She starts stacking on more pink, purple, and white beads and says, “Yeah, I know. Sorry about that.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” she sighs.

“Maybe you should. Because isn’t that what we’re here for? For you to shed the burden of your ex that you’ve been carrying around?”

She slowly nods. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Let me ask you this,” I say, helping her out with the conversation. “Did your ex not give you the attention you deserved? It seems to be a recurring theme with everything we’ve talked about in these sessions.”

She sighs. “Because toward the end, he just stopped caring. Didn’t say hi when I got home from work. Didn’t care to kiss me good night. Didn’t even think it was important to have dinner with me at times. He just…just didn’t consider me important enough to grant me his time.”

“I’m sorry,” I say. “Seems like his loss though, because I’ve enjoyed spending time with you immensely.”

“You don’t have to say that to make me feel better,” she says.

I tie off her bracelet and then take her hand in mine. I slide it over her wrist and say, “There’s one thing I can guarantee you—I won’t say shit just to make you feel better. I say what I mean.” I look her in the eyes. “I enjoy spending time with you, Scottie. You’re fucking cool.”

Her cheeks blush as she stares down at her bracelet.

“Thank you.”

“And this is where you say I’m pretty cool too.”

She chuckles and then ties up her bracelet as well. She slips it onto my wrist and says, “You’re pretty cool too, Wilder.”

Chapter Sixteen

SCOTTIE

“That baked potato was fucking phenomenal,” Wilder says while patting his mouth with his napkin.

Something I’ve noticed about Wilder is that he’s the glass-half-full kind of guy. Anything and everything has some sort of positive spin on it. He’s a millionaire at a marriage summer camp, claiming a baked potato—that I believe was slightly dry—was fucking phenomenal. Making bracelets was a “sick” activity. Running an obstacle course this morning was the most fun he’s had in a while. It’s the simple things that are making him happy, and I find that fascinating.

He has a thirst for life.

The need to explore.

To engage.

To experience the journey beyond a screen. He wants to capture moments on this earth, and I find it so refreshing.

“Wasn’t that good?” he asks as he downs the rest of his drink.

“Yeah, it was good,” I say, even though it could have used a little more sour cream in my opinion.

“The bacon was extra crispy too, and it turned into dust when I bit down on it. That’s what bacon should be. Dust in my mouth.”