Page 108 of Summer Holiday Lifeline

“You have to feel it, babe.”

“It’s too much.”

“I promise you, it’s not.”

“I miss her.”

“I know.”

“Stupid. I ignored her so much of our lives.”

“Doesn’t mean you didn’t love her.”

“I missed most of their lives.” He shuddered, and a pained noise leaked out of him.

God, Steven couldn’t hold him tight enough. He was coming apart in his arms, but he hung on, kissing his neck and tightening his fingers in Myles’s already painful grip. “You won’t miss any more,” he reminded him.

“What if I can’t… do…”

“You can.” Freeing his hand with some difficulty, Steven gripped his shoulder and yanked Myles onto his back so he could see his face. “You can. You are.”

Instead of looking at Steven, Myles curled into him, buried his face against Steven’s chest, and shook.

The sobs came a moment later.

Steven slung a leg over Myles’s and wrapped an arm around his waist. It was quite possibly the most uncomfortable position ever, but he hung on. He could only rub Myles’s back and wait.

The sleep Steven had expected came to Myles eventually, and without Myles saying anything else. The emotional roller coaster of the day finally dumped him into a dead-to-the-world rest he’d probably been needing for months.

Steven lay awake watching over him until the grey of an overcast morning seeped into the room.

He was sitting up in bed texting with Stephanie when Myles finally stirred.

“You’re still here.” Myles gazed up at him, bleary and a bit puffy from his ordeal.

“You really thought I wouldn’t be?”

“Your house, though.” Myles struggled up to lean on the headboard next to Steven. He groaned through flexing his hip enough to assume the sitting position.

Steven held up his phone to show the text stream. “Steph’s there. She’s packing.”

“Packing?”

“She bought her little house over on Riverbend. It’s tiny, but suits her perfectly.”

“You’re not going to miss her?”

“It’s a five-minute walk, so I doubt it.” He grinned. “She’s over the moon about it.”

“Good for her.”

“How are you?”

Myles side-eyed him.

“Sleep well?” He blinked, as if he could pull off an innocent, nothing-happened-if-you-don’t-want-to-talk-about-it look.

Myles studied the tape and gauze over his knuckles long enough Steven wondered if he was going to answer. Finally, he scrubbed both hands over his face and heaved out a breath. “I haven’t cried myself to sleep since I was Jet’s age.”