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“Don’t apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for.”
“I have a lot to be sorry for,” she mutters under her breath, wiping at her cheeks.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Nothing.” She shakes her head before meeting my gaze. “I’m just sorry to dump all my stuff on you. You and your family have suffered such an unimaginable loss and here I am acting like I’m the only one affected by this.”
“You’re not dumping anything on me. Selfishly I want you to need me because in some weird way I think I need you.”
“Why would you need me?” She seems genuinely confused by my statement.
“You were the closest person to my brother. You knew him better than anyone else. I guess being close to you makes me feel closer to him.”
“You remind me a lot of him,” she says, once again pulling the sleeves of her sweater over her hands. “Being near you makes me feel closer to him too.”
“What do you say we skip the pancakes? I think we’re in need of something a little stronger than syrup,” I suggest.
“I think that sounds like a good idea.” She gives me a soft smile and I swear in that instant my heart kicks back to life, finally beating inside my chest for the first time in days.
