With A Little Help From My Friends

[dylan-dufresne.livejournal.com]

Title: With A Little Help From My Friends - 42/47
Author: dylan_dufresne
Pairing: BB/DM
Rating: PG-ish
Summary: An unexpected visitor, escaping the pain, finding something in common, and a not so festive holiday.
Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated as it’s my drug of choice. Many thanks to my beta, frojane.
Special Thanks: To loki_girl for the exquisite banner that she has created, and to tarnishedhalo for loaning me her inspirational manip for the centerpiece. I am so thankful and appreciative of you both, and your generosity.
Disclaimer: Not at all true in reality. This is my imagination at work.
A/N: Warning of angst, bring your kleenex, etc. You know the drill.
Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30 | 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 | 36 | 37 | 38 | 39 | 40 | 41


Chapter 42

When a pair of trainer clad feet enter Aureen’s line of sight, she looks up from the floor and stops rubbing at her temples, her attempt to alleviate the headache that’s been slowly forming all day. Recognizing the person before her, Aureen arches an eyebrow in surprise.

“Hello.”

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Monaghan,” Orlando offers in greeting.

“Orlando, how many times must I ask you to call me Aureen?” she gently chastises.

“At least once more, Mrs. Monaghan,” he replies, the familiar banter helping to ease the tension and uncertainty that had begun to build the moment he arrived. “As always.”

For the first time all day, she smiles, but only briefly. “It’s nice to see you, but if you’re here about Billy or Viggo-”

“I’m not,” he interrupts gently. “I’m here for Dom.”

“I’m afraid he’s not up for visitors right now,” she explains. “He’s sleeping at the moment, and Austin is sitting with him.”

“That’s fine. I was hoping to speak to you, actually,” Orlando reveals, a smile flashing across his face when Aureen’s eyes widen with surprise. “I brought tea,” he adds, pulling a thermos out of his messenger bag. “I thought you might like some that doesn’t taste like styrofoam.”

“That’s sounds lovely,” Aureen admits, sliding over and inviting him to sit beside her on the padded bench.

She watches as Orlando produces a ceramic mug, wrapped in a kitchen towel to protect it, and pours the tea into it, setting the cup of steaming liquid down at his thigh before reaching into his messenger bag again.

“I don’t have any milk, but I do have some honey, and a spoon,” he says, offering the items to her. “I hope that’ll do.”

“It’ll be just fine,” she replies. “Thank you.”

After the sticky sweetness has been stirred into the fragrant liquid, Aureen cradles the mug between her palms and leans back.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?”

Taking a deep breath, Orlando draws his dark curly hair off his face with long fingers before slowly exhaling.

“I’d like to tell you a story,” he says finally, memories causing his deep brown eyes to become cloudy.

“I’m listening.”

For a long while, Aureen says nothing, giving the younger man her full attention as he speaks. On several occasions, her eyes grow bright with unshed tears, and she murmurs her thanks when he wordlessly passes her a handkerchief from his jacket pocket. When he’s finally done, Aureen sets her half empty cup of tea on the bench behind her, and draws Orlando close for a long, quiet hug.

“Thank you,” she murmurs as they part.

“I know you have to do what’s best for Dom, but I think I might be able to help,” Orlando tells her, then bites down on his lower lip for a moment. “Think about it?”

“I will,” she promises.

“And if there’s anything I can do- Takeaway, tea, whatever. Call me, please. Anytime. You’ve got my mobile number.”

“All right.”

“I better go,” Orlando says after glancing at his watch. “I need to get home.”

Aureen presses her lips together as Orlando gathers his belongings, mulling over what he’s told her. He looks up and gives her a small smile.

“Thank you for listening.”

Hefting his messenger bag over his left shoulder, Orlando nods and then turns to leave, his goal of speaking to Aureen accomplished.

“Orlando?”

“Yes?” he says as he quickly turns back around.

“I will think about it,” she repeats. “And thank you.”

“You’re welcome, and if nothing else, maybe it’ll help you with Dom.”

After a brief smile, Orlando ducks his head and quietly walks away, hoping and praying that something he said will be of use to Aureen, and in turn, perhaps alleviate even a sliver of Dom’s pain. If that happens, it’ll be worth it.

