“Sorry to take up your day with this sort of thing. I know it’s not really therapy-worthy, but…”
Evan met his gaze, and Gage shut his mouth. “You and I both know there’s no such thing as not therapy-worthy. If you’re struggling, that’s what I’m here for.”
“Yeah,” Gage breathed out.
Evan walked back over and sat down in his chair again. “What about the rest? Is any of this deflecting from how it felt to be with someone again after your assault?”
Gage met his gaze. “Not deflecting. I keep waiting for it to feel bad again, you know? Like some kind of latent response. But Fred just…” He fell silent, and Evan waited patiently for him to finish. “He makes me feel safe. Is that normal?”
“Normal is relative,” Evan said, like he did every time Gage asked. “But it’s common. Everyone has a safe space, Gage. Sometimes it’s a room. Sometimes it’s a T-shirt or a pair of sweats. And sometimes it’s a person. It’s okay to lean on that, so long as you’re not using it as a crutch to avoid dealing with the trauma.”
That scared him because what if he didn’t know that was what he was doing? What if he put all this emotional responsibility on Fallon without realizing it?
“Maybe we can address that next time,” he said.
Evan laughed. “Fair enough. Now. Any fun rescue stories to tell me before the session is up?”
Gage grinned. “Last week, there was a guy who got his fist stuck in a Pringles can.”
“I’ve seen that on TikTok before,” Evan said.
Gage’s smile widened. “Oh, I bet you haven’t seen this one. Wait until I tell you what he was holding in his hand.”
Not for the first time, Gage was profoundly aware that at some point, the twenty-four-hour shifts were going to break him. He was not built for it. He felt all upside down and inside out, and his meds didn’t seem to work as well when he wasn’t sleeping regularly in his bed.
And during his three-day-off stretches, he only just started to regulate before he was back again.
But for now, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. At some point, he wanted to go back to school. He wanted to finish his degree and figure out what he was supposed to be doing with his life. He just didn’t know when he was going to feel ready.
He set that thought aside as he walked to his door, and just as he turned his key, Fallon’s door opened and he poked his head out. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, and his eyes were red-rimmed.
Gage’s heart began to pound in his chest. “What happened?”
“Can I come over?”
Gage stepped aside and gestured through the door, and Fallon shuffled over, brushing their shoulders together as he passed. Gage took a deep breath of his scent—the soft, earthy lavender from his soap—and he let that soothe him because in spite of his exhaustion, he would go to war if he had to.
He’d rip someone’s head off if Fallon so much as hinted that’s what he needed.
Which was maybe a bit much.
Gage dropped his things in the foyer, then followed Fallon into the living room. His friend was already getting comfortable in the nest Gage never put away, and he joined him, profoundly aware he still smelled like the burning rubber smoke from the car fire they’d put out a couple of hours before his shift was over.
“Were you hurt today?” Fallon asked.
Gage frowned. “Hurt?”
“There was a fire. I can smell it.”
“Car fire. No passengers. But the smoke was nasty.” He leaned his head back against the couch cushion and willed his eyes to stay open. “That rubber smell takes forever to go away.”
Fallon hummed softly. “You look tired. If you want me to go?—”
Gage reached out and cupped his jaw, stroking his thumb over Fallon’s rough, short, clipped beard. “I want you to tell me why you were crying.”
“It’s…” He let out a puff of air. “I think I want to keep the baby.” His hand drifted down to his stomach. Gage couldn’t see it with the blanket on him, but he noticed the movement. “But that means I have to tell Frankie and Fen. And everyone else. And I’m going to need to take time off from my job, which I can’t afford. And people might ask about—about everything. And Charlie will probably find out.” He went quiet again for a beat. “I have to see a doctor and…and then I have to be a dad.”
Gage gave him a moment, then reached out and took him by the chin, tilting his head up. He didn’t ask for eye contact. Fallon didn’t seem to struggle with that much, but Gage also wasn’t going to demand it. He knew his friend was listening.
