Page 71 of Lost Boy

I used to worry she’d be the one who got away. But now that the universe has permanently tied us together … maybe she won’t have to be.

I glance at the clock, knowing that in a few hours … I have to come head-to-head with one of my biggest fears. I have to face my guilt head-on and not blink. My stomach turns, and I feel cold yet sweaty, just thinking about it.

Finding a pen, I pull it between my fingers and set the tip on the paper, and like always … my angel named Haley saves me in a time of despair.

I want to look Eli’s parents in the eyes so badly. I want to because that’s what they deserve. But when I try, my body wants to go into a full-blown panic attack, and I look at the ground again. I’ve avoided them since the day he died. They’ve been nothing but kind to me, but I don’t deserve it. And I know deep down, they know that too. They know I had a hand in their son dying.

Over the past few weeks, Buck has continuously praised me for how far I’ve come. And I believe him. Ifeela lot better. But he’s not stupid. He knows that I’m still holding on to so much guilt from the past. So, a few days ago, he came to me and said that before I graduated the program, he wanted to bring Ellen and Thomas, Eli’s parents, in for a session. If they were open to it, of course. I told him absolutely not. The last thing I wanted to do was cause them more pain. I mean, for fuck’s sake, they lost their son already. Why the hell should they have to travel hours away to visit an ex–drug addict and rid him of his guilt?

Yeah. Sounds pretty fucking stupid to me too.

But then I made the mistake of mentioning it to my mother—who loves to fix things for people because she can’t stand anyone to be hurting. And since she still talks to Ellen a lot, she told her. And of course, Ellen, being the goddamn saint that she is, called Buck right away and scheduled a visit out here.

“Cade hasn’t wanted to talk about this in too much depth, but it’s been very obvious that he carries a great deal of guilt inside of him for what happened to your son, Eli.” Buck says softly, leading the discussion. “Cade has shared some of his fondest memories of his time with your Eli. He sure thinks the world of him. He sounds like he was a great guy.”

I’m thankful that he’s taking charge because I don’t know the first thing I should or shouldn’t say right now. All I know is, I’m scared to make them sad. So, every time I open my mouth to talk, my brain convinces me that whatever I’m about to say is stupid and I should probably keep it inside.

“He was,” Ellen answers, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “And he thought the world of Cade too. Just like we do.”

My throat burns, and my chest aches as I force myself to keep my emotions in check. If I fall apart on them … that’ll make them feel bad for me. I don’t want that. I don’t deserve it.

“Cade is a pretty good dude—that’s for sure. A pain in my ass at times. But he’s a good one,” Buck jokes, and out of the corner of my eye, I see him nod toward me. “And right now, he’s doing great. He’s been a model patient in this program. He’s respectful. He works hard. And a big part of me thinks he is, in fact, ready to leave here. But what I worry about is that when he leaves this program and he feels that same guilt that he always has—which he will—I’m scared he’ll try to numb it with drugs and alcohol.” Buck sighs. “Cade is always going to carry that same heaviness around with him when it comes to Eli and that tragic, awful day. But if he continues to let it consume him, he will never stay sober. And if he doesn’t stay sober, he could wind up dead.”

“I’m sorry,” I mutter, cupping my hand above my eyes. “You shouldn’t have to be here.”

“We want to be here.” Thomas speaks this time. “Growing up, you were at our house as much as you were at your own. Same with Eli at your house. You two boys did everything together.”

Ellen reaches her hand across the small gap between our chairs and places it on top of mine. “I knew my son enough to know that the last thing he would want is for you to hurt, Cade. You were the brother he never had. He loved you so much, and he would rest easier, knowing that you weren’t carrying such aheavy burden on your shoulders.” She gives my hand a squeeze, and finally, I dare to look at her. “That day was not your fault. Eli is not dead because of you. It’s time to heal. For Eli, I need you to do that.”

When she stands, pulling me up for a hug, I fucking lose it. Everything I’ve avoided for so long comes to a head, and I’m forced to feel everything. There are no drugs, alcohol, or even hockey to numb it. And as much as it hurts, it’s also needed.

We hold each other, and I vaguely feel her hand patting the back of my head before Thomas joins us, hugging me too.

“We love you, kid,” Thomas says against my ear. “He loves you too.”

It hurts everywhere. But I guess pain isn’t always a bad thing. Sometimes, it’s just there to remind us we’re still alive.

And that’s something I’m not taking for granted anymore. The fact that I’m lucky enough to be alive.

25

Cade

Ibreathe the air into my lungs and let it out. It isn’t like I have been cooped up inside the whole time in rehab or anything. Actually, I spent more time outside during my program than I probably ever had. But somehow, the air feels different today. Fresher. Better. And it feels like I’m on my way to a new start.

With my duffel bag in one hand, I hold my cell phone in the other. First time I’ve held the thing in twelve weeks, and surprisingly, I didn’t miss it all that much. I found a calmness in being alone. Without the distractions of social media, texting, and calling. Before rehab, I couldn’t stand to be alone, just me, but I grewsort of comfortable with it.

My dad throws his arm around me. “Proud of you, Cade.” The emotion is thick in his tone. And he gives my shoulder a squeeze. “Not only for finishing this program, but also for handling the news about the baby so well. You’re going to do just fine, son. No, you’ll be great.”

“Thanks, Dad,” I say, turning back toward the door where Buck and Kobra are walking toward me.

“We’ll be in the car,” Dad tells me before he and my mom get into her SUV.

“I’m gonna miss you, you pain in the ass,” Kobra drawls with a smirk. “Sometimes, when people leave, I get a feeling they aren’t ready, and to be honest, it keeps me up at night.” He pauses, swallowing. “I don’t get that feeling with you though. You’re ready, Cade.”

“Hell yeah, you are,” Buck adds. “And if you ever need us, we’re here. All right?” Buck takes my hand, giving it a firm shake as he pulls me closer. “Keep working the program, okay? Go to your meetings. Call your sponsor, even when you think everything is fine. Don’t ever get too comfortable, all right? There will still be hard days. Or things that set you off. But now, you’ve got all the tools to create the type of reality you want. For you and for that girl you’re in love with and y’all’s baby.”

“Who said I’m—” I start to say, but then I remember when I thought Haley was pregnant with someone else’s child and I blurted out that I loved Haley in front of Buck and my parents.

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