Ayla tilts her head, listening.
“She was having a hard time. She told me she felt so pissed off because Dad was gone. She was moody and irritable. Defiant. She admitted she wasn’t easy to deal with and probably made some bad decisions.”
Ayla’s mouth softens and she swallows. “And how do you feel now?”
“Better. Weirdly.”
She nods.
“And… I realized that you’re right.” I lift my gaze to meet her eyes. Mine are blurry with dampness and I drag my fingers beneath one eye. My throat thickens and I swallow. “I’m not over losing Kane. I’m not even over losing my father.”
Her eyes go glossy. Great. We’re both about to cry here in the diner.
Fuck it. So what? I can cry… especially with Ayla. I might not be ready to cry in front of just anyone, but her… I trust her. I trust her to not judge me. To support me.
“It’s okay, Carson. You don’t have to get over it. You just have to come to your own peace. In your own way.”
“Just telling you about it makes me feel better.”
She nods slowly.
“Admitting it to myself helps,” I add. “Maybe I should see… someone. To talk more about it.”
Her lips tremble. “That’s really brave of you.”
“I don’t feel brave.”
“Does anyone ever feel brave? We feel afraid. Confused. Embarrassed, But when we do the thing anyway… that’s bravery.”
“Christ.” I rub my eyes. “You’re so fucking smart.”
She lets out a shaky laugh.
“Some things I can’t fix,” I say. “And that’s okay. I think if I accept that, I can be supportive and… safe. Like you said, you didn’t feel comfortable talking to me about problems. I don’t want that.” I lock my gaze on hers. “I don’t want you to be afraid to come to me with anything. I also don’t want that for my teammates. Or my family.”
She bites down onto her quivering bottom lip. “Okay.”
“I can care. And that’s enough.”
“Yes.” She sets down her fork and touches a fingertip to the corner of one eye.
“Don’t cry.” I fucking hate it. “No, never mind, go ahead and cry.”
“I’m okay. It’s great to offer help and support. But ultimately, it’s up to the other person to change their life.”
“Yeah.”
“And that goes for me.”
“What?”
“You said you’ve made mistakes. Well, I have, too. I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to understand what was going on with you. I thought you didn’t care. That you didn’t want to remember Kane.”
“I should have told you. We should have talked more.”
“Yeah. That was a pretty hard time, though. We were both grieving the worst thing that could happen to us. Just grieving differently.”
I nod.
