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I freeze.
The salt is rough against my skin; it tangles in my hair and makes me want to run.
I don’t run, but it doesn’t mean I can move.
“Sit, Kai. The ocean can’t hurt you.”
I know his words make sense, but I can’t. I can’t move.
“Kai, you can do this. Sit.”
My legs collapse, and I fall onto the couch outside next to Enzo. Tears stream down my face again.
Dammit!
This isn’t what I want. I want to be strong. I want to face my fears with courage, not weakness.
“I’m such a coward.”
Enzo growls, forcing my head to look at him.
“You are the strongest fucking person I know. I still don’t know the whole story, but I know enough. Don’t let anyone, yourself included, ever tell you you are anything but strong.”
“All I ever did was survive.”
“That’s more than anyone else in your position would have been able to do.”
I shiver as the cold spritz from the water hits me again. It’s windier than I would have expected from inside; the weather looked so clam. Or maybe it’s because I haven’t felt fresh air in so long that everything feels more intense.
“Do you want a blanket?” Enzo asks, with hope in his voice.
I don’t.
“It will protect you from the wind and salt in the air.”
“Okay.”
He dashes inside and returns with a lightweight blanket before I change my mind. He hands it to me, and I take it. I wrap it around me instinctively and close my eyes as I feel trapped beneath its material.
“Here, I made you a sandwich.”
I open my eyes and see what appears to be a grilled cheese sandwich on a paper plate that he removes from the tray on the coffee table in front of us.
I smile. “A grilled cheese sandwich? Are you a chef or something?” I tease.
He smiles back. “Nope, I just decided to fix the worst thing for us. It’s all grease, processed bread, and gooey cheese. It is the worst thing for our stomachs, but hopefully, it will put some more weight on your bones.”
I frown. “It bothers you how skinny I am, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” he hisses.
I take a bite of the grilled cheese; the cheese immediately melts in my mouth before sliding down my throat.
“How does it taste?”
“Better than most of the stuff Westcott has been trying to get me to eat. Except the bacon. I like bacon.”
Enzo smiles. “Everyone likes bacon. I’ll tell Westcott to add grilled cheese to his menu for you.”
