Page 7 of First Christmas

She was speaking softly, like she was dealing with a frightened animal. Her eyes were crinkled behind her glasses in worry and she had to be freezing. She’d kneeled in front of me in the snow in her leggings and sweatshirt, barefoot and messy ponytail.

“Becks?” Lucas’ gruff voice came from above us as he ran up. “Shit,” he had his large hand under my arm and one under Monica’s helping us up. Once he made sure Monica was steady, his gaze swung solely to me. His gray eyes taking me in. I was still trembling so hard I felt faint.

“Deep breaths with me, baby girl,” he said, softly and coaching, like my therapist had shown him.

“What’s going on?” Monica asked softly, behind him, “How long has this been happening?”

“We’ll talk in the house,” Lucas replied, guiding us both inside. Leaving the chocolate cake and its pan discarded in the snow, forgotten for the moment.

As he settled me on Monica’s plush, comfy couch, she draped a blanket over me. Lucas knelt in front of me, trying to meet my gaze, his large hands rubbing my thighs as my breaths calmed.

“Tell me what’s wrong,” Monica demanded, getting frustrated with us both.

“Becks has still been struggling with everything that happened,” Lucas explained softly. His gray eyes still meeting mine, rubbing my arms, trying to warm and soothe me, “She’s been seeing a therapist weekly to deal with the trauma from the relationship with Clark, running for so long, and the kidnapping. She’s been doing better. This was out of the blue. Her anxiety has been worse lately.”

“God,” Monica whispered, sitting beside me and drawing me to her. I still felt numb, weak, and embarrassed. “Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked tearfully.

I shook my head, at a loss for words or explanation. Here she sat taking care of me when it was her that had lost her husband in a tragedy.

“She didn’t want to worry you. You’re still grieving too,” said Lucas, gruffer now, frustrated himself because he’d tried to get me to talk to her.

“I told her she should. She needs support and she knows she has it. Stubborn, independent woman.”

I glared at him and took a deep, shaky breath.

“I don’t know. Things have been worse this month again.” My voice came out frailer than usual, unlike how I typically spoke. “My therapist actually…” I broke off, realizing I hadn’t even shared this with Lucas yet because I hadn’t wanted to worry him.

His eyes narrowed on me and so did my best friend’s.

“Tell us,” She demanded, crossing her arms in front of her.

“She said the therapy has helped. Talking it out, and it definitely has.” I continued, their shapes blurring as my eyes filled with tears. I hated admitting weakness and defeat and this was the equivalent of that to me. It was like I was still giving Clark power over me.

What if it was too much for Lucas finally? The months of nightmares, flashbacks, and PTSD.

“Becks. I’d hope you know by now that nothing you can say would ever change my feelings for you. I’m all in. I’m here, baby. I’m never going anywhere. You’ve dealt with a lot of trauma. Abuse, running, being alone, then being kidnapped, and killing two people, even though it was in self defense. Sweetheart…You’re allowed to need help.” His large hand rested on my face, thumb brushing some tears that were falling

Monica was nodding frantically beside him and tears were rolling off her face too. Both of our tears, falling into our laps.

“She thinks I need medication. For the attacks, and to get better sleep. I haven’t been sleeping…” I whispered, “Especially when you’re on night shift.”

Lucas’ brows came together, “Becks…” he sighed, like I had broken his heart. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Mon was sniffling beside me.

“Would you stop being so freakishly strong?” She demanded, abruptly.

My eyes swung to hers. We were both sobbing messes.

“There’s no shame in therapy. In medication. I’ve been taking something for anxiety for years. You need to take care of yourself and let us help you. You’re not alone anymore. You’re not alone, Becks.”

“I just don’t know what the breaking point is going to be!” I blurted out. “When am I going to be too much? When will I have finally taken too much from all of you?”

Lucas' jaw tightened, clenching his teeth.

“Never.” He promised. “That’s what a real family, and real relationships look like, Rebecca. I know Monica feels the sameway. That’s not how this friend group operates. Never has, and never will, sweetheart.”

Monica was nodding emphatically.

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