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At least, I’d intended not to.
But then he’d finally walked me to my car which was still parked in the fifteen-minute pickup
parking spot.
I turned to see him standing with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Your car is a piece of junk,” he said.
I rolled my eyes.
That’d been a familiar argument between me and Luca.
Apparently, Riel was going to continue it now that Luca was gone.
“I know,” I said. “I need a new one. It’s on my to-do list.”
After I paid off my student loans, anyway.
Or, at least, the student loans that I had.
My dad had covered what he could. And those he couldn’t, Luca had tried to cover.
I hadn’t allowed him to and thank God I hadn’t leaned on him for that. Because there was no way I
could’ve ever guessed where my life would’ve proceeded.
But I was thankful that I’d at least succeeded in winning that one argument.
Riel shifted to the shadows as he was used to doing, and I allowed my eyes to flicker to his face.
“You look a little rough, Riel,” I said to the man that walked me out to my car after our meal.
The rest had stayed, ordering dessert.
“I’m tired,” he admitted, sounding lost.
“Do you sleep okay?” I wondered. “I’d imagine there’s some underlying PTSD. It could be…”
“No PTSD,” he said. “For there to be PTSD, there’d have to be a memory there for me to
remember. Which I don’t. So, with no memories to torture me, I’m just a blank slate. Nothing fucked up about me. I just can’t sleep.”
Luca had that problem, too.
I’d wake up in the middle of the night and find him staring at the ceiling counting the proverbial
sheep.
Nothing had ever helped. Not exhaustion. Not talking. Not reading. Not medications.
Nothing.
“Luca used to be like that, too,” I said. “If you’re anything like him? I’d guess you just have to get used to it.”
He snorted.
“I was prescribed some sleep meds from my psychologist,” he admitted. “The department made
