Page 129 of The Sound of Him

I turn to glare at him. “What? I did my job.”

“You did your job exceptionally well, yes. You completed everything on your list. Some of the things on Maison’s andKeaton’s lists, too. You re-did tasks solely because you knew you could improve on them. You did the same with all of your programming. You triple-checked every detail and looked twice at every moving piece of the puzzle. You went above and beyond what someone in your position is supposed to do for the end of an operation.”

He looks too proud, all bright and beaming. I turn back to the bookcase, not really seeing any of its contents.

“But while doing all of that, you were also building a future for these survivors. You found out that Casey loved to swim and immediately started working on repairs for the pool here that hadn’t been operational in years.”

“It’s not like it wasthatmuch work.”

“You found out about how much Carter loved the stuffed moose Travis got him, so you went out shopping for all of those little stuffed animals.”

“That was Travis’s idea, I just did the legwork.”

“You decorated the house to make it feel more homey instead of the standard sets we bulk-order for the other houses.”

“I mean, I’m living here too, so I didn’t really want it to be boring.”

“Yes, because you spend so much time enjoying the ridiculously comfortable couch or the warm, fuzzy throw blankets or, really,anythingfor that matter, other than the decor in your office.”

“You don’t do sarcasm well,” I lie.

He ignores me.

“You made self-care bags for those who needed extra attention in certain areas.”

“That’s something all of the safehouses should be doing. I told Kellan that.”

“You ordered clothes in varying colors and styles so the survivors had more options than just the usual set of 5 outfits we set them up with.”

“I love shopping. Especially clothes shopping. You know that.”

“You tried cooking for them.”

“And failed fucking miserably.”

“You’ve ensured everyone has sign language books, and you encourage them to practice. Not to mention that app on your phone that you’ve been using to learn ASL even before Matt arrived.”

“Are you going to get to the point any time soon?” I ask, turning to face him again. “Because I promised that I’d come see you. I didn’t promise how long I’d fucking stay.”

He raises his eyebrows at me. That look used to get me to apologize immediately. Then, once I was more comfortable with him, it’d get me to throw something at him. Right now, it gets me to throw back my drink and place it on the desk with every intention of leaving.

“You’re a good man. That’s the point.”

“Great. Thanks.”

“But underneath that good man and underneath those layers of confidence and power that you’ve wrapped around yourself and underneath the loads of work and the worries about others and the exhaustion and the drugs you somehow talked Deacon into prescribing you - beneath all of it, decades of it, you still have that little boy in there. He’s buried deep, I’ll give you that, and yes, you put in a lot of work to help him heal when you were younger, but you didn’t finish. The first chance you got, you started shoving him down and covering him up.”

I turn away from him, my knees threatening to buckle.

This isn’t what I came here for.

This is not at all what I fucking came here for.

“You’re having the nightmares again because he’s scared.”

“Adam…” I plead, the name barely a whisper.

“You’ve hidden him away in some safe place for so long and now you’re doing things that you’re too afraid to face, so you’re shoving those down there too. You’re shoving Elliot and those other kids down where he is, and you’rescaringhim. Because you, Ace? The man in front of me? He has a support system. He has family. Friends. People who love him and who he loves. He has power and safety and confidence. But that little boy?He’sthe one that’s all alone.He’sthe one that isn’t a ‘them’. The longer you leave him down there and turn your back and pretend you aren’t falling apart, the worse it’s going to get.”