"I'm not choosing. I'm accepting." He stopped pacing, facing me. "You and Rosie together is weird for me. It's going to take time to get used to. But I can see that you're good for each other. And that has to be enough."
I stood, not quite believing what I was hearing. "Are you saying...?"
"I'm saying I forgive you. Both of you." Aaron's expression was serious. "But I need you to do something for me."
"Anything."
"Get help. Real help. Not just physical therapy and Pilates. You need to work through the PTSD with your therapist. You need to stop pretending you're fine when you're falling apart." His voice cracked slightly. "I can't watch my best friend destroy himself, Derek. I won't."
The words hit me like a physical blow. Because he was right. I'd been so focused on getting physically ready that I'd ignored everything else falling apart.
"Okay," I said quietly. "Okay, I'll do it. I'll actually work on it this time."
Aaron pulled me into a hard, brief hug. "Good.Because the team needs you. I need you. And Rosie sure as hell needs you."
When he pulled back, his eyes were suspiciously bright.
"Now go shower. You smell terrible." He headed for the door, then paused. "And Derek? When you're ready, there's someone downstairs who's been waiting four days to see you."
Thorn.
I showered, dressed in clean clothes, and made my way downstairs with my heart in my throat.
She was sitting on the couch in our living room, looking small and worried. When she saw me, she stood immediately.
"Derek."
I crossed the room in three strides, pulling her into my arms. She held on tight, and I felt her shoulders shake.
"I'm sorry," I murmured into her hair. "I'm so sorry for shutting you out."
"Don't apologize. Just talk to me. Let me help."
"I don't know how." The admission hurt. "I don't know how to be the guy I was before. The guy who wasn't afraid. The guy who could take any shot."
"Then maybe you need to figure out who you are now." She pulled back to look at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "Derek, you're allowed to be different. You're allowed to be scared. You're allowed to struggle. That doesn't make you less."
"It feels like less."
"I know." Her hand cupped my face. "But it's not. You're still you. You're just... more honest now. More real. And I love this version of you even more than I loved the previous version."
"How can you love this?" I gestured at myself. "I'm a mess."
"Because this version of you lets people in. This version admits when he's struggling. This version doesn't have topretend to be invincible." She smiled softly. "You're human, Derek. Finally."
I kissed her then, pouring everything I felt, including gratitude, love, desperation, and hope.
"I talked to Dr. Morrison," I said when we broke apart. "He wants to see me three times a week. Work intensively on the PTSD and anxiety."
"That's good. Really good."
"And Aaron... he came by. He said he forgives us."
Rosie's eyes widened. "He did?"
"Yeah. We still have work to do, but..." I swallowed hard. "We're going to be okay. All of us."
She burst into tears, happy ones this time, and I held her while she cried.