If not, he has no idea what will reach his friend. For now, all he can do is wait, and hope that Aureen calls.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Grief appears to have stolen the last of Billy’s reserve of strength, because he sleeps soundly for several hours, and after Maggie coaxes him into having a cup of soup and some tea, he curls up on the couch and promptly falls asleep again. Feeling utterly helpless, and not sure what to do, Maggie lets him rest, and passes the time by checking on Mark periodically, bringing him some lunch, and returning to the kitchen for a second plate when she discovers that Drew has arrived to help out.

The young man seems eager to learn, and Mark tells Maggie that he quite enjoys his company, and doesn’t mind looking after him. Over the last couple of weeks, they’ve gotten to know each other, and have become friends. After ensuring that the book shop is in very capable hands, Maggie returns to the flat above and fixes herself a cup of tea before settling in with a book, hoping to distract herself from staring at the clock, or the phone.

The next time Billy awakens, he disappears into the loo for a few minutes before shuffling back to the living room, sitting down and then aimlessly scanning the room, seemingly unsure of what to do with himself.

“Can I make you some tea?” Maggie asks, her head tipped to one side.

Billy shakes his head.

“A sandwich?”

Again, he responds in a silent negative.

“Do you want to read a book or watch some television?” she prods gently, hoping to get a verbal reply, but she’s denied a third time when he shrugs noncommittally.

Sighing under her breath, Maggie decides to turn on the stereo, thinking that music might be a welcome distraction, and a way to make the silence seem less obvious. Without checking to see which CD is in the machine, she presses play, and a moment later, a familiar rhythm is heard, followed almost immediately by a whimper of distress. It’s as Maggie turns around to investigate that it dawns on her who the band is, and can only watch helplessly as Billy flees the room, desperate to get away from the cheerful tones of The Beatles.

"Billy," she cries out after silencing the music as quickly as possible. "I'm sorry."

The bedroom door slams shut, and Maggie hurries down the hall after Billy, pausing before starting to twist the door knob. She wonders if perhaps she should leave him alone, but can’t make herself walk away without at least checking on him. Ever so slowly, she inches open the door, pausing when her gaze finds her brother curled up in a chair in the corner, staring out the window.

“Billy, I-”

“It’s okay, Mags,” Billy whispers. “I’m all right.”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats.

“I know.”

“Do you want me to leave you be for a bit?” she asks softly.

Biting down on his lower lip, Billy nods in reply.

“Okay. If you need me, I’ll be close.”

“Aye.”

Hoping to tempt Billy with the aroma of delicious food, Maggie disappears into the kitchen, and proceeds to prepare all of his favorites. She’s so caught up in the work that she doesn’t see him slip silently into the living room for a moment to retrieve a few items, and then return to the bedroom. It’s after half five by the time Maggie finally musters up the nerve to intrude on Billy again, and when she cracks open the bedroom door, she gasps in shock.

Sprawled on the coverlet, Billy is surrounded by several photo albums, dozens of pictures scattered around his prone body, and one is clutched in his good hand. It’s clear that Billy has spent hours poring over them, wrapping himself up in memories as well as shedding numerous tears, and unless Maggie’s mistaken, he’s ingested a substantial amount of alcohol in the process. She leans in close to smell his breath, but stops when she spots the empty bottle of scotch on the floor, half-hidden under the bed.

“Oh, Billy,” she sighs quietly.

Moving around the bed almost silently, Maggie gathers up the photo albums and loose pictures, stacking them on the bureau, where they’ll be safe. The exception is the photograph Billy is holding, his grip tight enough that she couldn’t unobtrusively dislodge it. Curious to know what image her brother can’t let go of, she leans in, craning her neck to get a quick look, eyes widening a moment later. The moment captured is clearly an intimate one, as Dom’s eyes are dark with sated passion, lips rosy and his hair mussed, and he’s smiling ever so tenderly, sprawled on his back, bare to the waist, if not entirely. Billy must’ve been the one behind the lens, Maggie decides, knowing that Dom only looks at her brother that way.

