“I can’t.” The words scrape out. “If I sit still, I’m going to crawl out of my own skin.”
“Then keep moving,” she says simply. “But stay where I can see you. Tell me what’s happened since we last met.”
The last session feels like a different lifetime. She’d told me to notice what my body did around Alycia, theway tension eased without permission. And how the pretend line between us wasn’t as solid as I kept insisting.
“That line is gone. “I torched it.”
Her eyes don’t leave me. “How?”
“I posted the video.” The confession hits the air raw. “The one we talked about. I looked straight into the camera and told the world I love her.”
A small nod. Not surprised. Not judgmental. “You told the truth.”
“It was supposed to help.” My hand cuts through the air. “Cooper said to lay low, stay inside, let PR do damage control. But the headlines about her were getting worse. People calling her unstable. Saying she slept her way into her job.” My jaw tightens until I feel the ache in my molars. “I wasn’t going to sit here and watch them skin her alive. So, I warned Cooper and hit post.”
“What’s happening now?”
“I don’t know. That’s the problem. He said help was coming. Then nothing. The internet is a dumpster fire, and she’s in that building alone with all of it, and I’m stuck here, pacing like a caged animal.”
“And Alycia?”
Her name hits like a stick to the ribs.
“This morning, she said she’d handle it the right way,” I get out. “I don’t know if she’s seen the video. I don’t know if she’s in a conference room or hiding in a bathroom stall trying to breathe. I just know she’s there, and I’m not allowed to go anywhere near her.”
“What’s your body doing right now?”
“My chest feels like someone set a skate blade on it and is leaning down.” I press a hand to my sternum. “My hands won’t stop shaking. My legs want to run. Break something. My jaw’s locked so tight I keep waiting for a tooth to crack.”
She nods slowly. “Anything else?”
“My stomach feels like swallowing guilt-shaped rocks.”
“And where does the guilt sit?”
“Behind my ribs,” I answer without hesitation. “Wedge-tight. Scraping every time I breathe.”
“What story is that guilt telling you?”
“That I did exactly what she was afraid I’d do,” I say, pressure building behind my eyes. “That she trusted me with the most fragile part of her, and I turned it into content. I got to say ‘I love you’ out loud and call it brave, and she’s the one taking hits for it. That if I’d just stayed quiet, she wouldn’t be bleeding for my choices.” My voice frays. “That I’m the problem. Again.”
“Kyle,” she murmurs, “look at me.”
I force my gaze back. The room feels too bright, too loud in the silence between her breaths. I latch on to her eyes like an anchor.
She waits until my breathing loosens half an inch. “You said you ‘blew everything up.’ Tell me what else is true.”
Something breaks open in my chest.
“What’s true is that they were already lighting thematch,” I say. “They were already lining her up to take the fall. I just stepped in front of the fire first.”
“What else?” she prompts.
“She walked into that building this morning with her shoulders squared like she was ready to take everyone’s heat before they even asked. I couldn’t watch that happen again.”
“Stay with that. What did it feel like in your body when you decided to post?”
“Like falling through ice,” I breathe. “Shock everywhere. No air. My brain screaming to do something. Fix it. Pull her out of the line of fire.”
