“If I’m being honest, I’m not in much better shape right now.” I barely hear him say it as his hands rub over his face.
“How little have you slept, Bryce?”
Refusing to look at me, his eyes rise to the ceiling. “Maybe a couple hours.”
“In how many days?” This is far worse than I thought.
He lies down and curls into me as soon as his head hits the pillow. I debate over letting him fall asleep or continuing the conversation we need to have, but he begins to snore before I make up my mind. It’s already five in the morning, so this can wait.
“I’m sorry.”
“Babe, are you okay?” I blink slowly, finally understanding what Bryce is saying between the soft whimpers coming from him.
“Please wake up,” Bryce whispers, and I realize he’s still asleep.
I don’t wake him right away, but I listen and wait. There are moments of pause between his words, but every time he speaks, they’re the same, repeating over and over again. When his chest starts rising higher and his whimpering rises in pitch, I know it’s time to try to wake him up. I gently rub his arm with one hand while the other caresses the back of his neck, and then I touch my lips to his forehead until he calms. I’ve heard him stir before throughout the nights we’ve slept together, but I’ve never heard him verbalize anything before.
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding more awake now than before.
“Nothing to be sorry about. I was already awake.”
“You’re a terrible liar.” His voice is muffled against my chest.
I continue comforting him until I feel moisture on my chest. “Do you want to talk about it?” I say as I pull him even closer against me.
I lie there in silence, waiting for him to find the words I feel him struggling through his discomfort to say.
“I have nightmares. I told you, right?”
“Mhmm.”
“They’re not random nightmares.” I feel the muscles in his back stiffening under my arm. “My nightmares are of the accident.”
I want to tell him I had a feeling they were, but I remain silent, hoping my presence will ground him.
“I, umm, see his face. In my dreams. With the blood on it. When the car stopped, I could see his face, and I—” When he tucks his head deeper into my chest, I can feel his heartache spread across my skin against his cheek, and it breaks my heart.
I don’t move a single muscle as he finally says it—the secret he’s hidden for so long.
“It was my fault.”
Chapter Twenty
Bryce
“Yes, Daddy. Of course I can hear you.” Daddy is silly. I’m right here. Doesn’t he see me?
I did so good at basketball tonight. I scored a basket, and Daddy was so excited—he was the loudest in the entire room. I got fist bumps from everyone on the team—even our coach.
My dad is talking so loud now too. I asked him to stop, but he’s still talking to himself.
“Daddy, it’s a booster. Mommy called it a booster yesterday. Because I’m big now. See?” My muscles are so big now. That’s how I scored the basket. Daddy is so impressed when he squeezes them.
“Can I have my ball, Daddy?”
That’s my new ball. “Thanks.” This thing is so cool. It’s bigger than my last ball. That one was smaller, for little kids. This one bounces better too.
“What do you mean? Where’s Mommy?” What is Daddy talking about? He’s acting weird. Maybe he’s not feeling well.