Leaving the photo where it is, Maggie carefully covers Billy with the tartan blanket as she did this morning, and places a glass of water on the night stand before slipping out of the room once again. It’s unlikely that Billy will wake again tonight, the alcohol giving him the escape from reality that he so desperately needs. Halfway down the hall, she pauses, and then makes a decision. A quick trip is made down the stairs to the shop below, and Maggie invites Drew and Mark to join her for a quiet dinner, to thank them for all their hard work. Almost immediately, Mark accepts, hoping that they’ll be able to provide some distraction, especially when she tells them that Billy won’t be joining them.

The food Maggie made doesn’t go to waste, thanks to a hungry, teenaged boy, and she grateful for the company, even if it’s just for a short while. She invites Drew to come back whenever he wants, and even insists on paying him for the hours he’s been working at the shop, knowing that’s what Billy would want. The young man gratefully accepts, and is smiling when he’s picked up by Janeanne and taken back to the group home in time for curfew. Maggie can tell that Mark is tired, so she excuses herself shortly after the dishes have been loaded into the dishwasher, so she doesn’t keep him up.

The flat is quiet by eight o’clock, but it’s well after midnight before Maggie’s eyes close, concern for her brother causing sleep to be elusive and erratic at best. The last thought she has before surrendering is the desperate prayer that Aureen calls in the morning, and that this nightmare will finally end. She’s not sure how much more Billy can take.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The steady beeping of his heartbeat registering on the machine beside his hospital bed, and the pressure against the tip of his index finger from the monitor clip are the first things that seep into Dom’s consciousness as he awakens, followed by the sensation that he’s not alone in the hospital room.

Blinking to clear his vision, Dom lets his head roll to one side, and his heart sinks at the realization that it’s not Billy who’s at his side, like in his dreams, waiting for him to open his eyes. Despite his fervent hope, he hasn’t awoken from this horrible nightmare.

“You’re awake,” Orlando says quietly, closing the book he’s been reading while Dom slept and setting it aside. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” Dom rasps in reply, his voice weak from disuse.

“Hungry?” Nodding at the narrow table on wheels sitting at the foot of the bed, Orlando adds, “The nurse dropped off your lunch tray about ten minutes ago. She mentioned that you haven’t eaten anything since you got out of ICU yesterday.”

“Not hungry,” Dom says flatly.

“All right then,” Orlando replies. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

Silently, Dom nods, and then scrubs a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up a wee bit.

“Thank you, by the way, for agreeing to see me,” Orlando says quietly. “I was glad when Aureen called this morning.”

“Mum said you two had a nice talk yesterday,” Dom tells him, one eyebrow arched ever so slightly in speculation. “She wouldn’t say what about, though. She also said that you didn’t know- About me, I mean. My-”

“No, I didn’t,” Orlando interjects, seeing the excess moisture building up in Dom’s eyes. “Not until after you found out.”

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” Orlando adds gently. “It’s so bloody unfair, after all the good you’ve done, helping kids in the neighborhood, trying to make a difference. I just wanted you to know that I understand, you know, how you feel.”

Dom raises a now dubious eyebrow, but says nothing, and Orlando pulls his chair closer before settling into it so they can talk, face to face without Dom turning his head too much.

“I’m sure you hate that already, people acting like they know just how you’re feeling, telling you they understand, when they’re not the one lying in a hospital bed.”

“Yeah,” Dom grudgingly admits, glancing down at his now useless lower body.

“Well, I’m not like them, because I’ve been in that bed,” Orlando reveals, watching as Dom’s jaw drops in shock.

“What?”

“I was just twenty-one years old, and at a mate’s house for lunch on a Sunday,” Orlando explains, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “The door to the roof terrace was stuck, warped by the weather or something, so I climbed out the window. I figured I could force the door open from the other side. Well, I stepped on a gutter, and when I put my weight on it, it gave way. I fell three stories, landing right next to a pile of iron railings and a rusted out washing machine. At the hospital they discovered that I crushed one vertebra, and fractured another three.”

“Jesus, Orli-”

“The doctors told me that I might never walk again.”

Dom’s eyes widen with surprise. “But you’re-”

“I had an operation, over six hours long, where a couple of surgeons pieced me back together with pins and plates, and I’ve got a long scar on my spine to remind me of it. As you can see, it worked, and I walked out of the hospital on crutches twelve days later,” Orlando continues. “I had to wear a back brace for months while I healed, but I managed to finish school, and go after my dream of becoming a veterinarian.”

