19. Chapter 19 #2
"I'd wake up and check my phone. Go to the club and wonder if you'd called Ditch. Every time someone looked at me weird, I thought maybe they'd heard from you."
I swallowed.
"I went to your office once."
Caroline's face changed.
"What?"
"At night."
"When?"
"Second week."
Her hand covered her mouth.
"You weren't there."
"I—"
"I sat in the parking lot for an hour anyway."
A tear slipped down her face.
I looked away.
"That's pathetic."
"No."
"Felt like it."
"No, Colt."
Her voice hardened.
"Needing someone is not pathetic."
"Easy for you to say."
"Why?"
"Because you're the one who left."
Silence.
She took the hit.
Didn't defend herself.
"I deserved that."
"Probably."
"But you don't get to use what I did as proof that needing me was weakness."
I looked at her.
She sat slowly.
"And you don't get to use it as permission to destroy yourself."
There it was.
I felt the wall go up inside me.
"Here we go."
"What?"
"Concerned therapist."
Her expression hardened.
"I'm not here as your therapist."
"Could've fooled me."
"Then let me be clearer."
She leaned forward.
"I'm here as a woman who spent sixteen hours watching a monitor because the man she loves decided he deserved to be beaten unconscious."
Everything stopped.
The room.
The pain.
My breath.
"What?"
Caroline went pale.
Apparently, she hadn't meant to say it like that.
Good.
I was tired of careful.
She looked at the floor.
"No."
I shifted and nearly blacked out from the pain.
"Fuck."
"Colt—"
"No. You don't get to drop that and look away."
Her gaze lifted.
"What did you say?"
She breathed in.
Out.
Then met my eyes.
"I love you."
The words hit harder than any punch in that ring.
I stared at her.
Caroline's hands shook in her lap.
"I don't know when it happened."
Her voice was quieter now.
"I don't know what to do with it. I don't know what it costs me professionally. I don't know if what we could have is healthy yet."
"Great declaration."
"I'm trying to be honest."
"Try harder."
Her eyes narrowed.
I almost smiled.
Almost.
"I love you," she said again. "And I am furious with you."
There it was.
I went still.
"You don't get to climb into a ring and try to die because I hurt you."
"I wasn't trying to die."
"Were you trying to live?"
I opened my mouth.
Nothing came out.
Caroline stood.
"That's what I thought."
"Don't analyze me."
"I'm not analyzing you. I'm asking you a question."
"You already decided the answer."
"Because Ghost watched you stop defending yourself!"
Her voice cracked.
"You let someone hit you after you could have moved."
I looked away.
"Why?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I need to understand!"
I laughed bitterly.
"Now you need to understand."
She flinched.
I hated myself.
Didn't take it back.
"Fine," she whispered.
She moved toward the door.
Panic hit me so fast I couldn't hide it.
"Where are you going?"
Caroline stopped.
The question hung there.
Too sharp.
Too immediate.
She turned slowly.
And I saw that she understood.
Not clinically.
Personally.
"I'm not leaving."
My pulse hammered.
"You walked toward the door."
"Because I thought you wanted space."
"I didn't say that."
"No."
She came back.
Sat down.
"I'm not leaving."
I stared at her.
"Don't promise shit you can't do."
Her face tightened.
"Then I won't promise forever."
That hurt.
It was also the first answer I believed completely.
"I'll promise today."
I looked at her.
"Today?"
"I'm here today."
Her voice steadied.
"If I need to leave the room, I tell you. If I need space, I tell you. If I'm scared, I tell you."
She swallowed.
"And tomorrow, if you'll let me, I choose it again."
Something inside me gave way.
Not healed.
Not fixed.
Just tired.
"I don't know how to live with what happened to me."
Caroline didn't move.
The words kept coming.
"The memories. The guilt. The feeling that I don't deserve to be alive when other people got hurt because of me."
My throat burned.
"I don't know how to carry that and also be a functioning person."
She listened.
No interruption.
"So I fight."
Her eyes closed briefly.
"I get hurt. And for a few hours, everything quiets down."
"You're not fighting to get stronger."
It wasn't a question.
"No."
"You're fighting because you believe you deserve punishment."
"Yeah."
"Because you believe you deserve pain."
I stared at the wall.
"I know I do."
Caroline inhaled sharply.
When I looked back, her expression was devastated.
Not professional concern.
Pain.
Mine reflected back at me.
"Stop."
Her voice cracked.
"Stop trying to die, Colt."
"I told you—"
"I know. You weren't trying to die."
She wiped angrily at her face.
"You just weren't trying very hard to live."
That shut me up.
"Stop punishing yourself for things you couldn't control. Stop believing pain is penance."
"Then what the fuck am I supposed to do with it?"
"Share it."
"With who?"
"Anyone who loves you."
"That's not an answer."
"Yes, it is."
She moved closer.
"With Ditch. Sweet. Doc. A therapist who isn't catastrophically compromised."
Despite myself, I barked out a laugh.
Pain exploded through my ribs.
"Fuck."
Caroline almost smiled.
Then her expression softened.
"With me."
The room went quiet.
I looked at her.
"That's dangerous."
"I know."
"You left."
"I know."
"Could happen again."
"Yes."
The answer cut.
I respected it.
Caroline reached toward my hand.
Stopped before touching me.
Waited.
I turned my palm over.
She took it.
Her fingers were shaking.
"Then give me something to live for."
The words came out quieter than I intended.