AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“With a vengeance.” She smiled sadly. “Sorry, humor is my way of coping.”
What was my way of coping? Wine and ice cream didn’t seem like a very good coping mechanism.
“My point is, even Maeve says it never goes away,” Raven continued. She stabbed her spoon into the container and left it. “We just have to learn how to live with it. Be sad when you feel sad, talk about it when you need to, and realize it’s okay to move forward with your life.”
Be sad. I never stopped being sad. I was stuck in it.
“Do you want to talk about it, Ginny?” she asked, her voice gentle.
I poked at my ice cream as I pressed my lips together tightly. Talk about it. I never talked about it. Talking only led to more pain. But I was always in pain—suffering silently while pretending nothing was wrong. And it wasn’t working. None of it was working. I was just so tired of it.
“We were going to have a baby,” I whispered. I went from poking the ice cream to straight-up stabbing it as my eyes blurred. “You asked what happened…”
“Miscarriage?” she replied. I shook my head. I couldn’t say the words. Her arms wrapped around my shoulders and a spoon almost hit me in the face as she hugged me tight. “Oh, Ginny. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t know what to do with myself,” I admitted pathetically as I burst into tears. Despite the sobbing, I was still stabbing the stupid ice cream. I wasn’t just sad, I was angry. I was… I didn’t know what I was. I was just sad and angry and that was all I could figure out.
“Just be sad,” Raven whispered, her tone gentle. “It’s okay to be sad, Ginny. Just be sad, and when you’re ready—if you ever want to—we can talk about it. Or you can talk, and I’ll listen.”
Grief was a complicated thing. In three years, I’d felt it less intensely than I was in a matter of hours. But for the first time, instead of fighting it, I gave in to it. I gave in, breaking apart all over again while Raven sat in the quiet with me.
Chapter 73
Killian
My hands shook something fierce as I set the lit cigarette between my lips. I needed a fucking break. Thankfully, Mom didn’t push too hard as I sat in the backyard alone to smoke. It was better than fucking drinking—though I wanted to do that too.
I tipped my head back against the plastic lawn chair and sighed. Fuck. I was a fucking mess. I wanted to say it felt better now that they knew, but it didn’t. Not really. Alone, hopeless, and angry. None of that fucking changed.
I didn’t move as Declan joined me, stretching out in the chair next to me. He crossed his arms and stared out into the darkness.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to apologize for feeling like crap,” he said.
“No, I’m sorry I answered the phone.”
“I’m not,” Declan replied. I rolled my head to stare at him. “I mean that. I’m not.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because for all the fucked up shit that goes on between us, Killian, you’re still my brother, and I love you,” he stated like it was as simple as that.
“Why?” Maybe it was a dumb question, but I couldn’t help it. The words were out of my mouth before I could do a damn thing to stop them.
“Because you were born, fucker,” he said, and I snorted. “I don’t know what you want me to say. You’re my brother, I love you, and you just have to deal with that.”
“I’m still fucking sorry. It wasn’t…” Fair? That wasn’t the right fucking word. I didn’t know what to say.
“Killian, if you ever need to talk or need someone to just sit with you, you know you can call me, right?” Declan asked. I just grunted in response. “I think we forget that humans like wolves are social creatures. We were born to be together. We were born to survive together. Somewhere along the way, as a society, we forgot that our mental health is just as important as food and shelter and all that shit. We can’t survive if we don’t take care of our mental health. It’s okay to need other people. It’s okay to need help. That’s part of surviving. We’re meant to do that together.”
“Yeah, but do you do that for yourself? Because the Declan I grew up with never relied on anyone.”
“I’m sure as hell trying,” he told me honestly. “It’s hard as fuck. Raven reminds me it doesn’t make me less to slow down and take care of my anxiety. It doesn’t somehow make me less than I am to say I’m struggling. She says it takes courage to tell her or Cade those things. I guess what I’m saying is that it doesn’t make you less… anything because you’re struggling, Killian.”
“It fucking feels like it,” I admitted.
“I know. But we won’t think less of you. It doesn’t make us want you around less. If anything, we’ll be there to hold you up until you can stand on your own again. We’re in this together.”
