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“Never mind, she would.”
“My point is if you leave on a good note, more power to you. But if you run away or… you know,” he faltered. “I just want you to be okay, Killian. If this helps you be okay, it’s important. That’s all.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. You’d do the same for me in a heartbeat. It’s what we do.” He left me in the kitchen to start doling out orders. It may have been what we did, but that didn’t make me any less grateful.
My skin prickled with an endless cascade of uncomfortable sensations while a fiery heat spread through my chest. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I sat on the back porch, fingers twisted in my hair and my leg bouncing erratically as I tried to deal with the onslaught of emotions rolling violently through me.
Anger? Yeah, there was a fuck ton of that in there.
Sadness? Was this sadness? Grief? Guilt?
I couldn’t fucking tell.
Withdrawal was the other thing mixed in all that. It made me fucking weak—nauseous and crawling out of my skin. David wanted to wean me off all my medication before starting me on new ones, but it’d been a week anyway since I’d taken them. Not my brightest fucking idea ever. I knew that shit. I was stuck getting through every bit of the crappy fucking aftermath. I did this to myself, so I couldn’t fucking complain. But the tapering process of switching medications felt like it was going to fucking kill me. He wanted daily check-ins and mood tracking, threatening to commit me himself if I cut him off. He wasn’t fucking around with my mental health.
I’d thank him later when I wasn’t fucking drowning in symptoms.
Inside, I could hear my brothers fucking laughing at something, and I hated them for it. Irrational and stupid but I didn’t care. There wasn’t a goddamn thing to laugh about. This whole thing was fucking awful. My fucking heart was falling out of my goddamn ribcage in pieces while they laughed at a stupid fucking joke. I just wanted to go inside to yell and scream until they fucking understood what was happening.
A hand touched my back. I lurched forward, damn near toppling off the steps in a panic.
“It’s okay, baby boy,” Mom said gently. She took hold of my shoulder and guided me back to the steps. “Declan was worried about you, so he called me to come sit with you.”
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“You don’t have to apologize. There’s a lot going on today. I know it’s not easy.” She found the spot between my shoulder blades guaranteed to offer comfort when she rubbed small circles. I let out a sound of frustration.
“I hate this.”
“I know, baby boy.”
“It’s not fair,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “We shouldn’t have to be doing this.”
“I wish I could understand what you’re going through, Killian,” Mom replied, her voice quiet. “Do you remember what I used to tell you when you were younger?”
“When?” I asked. “And what time? I earned a lot of fucking talking to’s growing up.”
“I’ll let the swearing slide for now,” she told me. “I used to tell you that the best thing you could do for yourself was to dedicate yourself to trying. Through all the hurt, you had to keep trying. If you did that, eventually you’d get there.”
“I remember. You said that about pretty much every hobby I ever tried picking up. What does that have to do with this?”
“This hurt is never going away, baby boy.” No fucking shit. “Losing a child stays with you forever. I can’t begin to imagine how helpless it feels—how much it has to hurt. A parent should never outlive their child. I wish I could take it away for you, but I can’t. What I can tell you is that you’re going to get through this. It won’t go away, but it’ll become easier to bear. When that happens, I don’t know, but it will. And until then… well, until then, it’s okay to let it hurt. It’s okay to be angry. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to ask for help. And some days it’s okay to just not do a damn thing while you let yourself feel it all.”
“I can’t do that,” I said. “There’s so much shit going on right now.”
“You don’t have to solve all the world’s problems in a single day, baby boy. You’re allowed to live in your feelings until they become easier to bear.”
“I’m afraid to stop,” I admitted. And I was. Stopping always led to a spiral. I couldn’t spiral. Not now. Not after all the promises and conversations with Genevieve. I couldn’t do that to her. But stopping the spiral? I’d never been able to do that shit. “She’s counting on me. Everyone is counting on me. What if… what if I can’t fucking handle it? What if… what if I can’t crawl out of the fucking hole again?”
“Killian, look at me.” Mom ran her fingers through my hair, making me look at her. A soft smile broke the seriousness of her face. I pressed my lips together to hold back the fucking feelings. “There’s no hole too deep that you can’t crawl out of, baby boy. I know you think you’re alone, I know your thoughts get the better of you, but I promise you’re not. You have a small army of people in your court who want nothing more than to be there for you. All you have to do is let us.”
“You say that like it’s easy.”
“It’s not,” she replied. “The hardest thing you’ll ever do is admit that you need help. But we’ll always be there. Whenever you need us. All you have to do is ask.”
Yeah, I sucked at that shit. But I didn’t fucking want to. I leaned into her, tired and emotional and just not wanting to do a fucking thing. Her arm tightened around me
