Walk Of Shame(40)

His body starts shaking as he looks back down at the ground and breaks down. He’s crying so hard that I can’t help the moisture building up in the corner of my eyes just from watching him. My heart aches for him. He’s been holding all this pain in. That’s not healthy for anyone. Not to mention the fact that he blames himself. No one should have to bear that pain.

I stand up and walk over to stand in front of him, but he doesn’t look up from the ground. He just takes a quick drag and exhales. “The car killed her on impact; broke her neck. Dammit! All it did was throw me around a little.” He brushes his fingers over the scar on his face. “I still remember holding her until the ambulance came. It felt like forever before they got there. I knew she wasn’t breathing, but I . . . I just kept on yelling at her to hold on; that her and Hailey were going to be okay, but the blood . . . it was everywhere. Her seat was soaked in it, but I never let myself believe that Hailey wouldn’t be born. I refused to give up hope.”

He stops and chokes back a sob before whispering, “My life ended that night, along with theirs.”

Without thinking, I drop down on my knees in front of him and place my hands on his arms, but he jerks away. I grab his arms again and pull them away from his face. He looks up at me through wet lashes while dropping his cigarette and putting it out with his knee. “You can’t blame yourself for that night, Slade. Please, stop blaming yourself. You did everything you could to take care of them.”

His nostrils flare and his jaw muscles flex as tears roll down his blotchy face. His eyes are distant and his whole body is shaking under my touch. His pain is too much to handle. All I want to do is help ease it.

I grab his face and rub my thumb over his scar as a tear slides down my cheek. He still hasn’t said another word. He just looks numb now; dead inside. He’s staring at me as if he’s a bit surprised by my comforting him. “It’s okay for you to talk about it. It’s okay to let it out and ask for help to carry some of the burden. Let me help you.” He starts shaking his head as he closes his eyes, tears still falling. “I know you miss them. That is nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing at all. Okay, dammit? The world should know how much you love them. Don’t let the memory of your family die out because you’re too afraid to talk about it; to remember. You shouldn’t live life that way.”

He clears his throat and looks blankly at the wall across from him. “Every day is a struggle for me to get by. Just the thought of losing them takes the breath right from my fucking lungs. It hurts so fucking bad. I never thought a day would go by that I wouldn’t have Helena by my side. We spent every day together. Even as kids. It’s not easy to just move on with life after losing the biggest part of you; like losing a vital organ. After that day, I just shut down. I gave up. Every day I feel like I’m fucking dying, over and over again. I can’t fucking breathe, Aspen. I can’t.”

Feeling my heart break for him, I wrap my arms around him and pull him to me as tightly as I can. To my surprise he doesn’t push me away. Instead he snuggles his face into my neck and wraps his arms around my head, letting the tears fall. So, I sit here and hold him for a while until the tears stop. It feels like forever, but I refuse to let him go. He needs someone. All of this pain has been consuming him and he’s been living his life by numbing himself to the world; getting out of his own head.

Quite a bit of time passes, but finally, he pulls away from me and stands up. He doesn’t even bother with wiping his face off. He just lets the last tear fall; unashamed. “You should get some rest, Aspen.” He looks me in the eyes for a moment before picking me up and walking over to his bed. He stops in front of it and gently places me atop the mattress. “It’s really late. Cale should be home soon. You can just crash in here.”

He takes a seat at the edge of the bed and places his face back in his hands while yawning. I sit up and crawl over to him to place my hand on his shoulder. It’s tense and he’s still slightly shaking. “You should get some rest too. I am fine on the couch.” I swallow hard while looking at his solid muscles though his snug shirt. They keep flexing as if he’s struggling with something; as if he’s fighting frustration. “I can stay if you need me to, though.”

He turns around, wraps his arm around my waist and pulls me to him before laying back on the mattress. He gently brushes my hair away from my neck and snuggles up against me with his face against the side of my neck. His breathing is soft and warm against my flesh. It gives me goose bumps. “I need you to,” he whispers.