“Um, I just want to, uh, I want to apologize about earlier.”

“Apologize for what?” I ask her.

Her eyes meet mine, her blue to my gray, and she says, “About, um, about crying by the lake.”

“Why the hell are you apologizing for that?”

“Because,” she says, raising her chin. “This is…this is a mutual relationship where we are trying to⁠—”

“I’m sorry, Scottie, but I’m going to cut off whatever you’re about to say, because I’m telling you right now, I’m not going to agree with it.” I turn toward her and say, “You don’t need to put on a brave face for me. You don’t need to act like everything is okay. You don’t need to act like you don’t have feelings or emotions. Hell, you don’t need to cry by yourself. I’m here for you. Do you understand that? For you, Scottie. No one else. I’m at this camp, in this cabin, for you. I’m here for no other reason. So you can try to act like this is all business, but I refuse to let you go through what’s clouding your mind by yourself.”

She shakes her head. “Wilder, you don’t have to do that. I’m Mika’s friend⁠—”

“Which means, by extension, you’re my friend.”

She exhales, and I can see her wanting to push me away, but I’m not going to let her. “Please, I don’t want you thinking you need to treat me differently.”

“Treat you differently. How the hell would I treat you differently?”

Her eyes meet mine. “Pity, Wilder. I don’t want your pity.”

“Good, because I’m not offering pity. But I am offering understanding. I’m offering a shoulder to cry on when you need it. I’m offering a listening ear. I’m offering you an opportunity for escapism. I’m offering a reliable friendship.”

Her lips tilt to the side, and she looks away, not saying a damn thing until she sucks in a deep breath and then mouths, “Damn it,” as she starts to cry again.

She dabs at her eyes with the back of her hand, clearly not wanting me to see her cry. But I don’t give a shit. I take her hand in mine, tugging her closer to me, and wrap my arm around her shoulders, bringing her into my side.

And we stay like that for I don’t know how long, her quietly crying and me holding on to her, making sure she knows she’s not alone.