“I’m going to need you to go back to therapy. I need you to go back becauseI need you,T. Derrick might be gone, but he left behind his mark. I need you to work on your mental health formeto feel safe that I’ll never lose you.”
Air leaves my lungs in a sharp exhale. The word therapy hits like a slap…not because of Elijah, but because Derrick twisted it into a weakness. His voice still lingers where the fear lives. Which…I guess is the whole point Elijah’s trying to make.
I feel a tightness in my chest as I grip my cup. “You think it’ll fix me?”
Elijah immediately cups the back of my neck, forcing me to look in his eyes.
“Therapy isn’t aboutfixingyou. God, there’snothingto fix.” He breathes, his hand steady on the back of my neck. “It’s support. It’s someone else holding the weight with you—making sure you’ve always got more than one hand to reach for when the voices get too loud.”
I lean in instinctively, drawn to the calm in his words. Unlike Derrick’s, Elijah’s voice doesn’t carry shame. Only care. Only love.
I bite my trembling lip as I watch the kids skating by, their laughter echoing off the ice. “You know…you remind me so much of your dad sometimes.”
A quiet laugh slips from him before he rests his forehead against my cheek. “Thank you,” he sniffs.
I wish I could wrap my arm around him, but instead, I rest my head against his, staring down at our joined hands. “I’ll go back. I should’ve gone back a long time ago.” I suck in a breath, my brows furrowed. “And… I don’t want to drink anymore. Not for a while.”
He lifts his head slightly, studying me. I focus on a loose thread on his glove.
“I’m not saying I’ve got a problem,” I murmur. “BecauseI don’t. I’m not my father.” My jaw tightens as the thought of that man burns through me. “But maybe that’s why I want to stop. Things got really scary there for a while, and I didn’t know how to quiet the noise. But I do now.”
When I look at him again, there’s a soft smile playing on his lips.
“I’ve got you. I’ve got people who love me. I don’t need that anymore.”
He exhales, voice breaking. “Fuck, I love you.”
A tear drops down my cheek and he’s quick to reach up and wipe it away before bringing me close for a long, deep kiss.
But unlike many tears that have come before, this doesn’t feel like just another sad tear.
It’s one that also carries some hope.
45
Elijah
“How are you feeling?” I ask, combing my fingers through Tobias’s hair. He sits on the edge of the bed with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths. The scar left behind after Derrick hit him in the kitchen is still raw from the stitches, but his hair does a good job covering most of it.
“I’ll be okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist.
I kiss the top of his head. “You know I’ll be there with you the whole time. I’ll be holding your hand every step of the way.”
He nods his head. “You always are.”
There are some things I need to take care of at the restaurant today. As much as I was able to push things off, I need to deal with them and I’m not ready to leave Tobias alone yet. I know returning to work will be a lot. He hasn’t spoken or seen anyone since everything with Derrick happened.
If it were up to me, he wouldn’t even need to go back at all. But, I also know how many people care, love and depend on him. And I know he feels that too.
Life keeps spinning even when things get hard. We have to keep moving. He taught me that last year and he’s been teaching me that ever since.
***
I blast music in the car, which probably isn’t great for someone healing from a concussion, but it’s the only way I can think to keep him from spoiling his surprise. My phone won’t stop buzzing on my lap, but I try to ignore it.
Thankfully, not before long, we’re turning intoJude’s Placeparking lot. The snow crunches under the tires as I turn into the front, strategically avoiding the back parking lot.
I can feel Tobias curiously eyeing me as I put the car in park. “Everything okay?” Tobias asks.
