"Losing a sister is still very difficult. Especially when you have to try to support your sibling while they navigate the loss of a wife... and then your mind can start thinking about the future."
He knows.
God, he fucking knows.
"We witness the devastation of someone we love, and naturally, we empathize with them. Then we start thinking—what if that was me?"
I nod, my throat tight.
"It's all I see... in my nightmares... my wife—" my voice breaks, breath sawing itself in and out of my lungs. "—dead. She's always dead or dying. Bleeding, crying out in agony, begging me to help her... and I can't do anything about it."
"That's terrifying, isn't it?"
I nod, pressing my palms into my eyes, trying to force the tears back. When I open them, Dr. Wilson is holding out a tissue box. I take one, but he gestures for me to take the box, which I do.
"When did the nightmares start?"
"After Silas tried to—" I cut myself off, flinching almost violently in my chair. Dr. Wilson catches it, but gives me space.
Instinct makes me want to force the images down, but then I stop. I can't suppress it anymore; that's why I'm here. Suppressing it made my wife want todivorceme. Suppressing it made my sons resent me.
It's painful, it fuckingburns,but I take a deep breath and meet Dr. Wilson's eyes.
"After Silas tried to shoot himself."
Chapter Twenty
Atlas
One Year Ago
"Hey, Silas, give me a call."
I have to clamp down the frustration in my voice. This is the fourth voicemail I've left for him today. I'm trying to be understanding—the man just lost his wife, and had to put her in the ground only days ago.
I would be...
Fuck, I don't even want to think about that now. It was bad enough to witness my brother at the funeral. I can't think about Wendy being in that box.
"The girls can stay over again, they're more than welcome. We're about to eat dinner, so... just... give me a call, man. I need to know you're okay."
Sighing, I tap the end button and squeeze my phone, resisting the urge to throw it at the wall. Irritation threatens to consume me—the lack of sleep, the addition of two children in our house, trying to support my brother, while my parents support Carrie's parents, who are completely wrecked, obviously.
"Any luck?"
And just like that, the tension in my shoulders bleeds away just from the sound of her voice behind me. I turn, feeling peace wash over me at the sight of her.
My Wendy, still so beautiful, even with the dark circles under her eyes, the lines of exhaustion in her face.
Fuck, I don't think any of us would be able to function without her. She took in Molly and Jem without a secondthought, adding two more children—grieving children—into our circus without batting an eye.
The girls have always been close to us; whenever they visit, they run right into our arms, then dash away to play with their cousins. But they especially love their Aunt Wendy.
Molly's been especially clingy with Wendy, especially since she's the one who found her mother...
"Come here, baby..." I gesture for her to come toward me. Wendy tilts her head in question, but still walks into my arms. "I just want to hold you."
She smiles and melts right into my arms. Burying my face into her hair, I inhale deeply, obsessively. Her warm vanilla scent is the only thing anchoring me.
