Knowing.
I sit there, at the kitchen table, unwilling to hear the words spoken to me.
“She died in a car crash, Hal. I’m very sorry.”
I stare at the ring pattern in the wood. I don’t cry. The information hasn’t processed yet.
“The police report said she was drinking alcohol. Did she ever mention anything about drinking to you?”
I vaguely shake my head. She never drank. She wasn’t that kind of person. Never did drugs or-
“Her sight and judgement were very impaired. She wasn’t in her right mind. We believe she was… Hal, we believe she was coming to see you.”
Coming to see me…
“We think she tried to commit suicide, but changed her mind. Your number was dialed on her cell phone. But it was.. a little too late.”
I look up at the police officer sitting next to me. I feel warmness move down my cheeks. He grips my shoulder, as if that would take away the pain of losing my best friend, who I came to find out I didn’t know all that well.
I guess I didn’t know her at all.