Page 7 of That Rush

“Eventually.”

“You changed before the accident.”

I look at him. “Does that make any difference now?”

“It made a difference to Krista. It made a difference to Josie.”

My throat burns. I turn toward the yard because looking at him is harder.

It took a year of learning how to talk about Josie without it turning into a fight. She called when Josie lost a tooth or had trouble at school. She sent pictures without making me ask. I learned to listen instead of treating every concern like an accusation.

A week before the accident, she laughed during one of our calls. A real laugh, easy and familiar. I hadn’t realized how long it had been since I heard it.

“We finally trusted each other again,” I say. “She trusted me with Josie.”

Axel’s shoulder presses lightly against mine. “She didn’t give you more time because you forced her.”

“I asked.”

“And she agreed.”

“Because I kept pushing for a life here.”

“You kept showing her you could be present.”

I shake my head. “If I had stayed in Texas, she would still be alive.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I know she wouldn’t have been driving to Colorado.”

Axel looks down at his clasped hands. “I can’t give you an answer that makes that stop hurting.”

“Good, because I don’t want one.”

“I know.”

The tension drains from my shoulders.

He doesn’t tell me everything happens for a reason. He doesn’t insist Krista would forgive me or that I should forgive myself. Three days is too soon for any of that. It feels too soon to breathe without wondering why Krista can’t.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I admit. “Josie wakes up looking for her. She asks me questions, and every answer hurts her. I’m supposed to make her feel safe, but I’m the reason her life was changing in the first place.”

“Then deal with today.”

I turn to him.

“Feed her. Hold her. Let her ask the same question ten times if she needs to.” Axel reaches down and turns my abandoned mug by the handle. “She doesn’t need you to fix what happened. She needs you to stay.”

The edges of my vision blur, and I blink hard against the heat.

“I was supposed to show Krista that too.”

“You did.”

“Too late.”

The words break as they leave me.