“You think if we lose Paxon, that someday he’ll find his way back?”
Our eyes met as I finally voiced the root of my fears.
Seth’s eyebrows lifted as his steady gaze caught mine and held it for a long unreadable moment.“If we do lose him,” he said carefully, “I think he’ll want to.I think he’ll realize where home really is.Sometimes it just takes people a while to see it.”
There it was again, his unwavering belief that things were going to work out for the good.Either it was the hope or the fear inside of me that cracked.I wasn’t sure.Maybe both.I could see both outcomes.Where Paxon left and never came back and where he left and did return.I swallowed hard.“And if he doesn’t?”
For a moment, Seth didn’t answer.He reached over, brushing my hand with his before he finally laced our fingers together.His grip wasn’t steady.It wasn’t confident.It was tight, like he needed the contact as much as I did.When I looked at him, really looked, the strong front he’d been putting on slipped just a little.
There was fear in his eyes.Real fear.Not just for himself, but for all of us.My heart skipped a beat or two as I realized Seth wasn’t as unwavering as I thought.He was worried and uncertain too and it was starting to show through the cracks that were stretching.
“Then we keep moving forward,” he said in a rough voice.“We live our lives, continue to do the things we love.We adapt.”His thumb brushed my skin in a slow, grounding motion.“It’ll suck.It’ll be hard.But we can do it.”He hesitated, his jaw working like he was fighting something back.“Together,” he finished in a fragile tone.
His words hit me hard, like the first chord of a song I wasn’t ready to play yet.For the first time, I saw that he wasn’t fearless.He was terrified.But he was choosing to be strong anyway.For me, for Paxon, for all of us.
My throat tightened.“I don’t know if I can keep doing that,” I whispered.“The surviving part.Every time I start to feel okay again, something happens.Someone pulls away.Or I do.It hurts, losing people, or being the problem.”
“You don’t have to keep doing it alone,” he said.“Not anymore.”
That was the last push against the dam.My breath hitched, and the tears I’d been holding back for weeks finally broke free.I covered my face with my hands, but Seth moved closer, pulling me into him before I could hide.
I didn’t even have the strength to resist.
His chest was solid beneath my cheek, and I clung to his shirt like it was the only thing keeping me anchored.The sobs came hard and fast, raw enough to scrape my throat.It wasn’t pretty.It wasn’t quiet.
Seth didn’t try to fix it.Didn’t tell me it was okay.He just held me, one arm around my shoulders, the other smoothing over my hair.
I wasn’t sure how long I cried.Only that it was long enough for my chest to ache and the food to go cold.When I finally pulled back, my face was hot, my eyes swollen.I tried to apologize, but he shook his head before I could get words out.
“Don’t,” he said gently.“You never have to apologize.”
“I’m sorry,” I whispered anyway.“I just...I don’t know how to do this right.Any of it.”
Seth’s thumb brushed the side of my face, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized was still there.“You don’t have to do it right,” he said.“You just have to keep trying.That’s what makes it worth it.”
His words did nothing to ease the ache in my chest.It was too big for words, too tangled in everything we hadn’t said.
Seth smiled faintly, a small curve of his mouth that somehow made it worse.“It’s fine,” he said, the promise slipping from his lips like a vow he’d already made a hundred times.“We’ll make this work.This is worth the fight for.”
His words should have comforted me.It usually did.Instead, they hollowed me out because I wasn’t so sure this fight would be enough.And I realized Seth wasn’t so sure either.