“Wow.”

“So, while I wasn’t shot, I do know that fear and helpless feeling,” Orlando finishes quietly, his eyes brighter than usual. “I’ve been where you are. I wanted you to know that you’re not alone, that I’m here, if you ever want to talk.”

“Thank you.”

“I don’t just mean talk about shite hospital food, either. If you want to talk about Billy or anything else, it won’t leave this room. I give you my word.”

“Please, don’t-” Dom says, fat tears welling up in his eyes at the mention of Billy’s name. “I can’t-”

“I’m not here to judge you, Dom,” the other man interjects, reaching out to lay a hand on Dom’s forearm. “I’m your friend, and I want to help if I can, even if that means sitting here and not talking. Whatever you need.”

“Can you understand why I did it?” Dom asks unsteadily, his eyes unbearably sad. “Why I won’t see him?”

“Well, my guess is that at first you were hurt that he didn’t tell you himself, and wondered why he wasn’t with you when you did find out,” Orlando replies after taking a moment to consider his words. “I feel terrible that you didn’t have your family or friends around you. I can’t even imagine how that felt.”

“Yeah, it bloody hurt all right,” Dom huffs out and then grimaces, shifting his position slightly before settling again.

“And now I’m thinking that you’ve had time to realize that your life is going to be very different from now on, and you don’t want to be a burden to him,” Orlando adds, holding Dom’s gaze. “Right now it hurts too much to hope for a happy ending, and you know that he’d sacrifice everything for you. In a heartbeat.”

“I can’t let him do that,” Dom whispers hoarsely, blinking rapidly, his eyelashes wet. “I just can’t. He’s worked too hard for me to fuck it all up.”

“The book shop,” Orlando murmurs under his breath, nodding thoughtfully. “His dream.”

Hot tears spill down Dom’s cheeks, and he swipes ineffectually at the salty dampness.

“I love Billy too much to let him do that,” Dom finishes, his eyes closing in a silent effort to hold back the waves of pain. “He’ll be better off without me, weighing him down. I’d be a burden, and eventually he’d resent me. I’d be a daily reminder of what he lost.”

“Well, I think you’re underestimating the power of your presence in Billy’s life, and how losing you is going to affect him,” Orlando tells him as he offers some kleenex from the bedside table to the younger man. “But it is your choice.”

After taking a moment to compose himself somewhat, Dom opens his mouth to reply, only to pause when a faint mewling fills the air. Curious, he looks over the edge of the bed. “What the-”

“Whoops. I lost track of time,” Orlando murmurs sheepishly as he leans down to the duffle bag at his feet that he’d lined with a small, soft blanket and a hot water bottle. He reaches inside, and a moment later, produces a puppy, clearly no more than a few weeks old, if that. “And I think somebody wants her lunch.”

“You brought a dog into a hospital?”

Glancing up, Orlando shoots Dom an apologetic look. “I’m sorry. I was at the clinic by myself when Aureen called and said you’d agreed to see me. We’ve been taking turns taking care of her. It’s my day to puppy-sit, and I couldn’t leave her there by herself. I also didn’t want to tell your Mum no. This was the compromise.”

As Dom watches, Orlando pulls a small bottle of formula with a tiny rubber nipple out of his jacket pocket, removes the protective cap and teases the puppy into taking it, murmuring gently, encouraging it to suckle. The chocolate colored bundle of fur burrows into the warmth of Orlando’s hand, eagerly drinking, the soft sounds causing the veterinarian to smile.

Dom purses his lips in thought, and looks over at the door to his room, noticing that it’s slightly ajar. “Are you allowed to-”

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Orlando says hopefully.

“Deal.”

“I also thought you might like to see her,” Orlando explains. “I always loved the feeling of a puppy, back to when I was just a boy. They’re so soft and vulnerable, eager to be held and loved. And they love to give kisses.”

Head rolling to one side, Dom gazes at the nursing puppy. “She’s beautiful,” he says quietly.

“Would you like to hold her?”

Silently, Dom nods, and within a few moments, Orlando has the puppy resting on Dom’s chest, right over his heart, where the soothing beat keeps the tiny charge quiet and content.

“What’s wrong with her?” Dom asks as he cradles the puppy in the palm of his hand.

