I still can’t bring myself to look at Cash.

“It took several sessions before I could even talk about what I witnessed. Even longer to talk about… well, you. The way I left you behind. It took almost a year of seeing my therapist multiple times a week, trying various medications, and finding a new routine here, for me to even feel human. I was a fucking mess. The only part of my life that felt normal and helped me feel like myself was working. Getting the dean position was my saving grace. I was still far from okay, but during those hours I sat behind that desk, I could at least hold it together long enough to function. At night was the worst. I’d have vivid nightmares about the accident, and I’d wake up drenched, with my heart pounding painfully in my chest. My therapist gave me so many techniques to try to help with the flashbacks and the nightmares, but the only thing that seemed to help was standing under a scalding hot shower with music on.

“And by the time I got to a point where I felt human, it had already been so long since I left. I couldn’t do that to you. I hurt you enough. I couldn’t barge into your life like an unexpected tornado and ruin any progress you had made. You’d moved on and—”

“What?”

My gaze snaps toward him at the sound of his voice. It’s harsh, clipped, and his eyes are narrowed as he watches me.

“What?” I ask, unsure which part he was questioning me on.

“How do you know that? How did you know I had moved on?”

Shit. May as well tell the whole fucking truth. I’ve made it this far.

“Uh,” I sputter, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’ve, uh, watched you on Instagram since shortly after I left.”

“You what?” he hisses, not necessarily sounding angry, but maybe more confused.

“I said I—”

“No,” he says, holding his hand up. “I heard you. Just… what?” He exhales heavily, his face screwed up in utter confusion. “Why?”

“Because… It helped me feel close to you, and feeling close to you is the only time I’ve felt relatively close to normal in my whole life. It’s selfish, I know, but seeing you—even through the phone—helped ground me. I didn’t think you ever knew.”

“I didn’t,” he murmurs, almost more to himself than me. “Wait… so you knew I was coming to Lubbock, then?”

Shaking my head, I say, “No. I was on a cruise with Molly. We go on vacation every year together, just her and I, and this year it was a cruise. I had no cell service or internet the entire time, so I was as in the dark about it as you were. I swear.”