Page 57 of Penalty to the Heart

“I doubt it.” He hangs his head down low.

“Okay, how about we do this another way? I’ll say something that passed through my mind when I was at my lowest of lows, and you squeeze my hand when one sounds familiar to you. How does that sound?”

He takes a minute to think about it before nodding his consent.

“Good. Let’s start with an easy one.” I clear my throat. “I feel like no one really understands what I’m going through.”

Squeeze.

“I no longer enjoy spending time with my friends, family, or coworkers.”

Squeeze.

“Good. You’re doing great, Caleb. Now that we’ve warmed up, we’re going to step it up a notch. If at any point you feel uncomfortable or if it gets too much for you, just let go of my hands. Deal?”

With his eyes still fixed on the cream carpet between us, he offers me another silent nod in reply.

“I no longer like mirrors. They show too much.”

Squeeze.

“The nightmares keep me up at night.”

Caleb snaps his head up with a stunned expression on his face.

“How are you doing this?” he whispers.

“Like I told you before, I understand. I know how it feels to go through something so traumatic.” I smile sadly. “Do you want me to stop?”

He shakes his head, but this time, he doesn’t hide his face from me and keeps his gaze locked on mine the whole time.

“Okay, here we go.” I take in a deep breath.

“I’ve spent hours on the internet to find out everything I could about the man who hurt my brother. About the man who walked out unscathed after the crash.”

Squeeze.

I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he waits for the next words out of my mouth.

“I drove up by his house and watched it for hours. I never got out of the car, too afraid of what I would do.”

Squeeze.

“I want someone to blame. I need someone to blame. Even if that means I spend most of my day just blaming myself.”

Squeeze.

“Are you okay?” I ask, wanting to touch base with him before I continue on.

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully.

“There’s one more statement I’d like to say, but if you want me to stop, I will. Do you want me to stop?”

“Yes. No. I…” he stammers. “No. Say it. Just… say it.”

“Okay,” I say softly, giving him time to take a deep breath and prepare himself. “Are you ready?”

He nods.

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