“What? No! Of course not. He’s stuck around in Carbondale for two years because of you. He was stalking you, for crying out loud! Which is weird, okay, but, I mean… you don’t stalk people you hate. If anything, I’d say he’s obsessed with you. You’re his family. His only family.”

For some reason, this didn’t seem to make Wynonna feel any better. In fact, she looked worse. She folded her arms over her stomach and leaned forward like she was ill.

“I hate myself,” she said.

I stared at her, silently.

“Not just now,” she continued. “I’ve always hated myself. Deep down. It’s like the core of who I am. This great, big, rotten, fucking core.”

“How can you say that?” I said—like the world’s biggest hypocrite. I was obviously the King of Hating Myself.

Or… I had been.

Now that I thought about it, everything that had happened recently was making it more and more difficult to hate myself. There was something about caring for someone—genuinely caring for them—that made you forget yourself. That made you realize you were part of something bigger. That you were important. That you were loved.

I realized that now. I was loved. By my family. By my friends.

“You wouldn’t get it,” said Wynonna. “You’re perfect. You care about everyone, and everyone cares about you. But me? I can’t even visit my mom’s grave because it hurts too much. I can’t even look my dad in the eyes. Goddamn, Ezra, I can’t even hold a polite conversation with Carol! I’m not a human being. I’m a fucking train wreck.”

“You think I’m perfect?”

“Dude. I know you’re perfect. You’re like one of the Precious Moments figurines. You’re so perfect, it’s disgusting, and it makes me want to hate you, but I can’t because you’re perfect.”

“I’m not perfect,” I said. “You know I’m not perfect. Remember when I spent a month meeting with your dad behind your back, and you almost killed me?”

“Because you were trying to help me!” Wynonna exclaimed. Lines of moisture brimmed in her eyes. “This is who we are, Ezra: You’re the person who helps, and I’m the person who needs… who needs…”

She mouthed the word “help,” but it came out as a choking sob.