There was no point lying to myself. I probably would’ve let him touch me. Let him pull me back into the same tired loop we’d been circling for years.
I’d always justified it. We had history. A child. He knew me better than anyone. He was easy and familiar. All the excuses I hid behind so I didn’t have to call it what it was.
Loneliness.
Dylan had always been convenient.
The truth wasn’t just embarrassing. It was ugly. I hadn’t misread him. I’d seen exactly who he was and chose not to look too closely. He still believed in us. In some version of a future I’d already left behind.
And I let him. Strung him along because it felt safer than standing on my own.
The firm weight of Eric’s hand settled on my shoulder. “Hey, where’d you go?”
“Sorry. Got lost in thought.”
“Thoughts about what?”
There it was. The opening I’d been working up to.
I drew in a breath and let it out all at once. “About that explanation I owe you.”
No one else had ever stepped in for me the way Eric had. He was the only one who’d ever taken control when I needed someone. On fake-boyfriend credentials alone, he’d earned the truth.
It was now or never.
“I can practically hear the gears grinding in your head.” His thumb brushed my collarbone in a slow, absent sweep that made stepping away feel impossible.
My pulse kicked hard as a breathless laugh escaped me.
“I’m not going to pretend I’m not curious. But I won’t corner you into saying something you’re not ready to.”
Of course he wouldn’t.
He was infuriatingly decent, and all I’d given him so far were fragments and half-truths wrapped in avoidance.
I shook my head. “I want to tell you.”
His jaw tightened, but he waited.
“Dylan was my first boyfriend. We started dating when we were fifteen.” My voice sounded steady, but it didn’t feel that way. “We thought we were in love. Mostly we were just young. And stupid.”
Eric’s hand slid from my shoulder down my arm, fingers closing around mine with quiet authority.
“I stayed at his place whenever being at home felt…unbearable.” My eyes closed and lips pressed together, the words hard to get out.
Eric tugged on my hand, guiding me to one of the benches overlooking the trail. The motion was decisive, and I obeyed without thought.
“Talk to me.” Our thighs brushed as he sat next to me. “I’ve seen the photos. I know it wasn’t always like that. Tell me what changed.”
“It’s a lot. Too much. It’s all tangled.”
Silence stretched between us, but he didn’t rush to fill it. He just waited.
And somehow, that gave me the strength to go on. “My mom and sister died in a car accident when I was thirteen. My sister died on impact. My mom didn’t. She was kept alive in a coma for just over three weeks.”
Saying it out loud still felt unreal, like I was reciting facts from someone else’s life.
“For twenty-three days, my dad and I sat beside her. She was broken, bruised, and unconscious. We watched machines breathe for her and told ourselves it would be okay. That she’d wake up. That she’d come back to us.” My throat tightened. “She never did.”
