Page 229 of Bend

Not gracefully or quietly.

She just caves forward and I catch her before she hits the floor, pulling her into me while the first real sob tears out of her.

I hold her tighter.

“I know, pretty girl.”

“I’m so fucking angry.”

“I know.”

“At him.”

My chest tightens and she pulls back just enough to look at me, like she needs me to understand how fucked-up that makes her feel.

“I obviously know it wasn’t his fault. I know that. But I’m still angry he left. I’m angry that he’s not here. That I finally found something that felt like home and he became part of it and then he just—”

Her mouth twists.

“Left”

I brush my hand over the back of her neck.

“You’re allowed to be angry.”

She shakes her head.

“I’m tired of missing him this much, and I don’t want to stop missing him either.”

That one I understand too fucking well.

“You won’t.”

Her eyes lift to mine.

I take a breath before I keep going.

“I don’t think that part goes anywhere. I think eventually it just stops owning every second.”

She studies me like she’s trying to decide whether I actually believe that.

Truth is, I don’t know.

I just need to believe it.

For her and Thorne.

For me.

Echo looks back down at our hands, her thumb moving slowly over my knuckles.

“When my mom died, I thought I knew what grief was going to feel like.”

I stay quiet.

“She was sick for a while. I knew it was coming.” Her voice gets softer. “You’re never ready to lose someone, obviously. There’s no version of that where you’re like, cool, totally prepared for this person to disappear forever. But with her, I had time to get closer to ready. As close as anyone probably can.”

Her fingers tighten around mine.