Page 214 of Tangled with the Tight End

A tear leaks out.

“I feel like a faucet,” I say. “I’m leaking.”

Cass laughs, but her face fills with sympathetic pain.

And since it’s Cass, I tell her. “I cried like a baby all the way home.”

“Win.” Her voice is as sad as I feel.

She walks over to me and pulls me into a hug.

I collapse into her arms. And then the tears come again.

I sag against my sister and she holds me up while I let it all out.

“I love him, Cass. He’s it for me. I’ll never love anyone like I love him.”

To her credit, Cass just holds me, making shushing noises and running her hand over my hair, which makes me remember how he always held me and how he would caress my hair. A slideshow of moments flashes through my mind, each one triggering more tears.

“I already miss him. How am I going to get over this?”

“Shhhh,” Cass says. “You don’t have to worry about that right now. You just have to get cozy and grieve.”

“Oh … oh … oh … kay,” I sputter out between sobs.

Then a fresh wave of sadness overtakes me, coming from somewhere deep within me.

Cass walks me over to the couch. I settle onto the cushion. She wraps me in a soft blanket. When I tug it around me, I realize it’s the one Declan gave me for Christmas less than a week ago.

He’s everywhere. I let him all the way in. And he let me go.

The strangest thoughts come to me, each one dragging up pain and more tears. I’ll never be at the practice facility again. I didn’t even get to say goodbye to Darlene. I won’t be in the stands for his games. And he’ll know I’m not there.

Cass fixes me soup. It sits on the coffee table. I can’t eat.

She brings me a cup of tea. I take a sip and it joins the soup.

I cry myself out.

“I’m tired,” I finally tell Cass. She’s been keeping a vigil, sitting on the other end of the couch, quietly watching and just being here for me.

“Do you want to get ready for bed?”

“I have to. I have work tomorrow.”

“Can you cancel?”

“I’m too tired to cancel.”

She holds her hand out. “Give me your cell.”

I pull it out of my pocket, peeking once to see if I missed a text or call from Declan. I know I didn’t. He’s not going to call. He has more discipline than anyone I know.

Cass pulls up my schedule in my Notes app and starts calling people one by one. I want to stop her. But the bigger part of me breathes a sigh of relief with each call.

“Winona isn’t feeling so hot. She’s going to take the rest of the week off.”

“Winona might be coming down with something …” On and on she goes until my entire calendar is cleared for the rest of the week.