“I didn’t leave to be with Aida, Cash. I didn’t leave because I changed my fucking mind and didn’t want to be with you. I left because I didn’t know what the fuck else to do. I panicked and had a severe mental breakdown. Not only did I watch Aida die, but it felt like my fucking fault that she died… that the other woman died, and I couldn’t process that. If I hadn’t wanted a divorce, then Aida wouldn’t have been drinking as much, and all of this could’ve been avoided. I didn’t know how to handle it—the guilt. So, I packed everything and left for Texas to be with my sister.

Tears fall hot and fast down my face as I avoid looking at Cash. I can’t. The weight in my chest is making it hard to breathe, and saying all of this is too much.

“I know I told you my parents died when I was eighteen, but I don’t think I ever told you how.” I drag in another deep breath, dreading saying this next part, but knowing I need to. “They drove me to WSU to get settled into my dorm before the school year started my freshmen year. We went to dinner that night, celebrated, and had a really great time. They dropped me off at the dorm afterward and headed back home.

“But they never made it.” My voice cracks getting the words out. It’s like I’m right back there, the feeling of knowing they’re gone as fresh as the night it happened.

“They were T-boned by a drunk driver about five miles from home. The driver pushed them into oncoming traffic, where they were hit again by another driver who didn’t have enough time to stop. My dad died on impact, and my mom was taken to the hospital, where she died a few hours later. They were dead before I could even get to them. They died before I could fucking say goodbye. Aida’s accident just hit too fucking close to home, and I needed Molly.” A sob claws its way up my throat. “I needed my sister, and I didn’t have the mental capacity to handle anything in the right way.

“I should’ve told you. I should’ve said goodbye, or done anything other than what I did, and I will forever be so fucking sorry for that. I didn’t know what else to do, Cash. I didn’t know what to fucking do. I was a shell of a man by the time I arrived here. My sister didn’t even know what to do with me. She’d wake up to my nightmares almost nightly. I wasn’t eating; I was barely sleeping. A walking zombie. She got me into therapy shortly after I got here, but it took a long time before I even felt semi-okay.”