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“Does she know that?”
I don't respond because I'm afraid of the answer. Of course she doesn't. I've done nothing to make her believe she has any part of me that no one else has. I've been trying to gain her trust back, but still haven't given her anything to make her feel important.
As if Tessa can read my thoughts, she nudges me. “You need to tell her.”
“It's not my story to tell, Tess.”
She scoffs. “Bullshit it's not. That night fucked you up just as much as it did me, if not more.”
Fear simmers beneath the surface at having to mentally go back there. To relive the night that changed my life. The night that made me wish I were dead. The events of that night have never been said out loud, at least not in detail. I explained a sugarcoated version to Amelia when she found out about my former addiction, but that's the extent of it.
“What if she hates me?” I speak my biggest fear.
“She loves you,” Tessa assures me. “If you can't have faith in anything, have faith in that.”
As she gets up to go back inside, no doubt to tell Kennedy to come out here, I stop her.
“Tess?” She glances back at me. “Thanks for coming.”
Her eyes roll playfully as she smiles. “Shut up, dick. You know I'll always be here for you.”
