With careful breaths, I waited for the anxiety to come, but only fear and misery rose with my tears, and those grew to outright sobs. When Sam found me, I didn’t question how she knew. I simply sank into her hug and cried until I was empty.

“I know,” she whispered, rocking me back and forth like a baby. “I know. It’ll be over before you know it, I promise. You’ll get stronger every day. Just hold on and breathe.”

Did she realize her words applied to us both?

“You’ll get stronger. It’ll get easier.”

It became my mantra.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Six

Morgan

Just promise me that you won’t let this break you. The idea of being your tragedy kills me.

Sam left two weeks after Jackson did. She’d protested the entire time, swearing she could stay longer if I needed her, but she’d taken all the time away from her life that she could, and I wasn’t going to make her miss a single day of graduate school.

Besides, Dr. Circe had cleared me from complicated grief treatment, and though I still saw her for anxiety, she assured me that the loss I still felt regarding Will was on a healthy, normal track.

The loss I felt from Jackson? Well, that was of my own making.

He’d been gone three weeks now, and breathing…it wasn’t easier, and when the anxiety gripped my throat and threatened to close it, I took my mind elsewhere and reminded myself that I didn’t have a boyfriend, so there was no need to be such a wimp about it.

I climbed into the truck and cranked the ignition. It roared to life, and I grinned. Today was the day, and since I had three weeks before school started, a brand-new master bathroom, and newly gutted spare bedrooms to make over, it was time to head to the hardware store.

Seat belt fastened and driver’s seat adjusted from Will’s last ride to my shorter frame, I put the truck in drive and…drove. “What were you listening to?” I asked him as I flipped on the stereo.

Johnny Cash filled the speakers, and I laughed. “Of course you were.” The scent of leather and Will still permeated the cab, so I rolled the windows down and let the humid ocean air fill the space as I drove the streets of the little town I’d decided to call home.

I bought supplies, put them in the bed, and climbed back into the driver’s seat. It was all so…normal, and yet Will was still everywhere. It wasn’t my truck—it was his. I brushed my thumb over his wings. Not those. They deserved to stay. My eyes drifted to his dog tags.