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“What does he have to feel bad over?”
“The same dumb stuff I feel bad over—that you were abducted on a night we put together, that we were complacent about the threat of Lanyon Clover, that we failed to protect you.”
“I don’t see anything that way. What they did was completely unhinged! How could you have seen it coming?”
“I know that, and we’ve had that conversation a lot of times, but the fact is that Cole saw himself as a mentor to you, and your protector in his role as alpha, and he failed in both of those roles. I just think if we’re all going to get through this, we have to lean on each other. And sometimes, in ways that aren’t the most comfortable.”
“I just feel so stupid,” Rosie confessed. “Some of the stuff I’m scared of now...I mean, someone got cod for lunch at the gym the other day, and I had to go hide in the bathroom to have a full-blown panic attack because I can’t stand the smell of fish anymore.”
I shrugged. “Cole can’t really stand needles anymore,” I shared. “He hasn’t really talked to me about it yet, but he stopped having me come with him to his doctor appointments after I asked him about how pale he got whenever he got his blood drawn. He also gets uncomfortable if there are any needles on a TV show.”
“Really?” Rosie asked, eyes wide.
I gave her an encouraging smile. “We can’t pick the stuff that triggers our trauma. But we can help the people around us understand those triggers so we at least have some safe spaces to exist in, you know?”
She nodded and heaved out a shaky breath, her pretty hazel eyes brimming with tears. “Can I give you a hug?”
“Of course you can!” I cried, releasing her hand and pulling her into a tight embrace before she could change her mind. She wrapped her arms around my waist as I rocked from side to side with her in my arms, the same way Valentina had done for me while Cole was missing. A proper mom hug was hard to replace, but I did my best to emulate it.
“You’re such a good friend,” Rosie said against my shoulder. “I was sure you were going to hate me for ghosting you.”
“Girl, I could never hate you. I'm literally incapable of it.”
She gave a soft huff and sniffled a little. “So, could we hang out or have a sleepover or something soon? We haven’t done anything together in forever, and I can already tell that I want to spend a whole day with you when I get the chance.”
“Uh, absolutely!” I exclaimed. “Want to stay over tonight? Cole is out of town for at least a couple more days, and our ginormous bed feels woefully empty.”
“For real?” she asked as she backed out of the embrace to look at me in my face. “Are you sure you don’t mind? Wait…I don’t have anything with me.”
“You can borrow my clothes,” I said. “I have so much now because Cole comes home with stuff all the time.”
“Well...yeah, alright, that sounds good!” she said, beaming.
“This interaction is looking suspiciously sapphic,” someone commented from behind us.
I turned to see Paulette behind me, standing with Ginger.
Ginger rolled her eyes. “Just because you’re a newly awakened lesbian doesn’t mean everyone is.”
“I am not freshly awakened. And I’m not a lesbian; I’m pansexual,” Paulette retorted.
“Hey, I was hoping I’d get a chance to talk to you guys today,” I said, turning toward them. “How are things?”
“Good!” Paulette replied cheerfully. “Girl, you did amazing up there today. You’ve got that real Madam President thing going on.”
I snorted a laugh. “Come on. I’m a mediocre public speaker at best. I just did my best to emulate Cole when he’s being mister guy-in-charge.”
“No, Paulette’s right,” Ginger insisted. “You really did do a good job up there. A far cry from the Marley I met, crying on her sofa half a year ago. You seem like you’re starting to really come into your own.”
I flushed a little. It was strange to receive a compliment from Ginger. She’d changed in a lot of ways, too, since getting together with Paulette. She’d become a bit softer and warmer, like her brother.
“Well...thank you,” I said. “That means a lot to me. I have been trying really hard to be better about that sort of thing.”
“So, what are we hugging about?” Paulette asked, pulling up a chair.
“Polly, I’m gonna go talk to Farah while you guys catch up,” Ginger said, kissing her girlfriend’s temple. “You know what to do if you need me. You have it on you, right?”
“Yep!” Paulette said in cheerful singsong before pulling out a silver whistle on a chain from under her shirt.
