“What did angry look like?” I asked.
“Drinking too much. Picking fights with people who were worried about me. Ignoring calls. Pushing Olivia away, then resenting her for giving me space.”
Her name settled between us.
I didn’t flinch, but it took effort.
“She stayed?” I asked.
“She did.”
He sounded grateful.
That made it hurt more.
“We were good once,” he said quietly. “Not perfect. But good. We knew how to talk to each other then.”
“What happened?”
“Life. Travel. My injury. Her work. My pride. Nothing dramatic enough to point at. That’s the worst part. It just thinned out over time.”
I nodded, throat tight.
“Vanessa isn’t evil,” I said.
“I know.”
“She likes the life. The attention. The photos. The version of me who shows up smiling and gives her something people envy.” I kicked a pebble off the path. “But she also remembered my dad’s birthday. She sent Harper a care package during finals. She asks if I’m hurt after games. Not always in the way I need, but she asks.”
“That makes it harder.”
“Yeah.”
We walked in silence for a while.
My thoughts started speeding up again, not as bad as earlier, but enough that the edges blurred. Vanessa tomorrow. Roman. Declan’s wife. The dog leash. Was someone behind us? Did that guy recognize me? Hood up. Keep distance. Don’t touch Declan. Don’t walk too close. Why did Tiny have to look so happy like this was normal?
Declan stopped.
I took two more steps before realizing and turned back.
“Hands out of your pockets,” he said.
I blinked.
Then I noticed my fingers were digging into my palms through the fabric.
I pulled my hands free.
“Look at the light by the bench,” he said.
I did.
“Feet flat.”
I planted them.
“Breathe in for four.”
