Page 117 of Holding On

"You were drunk. And it wasn't just your decision. Even if you'd told her to put her seatbelt on, that doesn't mean she would've listened."

"I'm bigger than her. I could've lifted her off me, set her on the seat, and forced the seatbelt on her."

I feel like I need to keep reassuring him it wasn't his fault but I don't think my words are helping. He needs to come to that conclusion himself. Until he's ready to give up his guilt, nothing I say will change how he feels.

"So that's why," he says, sounding like himself again, shutting down the emotion he felt just moments ago. "That's why I was acting like that yesterday. Emily called in the morning and it fucked me up for the rest of the day. But I'm better now."

"No you're not. You're just pushing your feelings away so you don't have to deal with them."

"That's not what I'm doing."

"It is," I say plainly. "You're just not at a place where you can accept that yet."

I know this because what Ethan is going through, the guilt he feels, is similar to what Mike deals with every day. Through his podcast, he connects with military men and women who blame themselves for the deaths of their friends. Even if their deaths were caused by a bomb going off that they had no control over, they still blame themselves. Even Mike did. He used to blame himself for the bomb that killed his buddies. He says he doesn't anymore but I think a part of him still does.

Ethan smiles. "You playing psychiatrist now?" His arm goes around my waist and he pulls me onto his lap and kisses me. "I thought you were studying nursing, not psychiatry."

"I am. I'm just saying I know how tough it can be to relive bad memories."

I don't explain why. I haven't told Ethan what happened to Mike, not because I don't want to. It just hasn't come up. Ethan knows Mike has a podcast but I didn't tell him what it's about. And I've never told Ethan about Mike's leg. I chose not to because a missing leg doesn't define my brother. It shouldn't matter. It doesn't change who he is.

Ethan kisses me again, but it's a longer, sexier kiss.

"Don't start something you can't finish," I say.

"Why can't I finish?" he says over my lips.

"Because I have to leave in a few minutes."

"Plenty of time."

I sit back. "A few minutes? No way. I deserve better than that."

He chuckles. "You're right. You do." He pulls my face back to his, his soft lips pressing against mine. "Come back here tonight. Stay with me."

I smile. "Okay."

"Really?" He sounds surprised. "I thought you'd say no. Now I've got something to look forward to."

He can't possibly mean that. He's Ethan Baxter. He should have a lot more than me to look forward to. His last year of college. A football career. Millions of dollars. If he's not looking forward to that stuff, that's a problem.

"You should be looking forward to a lot more than that. You have a big future." I wait to see if he'll share his feelings about that but instead he brushes it off.

"The future is far away. You're right here. Right now. So you're what I'm looking forward to."

Once again, I couldn't get him to talk. He shuts down whenever a serious topic comes up. But at least I got him to tell me about yesterday. If our relationship is going to go anywhere, at least that's a step in the right direction.

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