Page 77 of My Best Friend Is Broken
The comment is calculated to be just absurd enough to break through his spiral, while reminding him of the truth, and it works. Liam huffs out something that’s almost a laugh, and I feel his body relax another fraction.
“Scary mafia boyfriend,” he repeats, and there’s the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice.
It is an absurd phrase, despite the fact he saw me deal with Wayne Thompson.
“Very scary. Terrifying, even. I have a reputation to maintain.”
“You made me hot chocolate with marshmallows this morning.”
“Scary people can still appreciate the finer things in life. Like marshmallows.”
This time he definitely laughs, a real one, soft and brief but genuine. His arms wrap around my waist, holding on like I’m an anchor in a storm he can’t see but can definitely feel.
“You’ll never be scary to me, Nicky. I have an image of you forever burned into my eyes. You pissing in your mum’s best vase because you were too scared to go upstairs to the bathroom after we watched that horror film.”
“Firstly,” I say with all the pretend seriousness I can muster. “You should have stopped being an asshole and gone upstairs with me. Secondly, this is why I have to keep you safe now. You know all my secrets.”
He laughs again and then snuggles closer. My arms tighten around him, and I breathe him in.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
“For what?” I ask as my heart thumps.
I hate that he always thanks me. For even the smallest amount of basic human decency. As if kindness is extraordinary. More than anything else has, it paints a vivid picture of how awful prison was.
“Thank you for not making me explain. For just... being here. For letting me fall apart without asking me to justify why.”
“You never have to justify your feelings to me. Good days, bad days, days when nothing makes sense, I’m here for all of them.”
We stay like that for a long time, wrapped around each other on the sofa while the TV plays forgotten in the background. I can feel the moment when Liam finally lets go of the last of his resistance, when he stops fighting theanxiety and just accepts that today is hard and that’s all there is to it.
His breathing evens out. His muscles unclench. His fingers stop their restless tapping against my ribs. He doesn’t fall asleep. I can tell he’s still awake by the way his hand occasionally shifts to find a new grip on my shirt. But he’s calmer now. Present instead of lost in whatever dark place his mind tried to drag him to.
“I’m scared,” he admits after a while, his voice muffled against my chest.
“Of what?”
“That I’ll always be like this. That I’ll have these bad days forever, that I’ll never be able to just... be normal without constantly waiting for the next breakdown.”
It’s a fear I understand, even if I’ve never experienced it quite the way he has. The worry that healing has a limit, that there’s only so much better you can get before you plateau at a level that’s still broken.
“Maybe you will have bad days forever,” I say honestly. “Maybe this is something you’ll always have to manage, something that will always be part of who you are. But you know what?”
“What?”
“That doesn’t make you less worthy of love or happiness or a full life. It just means you have to work a little harder some days than other people do. And you’re strong enough for that. I’ve seen your strength, Liam. I’ve watched you survive things that would have destroyed most people.”
“I don’t feel strong.”
“You don’t have to feel it for it to be true.”
He’s quiet for a moment, processing this. “And you’ll really stay? Even if I’m like this sometimes? Even if I have days when I can’t explain what’s wrong or how to fix it?”
“Especially then. That’s when you need me most.”
I feel his grip tighten, his face pressing harder against my chest like he’s trying to burrow inside me where it’s safe. The trust in that gesture, the willingness to be vulnerable, to accept comfort, to believe that I mean what I say, is more precious than anything I’ve ever been given.
“The bad days don’t last forever,” I tell him softly. “They feel like they will, but they don’t. Tomorrow might be better. Or the day after. And even if it’s not, even if you have a string of bad days, we’ll get through them together.”
