He could feel it. It was so close that his fingertips tingled with the desire to touch it, but he hadn’t let himself.
He wanted her. He wanted that version of happy she seemed to think they could have, but the truth of it was... He was so tired. He was so tired of hoping. Hoping and not having. And what was the point of snow on the beach or fucking Christmas if you just felt this raw? He couldn’t drive home, because the roads were closed. But he could drive back to Portland. He could go stay with Beth for a little bit. He could get a little...time away.
He showed up, and Beth answered the door, looking sleepy. “What are you doing here? I thought you were doing family Christmas.”
“Yeah. I was. But do you have room for a guy with unresolved trauma?”
“Always,” she said.
“Thanks.”
He stepped inside and looked around the apartment, which was put together, just like Beth. Which made him wonder, not for the first time, if she had the right of it. If dealing with your trauma was the only way to really live.
“What happened?” she asked.
“How do you know something happened?”
“Because you are normally with your family on Christmas Eve, and now you’re not.”
“Yeah I... It’s complicated. In a way that you probably don’t want to hear.”
“I love complicated. But Luna will also want to hear this.”
“Great. You might as well have a show out of my trauma. Did I tell you that I used to date my stepsister?”
“Luna!” Beth shouted. “You have to come hear Colton’s batshit story.”
“Yeah. It really is batshit.”
He told both of them everything. The whole spiel.
“In fairness,” Beth said, “that’s not really dating your stepsister. I mean, you were with her first.”
“That is true,” he said. “I was. My dad poached on my territory.”
“That’s how I see it,” Luna said. “So I think you have to take that out of the equation.”
“But I can’t. It’s impossible. I still have to see her all the time. And if something goes wrong, it’s going to screw up everything.”
“But something already went wrong.”
“I mean, if something goes wrong and...”
“You get your heart broken,” Beth said. “That’s what you’re worried about.”
“It’s not even that. My heart is broken. What I’m worried about is spending all those years waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’d rather just leave them dropped.”
“Trauma response,” said Beth.
“Well thank you very fucking much, Beth. What should I do about it?”
“Go to a therapist.”
“I need a quicker fix than that.”
“Maybe you need to go back further?”
“How?”