lur of streetlights an

ok on the st

elt like swal

led into the driveway, lights

ho

made for him

from my grandmother, a saf

boots loud on th

other' s Martin leaning ag

surprise, then his usual

e home

No shame.

long?" I asked,

d. "Whose

y important, very in-p

twitched

We were working on s

casually, like

t just shattered on

ted, hollow. "The one

d. "What are you

are lie to me. I saw you

a second, panic f

rs ago, when the muddy water of th

ut of nowhere, turning the

n, dragged me out just as

aved

d against a tree, water rising, for wha

erce, the confident

bic, anxiety-ridden m

because I lo

d my life. I owed him. I th

w was differ

n me?" he accused,

to see if you were okay,

said, deflecting. "She gets it. You just... y

it like a p

racked. "I gave up everything

let me forget i

g to my mother' s Martin. "You

a dismissive,

here. She liked it. It

k. The one you smashed my Fender over when you had one of you

ntered wood, my heartbroken te

ally. My anxiety...

With your therapist! In our house! With

was raw

up, his f

.. an inspiration. Something you

care of you, writing with you, for you, u

song... it' s the best th

. Proud of b

closer, his

y, so needy, I wouldn't need t

was so complet

almost doubted

ss, of her hand on his ar

liar, Jax.

hen his face h

t pressure me. She doesn't

as a cold, heavy

making excuses.

d, I was t

as th

just...