Page 65 of Songs for Libby

He was in the backyard again, not working this time, but just sitting on his little back porch with his guitar. He seemed to spend a lot of time there, probably using the privacy wall to keep away from prying eyes.

I went and opened my back door, but then I got stuck. He saw me standing there and his hands stilled on the strings as he raised a brow in question. But the invitation wouldn’t push past my lips, so I just stood aside, waiting to see if he would come in.

He did, and he brought his guitar with him. That almost made me smile.

I closed the door and turned to see him watching me as he leaned his guitar up against the back of the couch. “You invited me in.” He looked a little stunned.

“I just need to know. Why are you really here?”

His smile was the epitome of patience. “I’m here for you, Libby. I’m trying to be here for you, just like you were there for me. You were always there. You held my life together with two hands and sheer force of will. For years, you did that. And I”—he cast his eyes to the ceiling for a moment—“am in awe of that. I don’t know how you did it. I don’t know how you lasted that long. And then when you did leave me alone, you—my precious friend—didn’t actually leave me alone.” His head bobbed just a little as he nodded to himself. “You sent my mom back to me. The selflessness that must have taken isn’t something I can even comprehend. And I never got to thank you for any of that.”

I blinked, floored by the honesty and sincerity rolling off of him. “I couldn’t—” I sucked in a breath, trying not to lose it. “I couldn’t just leave you to drown. I couldn’t—”

“I know. And that’s what I’m trying to do, too. I don’t want you to drown, Libby. And your burden is so heavy that I’m afraid you will if you don’t have someone to hold you up.”

Did I need him for that? Was I not strong enough to do it myself?

“But what if—” I gulped.

“What if what?”

“What if you leave?” My voice shook.

“I won’t.”

Lies, my inner voice jumped up to say. “You have a job. You have a career. Your life is in New York, Sean. It’s not in North Carolina.”

“It is now.”

“You can’t promise that! What if you get too tired? What if it’s too much?”

His eyes went so soft, it took my breath away. “You’ll never be too much for me.”

I pressed my lower lip into my upper and blinked at the ceiling as I swallowed. He said that now, but he couldn’t know. “That’s what I thought too.”

I turned and walked away once again. A few moments later, I heard the door open and close, leaving my guilt to settle across my shoulders. A part of me hated that I was treating him this way, but it was what I had to do when it became too much. I said something to remind him of our broken past and then I turned my back on him. Because somehow feeling alone felt right. Jonas was gone, so wasn’t I supposed to feel alone and wretched? Accepting Sean, his friendship and his comfort felt like I was taking the easy way out. And I didn’t want the easy way out. I wanted Jonas. So I kept shoving Sean away.

And he just took it. He never fought back. He never took cheap shots at me. He just absorbed my blows, and I wondered at what point he would tire of being my punching bag.