Page 83 of It's Always Sonny

“I felt stupid. She acted like I was being flighty and impetuous because I was planning to stay with her. But she wouldn’t believe me that I cared about her more than football.”

“If you don’t love the NFL, why are you still playing?” Dad asks.

I sigh. “I think deep down, I’ve been trying to prove to PJ that I’m the sort of guy who can commit to something.”

Sienna puts her gloved hand to her chest. “Sonny.”

I shrug, because Sienna looks like she wants to cry, and that’s the last thing I want for her. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll figure it out.”

“You don’t have to figure it out alone,” she says. “Talk to us.”

“I don’t need to talk about anything,” I insist. “I have the best life in the world.” My family trades glances. “Guys, seriously, I’m fine. We don’t need to talk about something so heavy. We should be having fun.”

“You’re allowed to feel this,” Sienna says.

“I know,” I say, getting more and more frustrated. “I’m not worried about me.”

My sister rocks back in her seat. “Then who are you worried about?”

“Never mind.”

“Sonny!” she says. “Is this about me? Are you worried about me feeling sad because you’re sad?”

I don’t answer.

Then my sister rushes around the table and pulls me into a hug every bit as good as one of my mom’s.

“You are the stupidest person I know,” she says with a watery laugh.

“I hate seeing you sad,” I admit, my throat swelling with emotion.

“Well, get used to it. Because even if I do become a mother, I’m still going to be sad sometimes. Who knows? I could finally get my miracle baby and still get postpartum depression!”

“Then I’ll come over and nanny for you,” I say.

“And I’ll let you. But I’m not a troubled fifteen-year-old anymore, Sunshine. You don’t have to fight my battles for me.”

“But I can try.”

And now my parents are chuckling like I’m as obstinate as Felix. “Sonny, you’ve always been such a fixer.” Mom says. “But not everything needs fixing. Sometimes it’s enough just to know your problems are seen.”

My conversation with PJ from the bathroom comes into my head.

“You said I couldn’t see you like this.”

“That Sonny couldn’t,” she told me. “I think this one can.”

So that’s what she meant.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want me to see her when she was having a panic attack.

It’s that she didn’t think I was capable of it.

She thought I would try to fix her. But she never needed someone to fix her. She needed someone to see her broken pieces and love her anyway.

I start crying. In a really manly way, but boy, are the tears coming.

“I’ve never stopped loving her. I know it’s been a long time, and I don’t think I even realized that until I saw her again a few months ago. But the second I saw her again, I was done. I canceled with the woman I was supposed to go out with the next night, and everything. Since the first time I heard her speak in class, she’s been it for me.”

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