“Nothing. She’s just small, and the other pups wouldn’t let her near their mum to feed. She needs some extra care, that’s all,” Orlando replies fondly. “Slowly but surely, she’s gaining weight. She’ll be fine.”

“Good.”

Orlando sits back and doesn’t say a word as Dom continues to feed the puppy, adjusting the bottle when the level of formula dips low. Caught up in the tiny bundle of innocent life, Dom forgets about his injury for a few moments, and buries his nose in the soft, dark brown fur, inhaling the sweet scent, and then he remembers all the times that Billy help him close, comforting him when he was sad.

“So what’s her name?” Dom inquires as he looks up to meet Orlando’s gaze, needing something to distract him before he loses control of his emotions and body racking sobs overtake him again.

“I don’t know yet. I thought maybe you might like to name her,” Orlando replies, a bit cautiously.

“Me?”

Before Dom can say another word, the puppy releases the nipple she’s been suckling, pushes herself up onto wobbly front paws into order to reach his face, and laps at the salty tears clinging to his scruffy jaw line with her tiny pink tongue.

“She seems rather fond of you,” Orlando adds with a small smile. “But you don’t have to decide right now. You’ve got some time. She won’t be ready to be on her own for quite a while.”

“Okay,” Dom says with a nod, stroking the puppy’s nose with the tip of his index finger and cradling her small body to his chest with his other hand.

“And perhaps you might consider that Billy doesn’t think of you as a burden, but as the man he loves, and wants to be with, no matter what,” Orlando adds gently. “That’s just my take on things, of course.”

“Orli, please-” Dom begs. “I can’t.”

After exhaling a quiet sigh, Orlando pushes himself out of the chair and leans over Dom, cradling the puppy in his hands and nestling her into the curve of his own neck before pressing a feathery kiss to the top of Dom’s head.

“Just think about it,” Orlando whispers.

“Okay,” Dom replies, his voice barely a rasp.

Taking a step back, Orlando swallows hard. “Can I come back tomorrow?”

“I’d like that,” Dom tells him as he nods.

“All right then. I’ll be here,” other man promises. “Try to eat, yeah? And then get some sleep.”

“Okay.”

For Orlando’s benefit, Dom smiles until he and the puppy have gone, and then looks over at the window, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes while the snow continues to fall. Orlando was right about him wanting to protect Billy, and the hurt he’s feeling, how lost and abandoned he felt, but Dom didn’t tell Orlando that he wonders if Billy was avoiding telling him because he was at least considering ending things between them. Perhaps, on a subconscious level, Billy knows it can’t possibly work out between them, and is avoiding Dom until he can lie convincingly or persuade himself otherwise.

Whatever the reason, it all leads to the same place for Dom. It’s clear that he needs to let Billy go, so at least one of them has a chance of being happy. It’s certainly not going to be him.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

“When are you going to call him?” Aureen asks, finally breaking her silence on the subject of Billy. “It’s been four days.”

Looking over at his mother, the position of her settled in the chair beside his hospital bed now very familiar, Dom can’t hold her intense gaze, and he quickly looks away.

“I can’t.”

“It’s not fair to him, what you’re doing.”

“It’s better this way,” Dom replies flatly. “I won’t- I can’t be the-”

“What?” Aureen inquires when Dom falls silent. “Why do you let him believe that- This isn’t a question of whether or not he loves you. We both know he does.”

“He would give up everything he’s worked for his whole life, for me, and I can prevent that,” Dom explains quietly, his eyes growing bright. “I know he’s hurting now, and I’m sorry for that, but isn’t that better than having him resent me, after losing his dream? Ruining his life?”

“You’re assuming that this is the best your life can be, and that’s very premature right now,” Aureen argues, pushing herself out of the chair and moving over to perch on the mattress at her son’s hip.

“Mum, please-” Dom begs, his voice catching. “I know you don’t agree with me, but if you leave now-”

“What?” Aureen interrupts, her eyes wide with shock. “Your father and I are not going anywhere, Dominic. I may think you’re making the biggest mistake of your life, but I’m not going to lose you again. I’m staying right here.”

The relief is clear in Dom’s tormented eyes when Aureen moves closer and takes his left hand in hers, the other stroking his hair. Gratefully, he clings to her strength, willing the ache in his heart to fade.

