“I don’t know,” he said, raising both hands. “I know that makes no sense and isn’t something you want to hear, but I really don’t know. It’s just—it was the voice that called out to me.”
“A voice?” She looked at him, confused.
Simon probably sounded like a crazy man. “Please tell me why. Why do you think you need to jump?” he asked, taking a step closer.
As soon as he took that step, she backed up a step. “Don’t come any closer,” she cried out.
“I’m not planning on it,” he said. “Honest, I just want to keep you safe.”
“And throw me over.”
He stared at her in surprise. “No, not at all.”
“What do you mean?” She started to bawl right in front of him, a breakdown happening, as she sat cross-legged on the bridge.
But the minute he went to take a step closer, she started to get to her feet again. “Stop,” he said, “I’m not coming to hurt you.”
She still sobbed, but it was obvious she didn’t trust him at all.
“But I don’t know what’s going on,” he said. “I just want to help.”
“Don’t you understand? Nobody can help.”
“That’s not true. Somebody can.”
“No,” she whispered, “nobody can.”
“But why?”
“It’s too late. It’s gone too far,” she said. “I can’t live with this.”
“Tell me what it is you can’t live with.”
She whispered, “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t,” he said. “I really don’t.”
And then another voice spoke in her head, or his head—somebody’s head. Or maybe it was in the air around him, flying on a breeze. He had no fucking idea, but it whispered, “Do it.”
“No, don’t do it,” he cried out instantly.
She looked at him. “Did you hear that voice?” she stared.
“Shit,” he said. “I know I’ll sound absolutely crazy, but is a voice telling you todo it?”
“My voice always tells me to do it,” she said bitterly.
He nodded. “And I had that same voice in my head.”
She slowly got to her feet. “Are you suicidal too?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “I’ve been there. I’ve been to that edge.”
“But you’ve never gone over.”
“Well, I’m still here,” he said, with a wry smile.
“You are,” she said, studying him, clearly confused.