58. Lolly
fifty-eight
Lolly
“Lani!” I scream. Hot liquid trails down my face as I try to break free.
It’s stuck.
She needs me and I’m stuck.
“Mom! Dad! Wake up!”
They can’t hear me.
Lani can’t hear me.
It’s too loud.
So much smoke.
I cough, trying not to get sick.
“Lolly,” Jay says soothingly. “Wake up, Lolly. It’s me, it’s Jay. You’re safe. You were dreaming. I’ve got you,” he says as he squeezes my shoulder.
His warm touch is grounding, pulling me from the memory as I claw my way back to reality.
I wipe the tears from my eyes and work to slow my breathing. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Smell the flowers, and blow out the candles.
“I’m sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse and trembling.
“Don’t you ever apologize, Lolly. You’d do the same for me and you know it.”
“Thanks,” I whisper.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for waking me.
Thank you for putting up with me.
Thank you for being you.
We sit in silence for a while, my heart rate and breathing finally returning to normal.
“Lol?”
“Yeah, man.”
“I know you care about him,” he pauses, “but I think you need to let him go. This isn’t good for you. He has some growing up to do, and you need time to heal.”
“I know,” I admit.
One more tear hits my pillow as my heart begs me to reconsider—but my mind insists that I protect our peace.