I blinked at the phone in my hand like I hadn’t heard him right. Jer didn’t say shit like that.
He’d always been gruff, difficult, emotionally constipated to the point of pain. Back when we were all in it together, he was the guy who’d crack a joke or disappear the second Luna got sad. I used to get so fucking mad at him because she deserved someone who could hold her through the heavy shit. Yet, she needed him, too. She needed someone to push back, to challenge her. She needed both of us for different reasons—him to spark the fire, me to quiet the storm.
Luna was pacing in front of her apartment, trying to unlock the front door with shaking hands.
“This damn thing never works?—”
“I told you, you have to jiggle it left and then twist hard,” Jeremy snapped.
“I am jiggling it left, Jer! Maybe the lock is just broken.”
It was a ticking bomb of a moment, and they were both about to blow. I could tell by the way Jer’s jaw clenched and Luna’s shoulders hunched.
“Hey,” I called out as I jogged up the stairs. “Everybody breathe.”
Jeremy turned with visible relief. “Thank fuck.” He pointed at her like she was an unstable grenade. “She’s locked in DEFCON 1. I tried helping?—”
“You yelled at me for jiggling wrong!”
“Because you were jiggling wrong!”
I walked right up and took the keys from her gently. “Can I try?”
She exhaled shakily and stepped back.
Two seconds later, I jiggled left, twisted, and the lock gave way with a satisfying click.
She dropped her head to my chest with a groan. “You’re annoying.”
“You’re welcome,” I murmured, wrapping my arms around her. “Come on. Let’s get you inside.”
Inside, she collapsed onto the couch, curling up in a tight ball without another word. I found a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders.
Jeremy leaned against the wall in the kitchen, arms still crossed, chewing his cheek like it was the only thing keeping his mouth shut.
“She wouldn’t talk to me,” he muttered.
“She doesn’t always need words,” I said. “She needs someone to catch her when she falls.”
“I don’t know how to do that.”
“I do.”
“I know how to light the fucking fire under her when she needs it,” he added, bitterly. “I’d burn the goddamn world downfor her, Dirks, but I can’t fucking hold her when it all goes to shit.”
“And I can’t always bring her back to life when she disappears into herself.”
We weren’t opposites. We were opposite halves of her.
“She needs both,” he said finally.
“She always did.”
We were silent for a minute, both watching her close her eyes.
“She needs us. You push her. I protect her. You challenge her. I soften her. You burn everything down, and I clean up the ashes.”
Jeremy let out a quiet scoff. “We’re like two divorced dads trying to co-parent a chaotic goddess.”
