[March 31, 22:00]
The game was a riot. Don had wondered if he should try to tone himself down a little, since a good hockey game could turn him into a real maniac. But when Juliana yelled something in Dutch at the first questionable referee call, he knew he could be as crazy as he normally was when Danny was seated next to him. They cheered and jeered with the crowd and celebrated when the Rangers eventually won 4-3. Neither of them wanted to go home, so they decided on dinner instead. They had pizza at Ray's, where the woman pouted and said she would never be able to look at Dutch pizza the same way ever again. They talked about hockey and their hobbies until the cashier politely informed them the store was closing.
Now the New York nightlife was just getting started, and they were taking a walk along Brooklyn Bridge, still postponing the end of their night. The man stopped near the middle of the bridge, leaning on the railing. It was quieter here, a little further from the bustle of the streets. A good place for romantic walks or peaceful contemplation.
She stopped next to him, her shoulder against his, looking out at the water. "I never told you how I almost drowned," she said, watching the dark eddies swirl by.
He had forgotten about that. "How exactly did that happen? You're a good swimmer."
"Alcohol," she said ruefully. "At my high school, it was a senior tradition to have a party in the school pool the day before graduation. The teachers knew about it, but they pretended not to. It was just a bit of fun and the students always cleaned up after themselves." She ran a hand through her hair. "My year, I had a few beers like everyone else. And I decided to see if I could swim a lap on the bottom of the pool, in one breath."
It didn't take a detective to figure it out from there. "You blacked out."
Juliana nodded. "I was told I didn't make a sound. I didn't even float to the surface. But Wilhelmina got this feeling that something was terribly wrong and came looking for me. She saved me. The best swimmer in the school, saved from drowning."
"I'm guessing you and Wilhelmina got along after that."
"Oh we had always gotten along." Juliana traced a meandering pattern on the rail. "Wilhelmina was my twin sister."
Don felt a sudden stillness. Was. "I'm sorry," he murmured, pulling her into a one-armed hug. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," he said quietly.
She put her head on his shoulder. "It was a long time ago. She went to Amsterdam for university because she wanted to live in a big city. She never even finished her first year. She was stabbed in the back late at night. They found her body in an alley the next morning."
Something he'd skimmed over in Hawkes's analysis of the hospital's report came to mind. Vital organs and major musculoskeletal structures intact. Wound severity moderate. Blood loss moderate accounting for victim's above average height and good physical condition. Mobility and vocal capacity adequate to seek assistance following initial injury. They had doubted Hawkes, but he was right all along. "You didn't go for help."
The woman sighed. "I thought it was my time. God's plan for me to die the same way Wilhelmina did. A cruel joke for twins." A pause. "But then you came along. And I thought maybe it wasn't my time after all."
"You said you heard-" He tried again. "You said you heard my voice. When you were in the alley. Did you... did you also hear what I said?" he asked haltingly. "The words I said?"
Juliana pulled away to look at him. The anguished expression he wore was identical to the one she had seen in the mirror, on and off for the past thirteen years. "Yes," she answered. Her body was cold and her mind was foggy, but she remembered him telling her she would be alright. "But I don't think you're asking about me in that alley."
The man dropped his arm from around her and gripped the railing with both hands. He hung his head. Nearly a year and God it still hurt so much. Had breathing always required so much effort?
Ah. He had lost someone too. "I find it helps to talk about it." She placed her hand gently on top of his. "What was their name?" she asked softly.
He looked up, blinking to keep the tears at bay. "Jess," he choked out. "Jessica Angell." No good. A tear rolled down his cheek and splashed onto the sidewalk. "She was my girlfriend. And a damn good cop."
Juliana felt a surge of sympathy for him. She knew all too well what he was feeling. "You were with her, weren't you?" Slowly, she coaxed his hand off the rail and laced her fingers between his. A spot of warmth. Of understanding and the shared pain of loss.
"I heard it happen over the phone. She'd been shot." The bang, then the chaos. The mess of the diner, glass everywhere. His angel lying on the floor. "I got her in the car and I told her to stay with me. I told her she was gonna be alright," he said thickly. The blood was all over his hands and Jess's big brown eyes were glassy. The patrol car went as fast as it could, and it still wasn't fast enough. He wiped his eyes but the tears kept coming.
"She heard you," she said comfortingly. "And I think Jessica fought as hard as she could to stay."
"If she heard me, I should've told her that I loved her," he said, his voice cracking. There. He admitted it. His biggest regret. He never said it. He thought there would be time. Even as she bled all over his lap, he believed she would pull through. Because he couldn't face the possibility that she might not. He still remembered that excruciating moment when he first told Danny 'She's gone'. A sob escaped him and the dam gave way.
Juliana said nothing. She stood beside him and held his hand while he cried, wondering if this was the first time he had let the floodgates open. She hadn't let herself cry about Wilhelmina for months. There was always another shift to work. Another meal to cook. Another homework question that needed her help. But when the grief finally struck, the only way past it was to feel the pain. To be pulled under by the riptide of sadness, tumbled by the sorrow, and hope that you would surface before you drowned. The woman held Don's hand, a silent lifeline. The minutes passed, broken by the quiet sounds of his breakdown and the occasional car sped by behind them. Slowly, the cars dwindled, and so did Don's tears.
What felt like an eternity later, the man took a deep breath. The night air was cool, almost cold. He wiped more tears away and took another slow breath. Some tiny speck of control returned to him.
There. He had surfaced. Juliana squeezed his hand. This way to shore. She looked away from him, towards the bright lights of the city, giving him time to compose himself.
Soon enough, Don extricated his hand from hers and cleared his throat. He rubbed his hands over his face and took another deep breath of the soothing night air. "Sorry. I didn't mean to unload on you," he mumbled.
She turned back to him. How she recognized that puffy, red-eyed look too. "Don't apologize." She said nothing more, but he could probably read her thoughts on her face. She knew what it was like to lose someone you loved with your whole heart. She didn't think any less of him for bawling his eyes out. It was her turn to be the shoulder to cry on. And if he wanted guidance, well, she had years of experience.
"Does it get any easier?" he asked quietly.
"In some ways," she told him. "There are more days between the pain. You don't have to be busy to avoid thinking about her after a while. But when it hurts... it hurts the same. Just as much as it did the day you found out she was gone."
Great.
"But you find ways to keep on living without forgetting. Wilhelmina was the fun twin. I am the serious twin. After she died, I tried to have more fun and plan less. Because that is what she always wanted. The number of times she begged me to do spontaneous things," she shook her head. She would never forget how her twin said 'Juliaaana, alstublieft' every time. "So I try to make choices to honour her. Like accepting a verbal job offer and moving across the ocean. Or running off to Central Park with a handsome local." She smiled at him. "So far, it has been worth it every time."
"I wouldn't say that just yet. I think I killed the mood," Don sighed. "I'll drop you off home."
She caught his arm. "Wait."
He looked at her, confused. He felt like a wreck. Probably looked like one too. And she didn't want to abandon ship for a good night's sleep?
"Is there a pub nearby? I would like to toast Wilhelmina. She loved how big Amsterdam was. I think she would enjoy a toast from New York. You could toast Jessica," she nudged him. "My mother used to say I shouldn't swear during the hockey games because angels hear everything."