Page 199 of Puck Me Back to Life

“But hating you isn't bringing him back.”

He wipes quickly at his eyes, clearly embarrassed by the tears.

“I don't know if we'll ever be friends. Maybe that's asking too much from both of us. But I'd like to stop making each other's lives harder. I think William would've wanted that.”

I glance toward Kai. His face has completely fallen apart. Tears spill freely down his cheeks. For one terrifying second I think he's going to collapse. Instead, he walks forward.

Noah looks confused. “Please don't hit me again.”

Then Kai wraps both arms around him. The hug is sudden enough that Noah freezes. His hands stay awkwardly at his sides. His eyes lift toward me in complete disbelief.

I just nod once.

After another heartbeat, Noah slowly raises his arms. Carefully, tentatively, he hugs Kai back.

Not tightly.

Just enough.

Kai's shoulders begin shaking. “I'm so sorry,” he whispers.

“So am I,” Noah answers.

They stand there holding onto each other while years of grief finally have somewhere to go.

Noah's composure lasts all of five seconds before it cracks completely. He buries his face against Kai's shoulder. A broken sound escapes him.

Kai cries harder.

Neither man is apologizing anymore.

Neither man is defending themselves.

They're simply mourning the same person from opposite sides of the same tragedy.

I stay exactly where I am.

Close enough if Kai needs me.

Far enough to let them have this moment.

For the first time since William Grove died, it feels like both of them have finally stopped fighting ghosts long enough to see each other.

The front door clicks shut behind Noah, and for several seconds neither Kai nor I move. We simply stand in the middle of my living room listening to the silence settle back into place.

A few minutes ago, the room had been filled with years of grief.

Now it's just us.

Kai is still staring at the closed door. His eyes are red, and there's no hiding that he's cried harder in the last ten minutes than I've ever seen before. Somehow, though, he looks lighter. Exhausted, absolutely, but lighter. Like someone finally loosened a knot he'd been carrying around his ribs for years.

I walk over until we're standing shoulder to shoulder. “You okay?”

He lets out a slow breath. “I don't know.”

“I'll accept that answer.”

Another moment passes before he turns to look at me. His eyes are still glossy. “Can we go get waffles?”