“When I get out of the hospital-”

“You want to come back to Manchester with us, don’t you?” she asks knowingly.

Sniffling, Dom nods. “I can’t stay here. Not when he’s so close.”

“All right,” she agrees reluctantly. “I’ll start working on getting you into a facility.”

“Thank you.”

“But if Billy shows up here before you’re released, I won’t send him away,” Aureen informs him, her tone firm. “The look on his face when I told him that you didn’t want to see him- It haunts me. I can’t do it again. You’ll have to talk to him, sooner or later.”

Silently, Dom nods and then closes his eyes, taking slow, measured breaths in an attempt to bring his emotions back under control, telling himself that it’ll stop hurting so much soon. The deep pain of his loss, of the only man he’s ever loved will start to fade.

Eventually.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Mark shifts from one foot to the other, his brow furrowed in concern as he fiddles with the zipper of his winter coat.

“Are you sure about this, Maggie?” he asks, looking around the book shop again.

“Aye, I’ll be fine,” she assures him. “You need to catch the train. Emily will be waiting for you.”

“I can stay a few more days,” he tells her, almost desperately. “I really don’t mind.”

“Mark, your pregnant wife has been patient long enough,” Maggie says firmly. “You need to be there for Christmas.”

“But how are you going to handle the book shop and Billy?”

“Right now he’s waiting for Dom to call,” Maggie replies quietly. “There’s nothing I can do for him, except make sure he doesn’t hurt himself when he starts to lose hope. He’s been quiet for a few days, and now that I’ve cleaned out the liquor cabinet, he can’t drown his sorrows there. All I can do is make sure he eats, takes his medication at the scheduled times, and at least tries to rest.”

“I feel like I’m abandoning you,” Mark murmurs, shaking his head. “I-”

“Nonsense. You’ve been here for almost two weeks,” Maggie reminds him. “You’ve done an amazing job of cleaning up the book shop, and even found Drew to help me run things until Billy is up to it.”

“If there’s something I can do-”

“I’ll call,” Maggie interrupts. “And I’ll keep you posted on any developments. I promise.”

Mark sighs heavily. “I just wish Dom would call.”

“Me too.”

Looking down at his watch, Mark grimaces and blinks to clear his moistened eyes. “I need to go or I’ll miss my train.”

“Thank you, for everything,” Maggie tells him as they share a brief hug. “And give my love to Emily, and my congratulations. I’m sure she’ll be a wonderful mother.”

“I’ll do that,” Mark agrees, nodding his head. “We’ll talk soon, yeah?”

“Of course.”

“All right then.” Reaching down and scooping up his duffle bag, Mark hefts it over his shoulder and tries to smile.

“Have a safe trip.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“Aye,” Maggie says, her smile wobbly and eyes suspiciously bright. “Merry Christmas.”

She watches from the front window of the book shop until Mark’s taxi pulls away from the curb and disappears from sight. Releasing a heavy sigh, Maggie then closes up the shop for the night, thankful that Mark has left her detailed instructions on how things need to be done. Considering the fact that Billy hasn’t gotten dressed in three days, she’s doubtful that he’ll be showing up to work downstairs anytime soon. Until things improve, it’ll be up to her and Drew to manage things.

In addition to running the shop, it’s also a challenge for Maggie to make sure Billy eats something, and even when he’s finally coerced into doing so, the amount is not nearly enough to sustain him. Food holds no joy, much like all the other daily activities that Billy used to share with Dom. The strain of the last several weeks is taking a heavy toll on her brother, showing itself in his haggard appearance and obvious weight loss. Although Maggie can’t bring herself to say the words aloud, it’s as though Dom has died, and Billy is now mourning the loss of his beloved, resulting in him being completely inconsolable.

When Billy sleeps, it’s a relief to Maggie, because for a short while, he can escape the crushing sadness weighing him down. She knows that under normal circumstances, he would never sit back and passively wait for anything, but after the enormous, emotional challenges he’s been through of late, his reserve of strength is gone. Right now, Billy’s clinging to the edge of a cliff, white-knuckled and muscles screaming for relief, hoping that any moment, the phone call will finally come. That’s what will save him from this nightmarish existence, and Billy won’t do anything to jeopardize it.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

Chapter 43