“How did that make you feel?”
I furrow my brow in confusion. Isn’t it obvious? Haven’t I already said it? It makes me feel like shit. The darkness, the pit, the voice. That’s how I feel! I feel… “Sad,” I croak as I swallow back a sob. “I’m really sad.”
I drop my chin to my chest, pressing new tissues into my eyes. A small mountain of used ones is growing by my side. “I miss all my friends so much. I mean, they’re not like, gone or anything. But it’s not the same. We’re not the same as we used to be. And they’ve all moved on. But I’m still here.”
The guilt is overwhelming. I’m such a bad person. What kind of asshole gets sad when he sees his friends finding love? What kind of douchebag blames his problems on his friends being happy? That’s so fucked up. I’m so fucked up.
“Grieving is normal when you go through a loss.”
Dr. Tina’s comment doesn’t make sense. I haven’t really lost anything. I mean, I’m still friends with Rhys and the guys. We still see each other, talk to each other, hang out together. We just spent an entire weekend in Atlantic City. What does grieving have to do with anything?
When she sees my confusion, she continues. “Any kind of change includes a component of loss. Your best friend is now in a romantic relationship with someone else. So you’ve lost some of the time you would’ve spent with him. You’ve lost some of his attention. It’s okay to grieve that loss.”
Is that what’s been happening? I’ve been grieving? It can’t be that simple, can it? This doesn’t feel like grief.
“I’m not saying what you’re experiencing is only grief. But it might be a contributing factor.”
“So…” I blink as my tears finally dry. “If it’s not just grief, then what else is it?”
CHAPTER
THIRTY-TWO
SANTINO
Sebastian keeps me company the whole time Hayden’s in his appointment. This guy is like, a genius. His brain operates at five times the speed of a normal human. He texts me ideas for the second scene I’m supposed to do with Hayden. Then ideas for maybe a third. Then how we can promote the entire series. And on and on and on.
By the time Dr. Tina’s door opens, my head is spinning with everything Sebastian wants me to do. Don’t get me wrong. It’s a lot. But that’s a good thing. It means I have a place here. It means I belong.
Hayden practically stumbles out of Dr. Tina’s office. His cheeks are splotchy. The tip of his nose is red. His eyes are all puffy and swollen. He’s been crying, obviously. And it looks like it was a hard cry.
I shoot to my feet, rushing to steady him before he tumbles to the floor. Glancing past him, I don’t see Dr. Tina following him out. Is that a good sign? A bad one?
“What happened? Are you okay?” I ask, brushing my fingers over his face and through his hair.
Hayden takes a deep breath and sighs. “I… think so?”
He looks dazed and lost. Like he’s just gotten off a rollercoaster and can’t tell which way is up. I want to grill him and ask him all the questions. What did you talk about? What did she say? What’s going to happen now? But Hayden can barely keep his eyes open. I need to get him home.
We hail a rideshare downstairs and Hayden immediately slouches down to rest his head on my shoulder. I think he’s asleep before the car even pulls away from the curb. I pull my phone out.
Santino
Hayden’s out. I’m taking him home.
Sebastian
How is he?
Wiped.
I’ll check in a bit later.
Hayden doesn’t stir the entire ride home and I feel terrible waking him up when we arrive. His steps are heavy as we climb the stairs and the second we’re in the apartment, he heads directly to his room.
Hayden flops on the bed, eyes already closed. He makes a soft sound at the back of his throat and reaches out one hand to me. As if he knows I’m here. As if he knows I will always take his hand when he reaches for me.
I toe off my shoes and climb into bed with him. He curls himself around me and in less than three seconds, his breathing evens out, slow and steady.
