Page 156 of Healing Eleanor

“Well,” she continues, “she’s here, Nik. And if what we said back then is true, then you are pushing God’s gift away. Maybe she’s the one you can lean on. The one to help you through your pain too. But you’ll never know if you don’t take a step of faith and find out.”

I sit on the couch with Louie later that evening and sulk. Evelyn’s words won’t leave me alone. They keep replaying like a melody I can’t shut off. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I do need to let Mama go, to stop clinging so tightly to the grief and lean into what’s still here, what’s still tangible. Maybe she’s right when she said I’m afraid of losing someone else I love.

Eleanor.

Keeping her away feels safe, like the only way to protect my heart. But the longer the silence stretches between us, the more I regret that choice.

I keep replaying that night. The way she kissed me, the way I froze instead of kissing her back. How could I, when grief had swallowed me whole and Kasper’s threat lingered in the back of my mind? If I could go back, I would. I’d give anything to go back.

So I pray. That’s all I can do. I ask God to lead the way. Whether that means Eleanor and I will walk together or apart.

Just as I say amen, a sharp knock rattles my door. Muffled voices rise outside. I glance at my watch—7:38 p.m. Who on earth would be here now?

Louie jumps up, barking and scratching at the door. I hush him and pull it open, only to find Lily, Gabriel, and Dillon on my doorstep, mid-argument.

“Lily—that’s not what we planned,” Gabriel is saying, his jaw tight.

“I don’t care, he’s going to hear it—” Lily cuts herself off when Dillon elbows her.

“Hey, Nik,” Dillon says quickly, drawing both their eyes to me.

“Hi?” I ask, confused. “What’s going on?”

“Can we come in?” Dillon asks, shifting nervously.

I look between the three of them, suspicion rising. “Yeah… sure.” I step aside.

Lily sweeps in first, scooping up Louie and showering him with rubs, kisses, and baby talk as though she owns the place. Gabriel and Dillon follow, claiming the couch like they live here.

I stay near the door, arms folded. “So… were you guys just in town or something?”

Gabriel shakes his head. “Not exactly.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Then what?”

Dillon pats the empty cushion. “Come sit, Nik.”

I consider protesting, but their stares hold me in place, everything between us growing cumbersome. “Alright,” I mutter, sinking into the couch next to them. “Now will someone tell me what this is about?”

Lily sets Louie down, crosses her arms, and fixes me with a look that reminds me far too much of Evelyn’s. “We’re staging your intervention.”

“My… intervention?” I repeat, completely baffled. “What on earth do I need an intervention for?”

“Lily, why don’t you come sit,” Gabriel says firmly, his gaze locking on her like a parent corralling a wayward child.

“I’m good right here.” She crosses her arms, chin lifted in defiance.

Gabriel drags a hand down his face, muttering something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like a curse.

Dillon clears his throat. “We’re here because we’re worried about you, Nik.”

My eyes dart between them, confused. “Okay…”

“You haven’t been yourself,” Gabriel states, his tone steady but sharp. “We know you’ve had a rough couple of months, but we’re here to pull you out of the rut you’ve dug yourself into.”

“Or use force if we have to,” Lily adds, deadly serious.

“Lily,” Gabriel hisses, glaring at her.