“Is that a crime?” I spit, unable to control my annoyance. “Theyaremy parents.”
Her lips purse, a pitiful look flicking across her face. She leans forward, sympathetically. “Were, hon,” she murmurs in a low voice.
That cuts deep, but I don’t let it show. I hate it when shesays that. Like I’m some idiot who doesn’t understand the concept of death.
To be abundantly clear, I do!
It happened. It hurt. Still does. Always will. But I’ll live.
So, what if I sometimes use the present tense when I talk about them? Has no one heard of a grieving period?
“The nightmares won’t end until you let go, Eva.” Her expression tightens. “You have to come to terms with your parents being gone. And I can help you with that. We can schedule sessions?—”
“I have a busy schedule,” I cut in.
“I can be flexible. Evenings, nights?” she offers.
I clear my throat, fighting back the tears stinging in my eyes. “I don’t think therapy is enough. I need a stronger dose. It feels like I’m going back to the… beginning.”
That wipes all the softness from her face. She looks at her notebook for a long minute before her eyes meet mine again. “Okay, I’ll have to get Daniel’s authorization, but?—”
“Wait, no,” I squeal. “Do not tell my brother.”
“I have to, Eva,” she starts. “He’s still your legal guardian.”
“That was when I was in ICU.” I breathe out, exasperated. “You know what, just forget I called.”
I hang up before my voice can break.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the desk as my chest throbs under a molten, suffocating weight. And this time, I don’t fight the tears that pour freely.
No audience. No pretense. Just me and my shattered wings.
“Easy on the caffeine.” Gretchen—sweet, bubbly, Gretchen—the only local who is nice to me at the Kingsden café watches me curiously as I lift the mug upside down on my face to drink the last drops of my latte.
“How else am I going to make it through today?” I groan and slam my cup on the counter. “Another one to go, please.”
Gretchen feigns a mock jaw drop but grabs the can of beans.
A message pops up on my phone screen next to the empty cup.
Caden
Miss me?
Nope. Your great advice almost got me killed the other day. So, you can bugger off.
Caden
You’d be lost without me.
At least I’ll be alive.
Caden
Is life without me worth it?
“Who is Caden?” a voice I shouldn’t know whispers near my ear. I freeze when a hot breath scrapes along my neck.
