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I knewthings would be different. I mean, you don't go through what we went through and come out the same person. But what I didn't expect was for Easton to be so shut down. He insists he's fine every time someone asks. He even forces himself to laugh around his friends and smile at all the right moments. But I know him. Something is eating him alive, and he won't tell me what it is.
Three weeks pass but the fear never seems to fade. It's like, I know he's dead and he can't hurt me anymore, but I'm still waiting for something to jump out at me. To hit me over the back of the head and hold me captive again, convincing me that I'm going to die. And if I'm feeling all of this, how could Easton be fine?
He’s not. He's lying.
I walk into Safe and Sound, finding who I'm looking for sitting at a table next to Colby Hendrix and across from a little girl. Tessa spots me out of the corner of her eye and smiles. She waves me over, and Colby and the little girl get up.
“Hey,” she greets me. “Do you have an appointment today? I thought it wasn't until next week.”
After everything, both Tye and Tessa suggested I see a therapist. It's not a bad idea. Honestly, it'll be good to talk to someone about the nightmares I've been having. Tess even set me up with her mentor, Danielle. But right now, I'm more worried about Easton than myself.
I shake my head. “No. I came to talk to you, actually.”
“Oh.” She sounds surprised. “Okay. Give me one minute then.”
Tess picks up the little girl and gives her a big hug before giving one to Colby, too.
“Thanks for bringing me lunch,” she tells him. “And be nice to your dad, Brenna!”
She scrunches her nose. “I'm always nice, Aunt Tess.”
Tessa chuckles. “Sure you are.”
“Thank you!” Colby shouts. “At least you see it. Asher acts like she's a goddamn angel, I swear.”
Brenna smacks her dad in the leg. “Potty mouth, Daddy!”
“Yeah. Potty mouth, Daddy,” Tess repeats teasingly.
Colby rolls his eyes and picks up his daughter, tickling her as he carries her out.
Once they're gone, Tessa nods for me to follow her, and we go into an empty office that honestly looks more like a sitting room than anything. There's none of the typical therapist things you see. No clipboards where they write down everything that leaves your mouth. It's all just calming pictures and comfortable couches.
She shuts the door behind us and sits down. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” I answer immediately, and then correct myself. “Well, no. It's Easton. I'm worried about him.”
Her lips purse as she nods. “He's shutting people out, right? Zayn already reached out to me about it.”
“Oh, good. So I'm not the only one who sees it.”
“Not at all,” she chuckles. “Easton thinks he does well at hiding his feelings, but he's actually pretty bad at it. Zayn is just focused on making sure he doesn't relapse.”
I exhale slowly. “I'm not as worried about a relapse as I am him losing himself. I was hoping you could talk to him? Maybe see how he's really feeling?”
She smiles sadly at me. “I wish I could.”
My brows furrow as I realize she's telling me no. “What? Why can't you?”
“Because I'm not the closest person to him anymore,” she says, as if the whole concept is simple. “He was holding back from letting you in, but the second he did, when he told you about the night I overdosed, you took that spot.”
“B-but I can't get through to him like you can.”
“You can,” she assures me. “He loves you, Kennedy. Like wholeheartedly, more than he ever loved me, loves you. Give him some time to cope in his own way, but then take control. He'll follow you.”
The thought of being the only one who can keep him from going over the edge damn near sucks the air straight from my lungs. “What if I fail?”
She lets out a breathy laugh. “You won't. I'm here and I'm watching from the sidelines. But he's your future now, not mine. You two will get through this...together.”
