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“I’m sure he’s fucking wrecked inside Liv. It’s a small miracle that he wasn’t home when it happened. I wouldn’t wish that experience of watching what happened to you on my worst fucking enemy.”
His face turns grim as he sinks into his memory of that night. He looks at me again, like he’s contemplating his next words. “Have you told anyone? About what Scotty did?” His voice is gentle, and I swallow and stare at the floor.
“I told Luke, sort of.”
He nods as he watches me.
“How do you deal with the memories?” I ask.
He sighs and tries to scoot up in the bed. I help him and he motions towards the chair nearby, so I take a seat.
“I’ve been to more shrinks than I care to count. But one thing I’ve learned is that you can’t hide from them. You take it one day at a time, and eventually you learn to cope. You should talk to someone, though. It helps. Has anyone talked to you about therapy?”
I shake my head no.
“Talk to Luke, I bet he has one on retainer.”
“I would if he ever spent more than two minutes with me.”
Dylan sighs. “He’s a problem solver. He’s focused on the problem right now. You’ll just have to remind him you need attention too.”
