Page 121 of Becoming Us
I leaned my chin on my knees, hugging my legs. “Yeah, well.”
Silence stretched around us again.
“Noah…”
I glanced at him. His frown had deepened.
“Your dad died in October?”
The change in subject threw me. I nodded.
I was good at sidestepping that conversation. Never talk about dates—nothing that got too close. I had lied about it so much I couldn’t always remember the truth myself.
“That’s the date on your hip?” Atty bowed his head, his pale eyes finding mine and keeping me there.
“No.” I bit my lip before attempting to break another of my rules for him. “October second was the last time I saw him conscious. After that…not so much. It’s a complicated date. It’sa great memory mixed with a terrible one at the same time. I didn’t want to remember the day he died. I’ve actively been trying to forget about it for a very long time, so getting that on my skin permanently felt counterintuitive. That was on the fifteenth.”
Atty’s eyes widened. I wanted to look away, but I didn’t. It wasn’t pity I saw—just recognition settling in.
It was right around when we first met. Almost one year on the dot.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me that?”
I shrugged. “I didn’t want to bring up all that fucked-upness right off the bat.”
He shook his head, eyes falling to his lap. “You were going through so much, and I had no fucking clue. You should’ve said something.”
I bit my lip, thinking about just how much more I still hadn’t opened up about. “I know, Atty. If I could go back, trust me—there’s a long list of things I’d do differently. But I can’t change it. All I can do is say I’m sorry. Again.”
“You don’t have to apologize for it,” he murmured. “I just wish you’d stop making yourself go through everything alone.”
That made me pause.
I reached for his hand and pulled it into my lap. His eyes flicked up to meet mine.
“I’m trying, Atty. With you. Right now.” I swallowed hard. “And I don’t want this to sound like emotional manipulation, but that’s why I asked you to come. Not because my mom invited you. I know that weekend’s going to suck—I’m going to be triggered and overwhelmed, and I have no idea how I’ll keep it together. But I’m not running from it.”
His hand tightened in mine.
“And I wanted you there because being with you makes everything better.”
His gaze dropped to my lap, to our hands.
“But I get?—”
“If I come, are you going to talk to me? About what’s going on?”
My heart skipped. “Of course.”
“I don’t mean just explain. When it gets bad—are you going to talk to me? Or are you going to disappear?”
I stared at him, guilt burrowing under my skin at the look on his face.
These are the scars you left on him, Noah. Deal with the consequences.
“Yes,” I said. “I’m going to talk to you. I promise. I might resist at first, but I’ll try my best. I swear.”
“This isn’t just for me,” he said, pulling on his hand a bit. “You said you want me there to help. This is how I help.Youcan’t leave.”
