lap, squeezing into fists as he tried to make himself breath. Willing himself not to freak out. Not to make things worse than they already were. He wasn't looking straight at her. He couldn't. If he did he was going to scream and cry and that'd be the end of the conversation.

"They didn't - its - it's still an investigation. So they couldn't tell me. Officer - he said he'd tell me, when they were done. When it was all finished." And supposedly Broen had stuff. And the funeral.

They were going to have to talk about that, weren't they? Maybe. Maybe not.

"I just -" His voice cracked again, and he forced himself to take a nice, deep breath. "I just don't understand how it got to this. He was doing better." How had a fight escalated to this?

The story she was telling didn't make sense. Not all of it. The people not getting him made sense. It had been almost word for word what he'd said to Angelo only a few days ago. That he was different. That he was never going to be able to fit in.

Angelo had thought he'd given him a solution, and he reached up, rubbing at his temples and trying to make himself breath.

Just breath, he reminded himself.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

He sat in silence for a long while, listening to the sounds of Zora breaking down without looking at her. He couldn't. If he did...

Well, he wouldn't. He couldn't.

He'd wait until the worst of it was over, until the tears had subsided, and then spoke again, his voice so quiet it was barely audible.

"I want to see."

There was an idea growing in the pit of his stomach. An explanation. An argument. An argument to the last, vital words: That she was taking away his options.

What options were there to take away?

The answer felt so obvious to him when she talked about being a mother.

"Are you pregnant?" He said, his tone almost desperate. It made perfect sense to him. Why they'd argued. She'd told Broen she was pregnant. Broen had wanted to abort. He'd never wanted to be a father, never wanted that life. But it was something he had no choice in. If Zora said I'm having the child, that would push him over the edge. If she said You don't have to be in their life, it would make things worse.

Broen would have died instead. Was that the secret she was trying to keep, not letting him see what had happened?