Page 47 of The Bridges I've Burned

“Do you want anything?” he asked as he headed straight for the kitchen. “I noticed you didn’t eat much.”

“I—” He had been watching me? “I’m good,” I answered. “I’m going to go change. I’ll be right back.”

He nodded, already pulling out what looked like fixings for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

“Do you want me to text Marin, or…” Please say no. I couldn’t pretend right now.

He shook his head, already diving into the peanut butter with a butter knife. My stomach growled.

“No, I can do it.”

I reached into my clutch and placed my phone on the counter. “You can grab Macon’s number. I don’t want them to worry.”

A wry grin ghosted his lips as he drew his thumb into his mouth and licked a bit of peanut butter off of it. I watched far too intently.

“I doubt they are worried in the way you think.” He stared at me for a moment longer.

Oh, right.

“I’ll let you get changed.” He turned away.

I didn’t bother saying anything more. Heading down the hallway, I opened the door to my room and stepped in. It was dark, and for a few breaths, I just stood there as all my awful thoughts came rushing back at once.

She should have told me.

Why do I feel jealous?

Why isn’t he here?

A sob tore from my lips as I tried to muffle the sound with both hands. Tears burned my eyes, and in that moment, I hated myself.

Hated my insecurities.

My selfishness.

“Elena.” A soft voice sounded behind me.

I turned to see Zander framing the door. The light from the hallway surrounded him like a halo, and he stepped into the dark room and wrapped his arms around me.

He didn’t say a word. He didn’t ask any questions as I let the tears fall, all that guilt and shame staining my cheeks as the sound of my sobs filled the room. His hand gently stroked my hair. My head rested against his chest, and I felt the steady, comforting rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You must think I’m an awful person,” I finally said, my voice barely a whisper. “My best friend announces she’s pregnant, and I burst into tears.”

“That is the last thing I’m thinking right now,” he assured me, his voice deep and even. “And for the record, you’re allowed to feel and react however the fuck you want.”

“I want to be happy for them,” I said before amending my words. “I am happy for them.”

“You can be happy for someone and also feel sad?—”

“I feel—” I swallowed, hating myself for even thinking it. “No, I can’t.”

“Sometimes, saying it out loud helps. You’re only feeding the monster by keeping it in.”

“The monster?”

“Trauma, rage, depression. Whatever your demon is, it feeds off of all those self-doubts and intrusive thoughts. The less we acknowledge them, the bigger those monsters grow inside our head, and pretty soon, there’s not a whole lot of room left for us.”

“You sound very well-adjusted for someone who can’t talk to his brother.”

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