Page 154 of As the World Falls

“Are you kidding me? He has one of the most stressful and dangerous lives. This should be a piece of cake for him.”

Tobias suddenly looks angry, and I stand straighter, confused by his change in demeanor. “Do you ever quit thinking about yourself at all?” he fumes. “James has never once been threatened by anyone. Never had a risk but himself until you. The minute he met you and actually started to care, he opened himself up to feelings he had never felt before. To threats he’s never had before. He has faced fears he never had in his life. He almost lost you after just getting you, and you’re angry that he isn’t coping the same way you are?”

“But he’s worried about me when he shouldn’t be. I told him I was fine, but he won’t let me in.”

“You’re not fine. You’re in here staring at a picture of you and your attempted murderer, for crying out loud.”

“Don’t call him that,” I snap.

“That’s what he is. Lance tried to kill you. And me. And James. The man you thought you knew turned out to be one of those assholes who couldn’t take rejection from a woman, so his next choice of actions was stalking and murder.”

“Stop it,” I yell now.

“On top of that, James had to kill your best friend, and you don’t think he feels like he’s walking on eggshells around you? That he’s not scared that you’ll wake up one day and hate him for what he’s done?”

“It doesn’t change the fact that he won’t even try with me. I am trying with him, and it feels like he isn’t doing anything at all to help himself.”

Tobias exhales, grabbing the bridge of his nose. “When the fuck did I become a fucking love doctor,” he mutters.

“Let’s just drop it then,” I suggest because I was also over this conversation and how he made me feel like I was in the wrong. I was starting to think I actually might be.

“Just give him some slack, okay? That’s all I’m saying.”

“Fine,” I mumble, taking another sip of my soda.

“You’re both so fucking stubborn,” he mutters quietly.

“Shut up.”

“You shut up. I wish both of you would just shut up and leave me alone,” he shoots back.

“What are you even still doing here?”

“I’m checking on you because you need it. Now shut up and help me find the TV remote.”

“Find it yourself,” I grumble, moving to the living room and sitting on the couch as he finds the remote on the window sill. He snatches it and drops next to me, making the sofa slide back several inches. “You freaking oaf!”

“Get a sturdier couch,” he grouses.

“Or just quit being a big oaf,” I suggest. He scoffs, shakes his head, and turns on the TV, flipping through the guide menu.

“Ooo, Antiques Roadshow,” we both chime simultaneously the second it crosses the TV. We both glare at each other, his nostrils flaring as he turns to look back at the TV. But then he clicks it, turning it on, and we snuggle into our separate spots on the couch and watch it together.

“Pizza?” he suggests without turning to look at me.

I grab my cell phone out of my pocket, tossing it to him. “You order.”

“Cheese and bacon?”

“Duh,” I mutter, to which he just nods and opens the phone to call the pizza shop.

I slump back, anxiety starting to crash into me like violent, unyielding waves. Realizations dawning on me.

I’d been through this before. The loss of someone I loved. It wasn’t new to me, and I was, unfortunately, a bit of an expert on how to deal with grief.

Was this situation slightly different? Hell freaking yes. It was all kinds of fucked up. But was I handling it? Yes.

I always did.

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