Page 115 of Secret Love

“It’s me. I’m so sorry, tiny dancer. I’ve been trying to deal with all these feelings myself and ended up being a selfish dick in the process.”

“It’s okay,” she says softly.

“No, it’s not.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “I’m sad you thought you had to deal with it alone. But maybe I’m just not the one you need with you right now.”

“I need you most of all,” I tell her.

“Then let me in. Don’t shut me out.”

“Can you come over tonight? Better yet, move in with me.”

She laughs. “I’ll come over tonight.”

“I can’t wait to see you. I’ve missed you so much…I will do better.”

“You don’t have to be better than you are. I can walk through this with you.”

“I love you. Bowie reminded me that I need to see the team’s psychologist too, so I’ll be doing that soon.”

“That’s a great idea. I love you, Henley. I’m really glad you called. I was afraid…” Her voice cracks. “I thought you might be breaking up with me.”

My breath hitches. “No. You deserve better than me, but I’m not going anywhere. I almost lost sight of what is most important, but I won’t make that mistake again. I promise you that.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

I’LL HAVE WHAT HE’S HAVING

TRU

We’ve talked so much more since I’ve been back at Henley’s, but it still hasn’t been easy. For the past two nights, I’ve woken up in the middle of the night and he hasn’t been in bed. I’ve found him in the living room watching old Mustangs games or just sitting in the dark.

But now that he’s let me in, I’m not scaring off easily. He had an appointment with Dr. Katie and that helped, but it’s not goingto turn around overnight. I’m too worried about him to leave him alone again…not just about his recovery, but about his state of mind.

We’re driving to the hospital the morning of the surgery, and it’s still dark out. I glance over at Henley. He’s staring out the window and looks so sad.

“Hey,” I say quietly. We’re at a stoplight near the hospital and he turns to look at me. I clench the steering wheel. “I love you no matter what.”

He stares at me, his throat working as he swallows, and he reaches out and touches my face.

“I love you, Tru Seymour.”

The light turns and I just want to keep looking at him, but I look at the road.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a lot to handle.” His voice is scratchy and sleepy. “I’m afraid…”

I wait, my heart pounding with his words. When he doesn’t say anything else, I glance at him.

“I’m afraid it’s just gonna get worse,” he adds.

“The pain?”

“This darkness I’ve been feeling. I don’t want it to, but I can’t seem to snap out of it.”

“You don’t have to snap out of anything. You’re hurting, you’re uncertain of what comes next…it’s a lot to go through.”

“It’s pretty stupid when you think about it—it’s just a game.” He snorts and adjusts in his seat.

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