I step out into the hallway, the door clicking shut behind me.
For the first time in a long time, visiting Xavier doesn’t feel like carrying a debt I can never repay. It feels like an opportunity to move forward. A way to let Luke in—and finally stop punishing myself for something that was never mine to control in the firstplace.
It’s a Thursday evening,the kind of quiet that settles after a long day. Luke is sprawled on my couch, one of my old hoodies swallowing him whole. He’s scrolling through his phone, half-watching some cooking video, half-laughing at whatever Ty just sent in the group chat. The lamp beside him throws a soft gold across his face, and for a second, I just stand in the doorway and watch—marveling, again, that he’s here. That we’re here.
I clear my throat lightly.
He glances up, smile instant and easy. “Hey. You okay? You’ve got that thinking face on.”
I cross the room, sit on the coffee table so I’m facing him, knees brushing his. “Yeah. Just…thinking about something I want to do this weekend.”
“Something fun?” He grins over at me.
“Uh,” I clear my throat again. “I want to visit Xavier."
He sets his phone down, giving me his full attention. “Xavier?”
He’s not asking who Xavier is, I know that so I inhale and nod. “It’s been a couple weeks. I usually go every ten days or so. I’m planning to head out Saturday morning. Early. Before the place gets crowded.”
Luke’s expression softens—no surprise, no hesitation, just quiet understanding. “You want company?”
I exhale, relieved he asked so I don’t have to push. “I’d like that. But only if it feels right for you. No pressure. I know it’s… heavy. And I know last time, when I tried to hold it in, it didn’t really help either of us—” I reach for his hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I want you there, if you want to be there.”
He squeezes my hand back, blue eyes steady. “I want to come. I’m glad you asked.”
I let out the breath I was holding in a soft chuckle. “Okay. Saturday, then. Early. I’ll drive.”
He leans forward, presses a quick kiss to my mouth. “Deal.”
Saturday morning is crisp,the kind of late summer day that has the feel of the start of a fall day, even though it will get warm later. The drive to the care facility is quiet—not tense, just comfortable. Luke’s hand rests on my thigh most of the way, thumb moving in slow, absent circles. When we pull into the parking lot, he doesn’t rush to unbuckle, he just turns to me.
“You good?”
I nod. “Yeah. Better than last time.”
“Then let’s go see him.”
Inside, the halls are familiar: pale walls, soft lighting, the faint smell of antiseptic and oatmeal. The nurse at the desk recognizes me, gives a warm nod. “He’s in the sunroom today. Good mood.”
We find him by the window—wheelchair angled toward the garden, sunlight catching in what’s left of his hair. He always looks thinner than I remember, but his eyes are bright today, alert in that fleeting way they sometimes are.
I crouch beside him first, voice gentle. “Hey, Xav. It’s Silas.”
He turns slowly, blinks at me like he’s trying to place the face. No recognition. No spark. Just polite curiosity.
“Hi,” he says, voice raspy but cheerful. “Did you go to the game?”
I swallow the familiar ache, but it doesn’t hit as hard today. “No. I missed it. Tell me about it.”
He lights up—suddenly animated, hands gesturing. “We won! Last play of the game—perfect spiral, right into the end zone. Crowd went nuts. You should’ve seen it.”
Luke kneels on the other side, easy smile in place. “Sounds epic. Who caught it?”
Xavier turns to him, no hesitation. “Kid with the fast feet. Number 12. Hell of a catch.”
Luke nods as though it’s the most important story he’s ever heard. “Hell yeah. Bet the defense was pissed.”
Xavier laughs—short, rusty, but real. “They were crying in the locker room. Crying!”
