Page 32 of Echoes of Us

“Yeah, go ahead. I’ll finish up here. I have extra toothbrushes on the sink if you need one. I don’t think my clothes would fit you, though,” he said apologetically.

“Definitely not,” I said.

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine.

“Don’t worry, I had my bag with me when I got here. I have an extra set of sweats in there,” I told him, picking it upand walking towards his shower. I stopped. “Do you want me to use one of the other rooms?”

“No, go ahead, use mine,” he said, and I walked back towards it.

I scrubbed away the grime and fatigue, the hot water soothing my tense muscles. Clean and refreshed, I put on my sweats and brushed my teeth, feeling like a normal human being again.

When I returned to him, he had finished his food and was curled up on the couch, looking down at his phone and listening to music. I went and sat next to him.

He glanced up at me. “You look nice,” he said to me again, his eyes lingering a bit longer than usual.

I bit back my smile. “It was necessary. What are you doing?”

“I’m just letting my mom and Holly know I’m alive.”

My heart clenched again. I was overcome with the need to hug him close. I settled for moving my leg a little towards him, my knee barely touching his thigh. “Good.”

He smiled and moved his leg closer to mine. That was good enough.

He put his phone down and sighed. “I feel like I owe you an explanation,” he said, scratching his head.

“You don’t.”

“I want to tell you, Atty. Sometimes, I get these really low lows, and it’s tough for me to get out of bed, like you witnessed yesterday. I take medication for it, an antidepressant, but I haven’t taken it in a while, because sometimes I think I’m fine and I stop, and then shit like this happens,” he explained.

“Are you taking it again?”

“Yeah, I started this morning. They take a while to kick in, you know—weeks—but yeah,” he said.

“That’s good. Was it the call with your mom?” I asked.

He remained silent for a while before answering. “Yup.After my dad died, she was supposed to manage the household, you know? But she sucked at it. So I took over before she spent everything. She called me, upset because she had run out of money again, and I needed to transfer her more. That was it.”

“That sounds like a lot,” I told him.

He smiled tightly. “It just sucks taking care of your parents.”

“I can’t imagine,” I said truthfully.

“Parent,” he corrected, slightly over pronouncing the t. His hand was fiddling with his phone case.

Suddenly, the knee touch didn’t seem like a good enough response. I grabbed his hand, holding it between mine. Our eyes met.

“I don’t usually do this—try to comfort people—so I’m not very good at it. I’m having a little trouble holding back with you today,” I told him.

He smiled, his eyes softening. “You’re too fucking adorable. You’re better at it than you think.” He shook his head and looked back at our hands. He pulled his hand away and then laced his fingers through one of mine. “That’s how you do it. For future reference.”

I smiled back. That sounded nice—for future reference.

He looked at me, and I felt the jolt again. It wasn’t just that I was attracted to or liked him. It had turned into something bigger than that. I cared about him. I wanted to help him get better, and I wanted this never to happen again. He kept his eyes on me, his green orbs brightening. Then he looked away, discomfort flickering across his face.

“What?” I asked.

“Sometimes, when you look at me like that, it’s almost like I can hear what you’re thinking.”

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