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“Shit, Brawley, I’m so sorry. Everyone has been so focused on me and Vero that we haven’t made sure you were okay.”

“I’m fine.”

“Don’t lie. You don’t need to be strong all the time and deflect.” Her brows furrow.

I hate how she can see right through me. But I have to be strong, especially for Vero when he is building himself back up. And now I have her to worry about as well.

“Talk to me. I know you want to protect me, and though I love that, I’m here for you as well, even if it’s only emotionally.” Her voice is gentle as she tries to persuade me to share.

“When we opened the coffin, I thought you were dead,” I finally say.

She goes still, and I wonder if she can handle this conversation. I decide since I’ve started, I may as well let it all spill out. Maybe it will help me sleep.

“The time it took between when we got the lid up and knowing you were breathing felt longer than it was—seconds felt like hours. My first thoughts were how to tell Vero, whether telling him would finish him or change him. Thinking of a world without you in it was . . .” I have to take a deep breath. “But you were breathing.”

Kayla reaches over and takes my hand, turning it over and staring at my knuckles, which are bruised from punching a tree. It wasn’t my finest moment, but frustration got the better of me.

“I keep thinking,” I say, “that if we were a little later, you would have been gone before we got there. We would have lost you, and when Vero found out, I would have lost him, even if it was just to his mind. That’s the part I keep replaying over and over.”

“Brawley . . .” she whispers.

“I can handle a lot of things, but I can’t replay those few days ever again. Not knowing if you were alive, or where he was.” I make eye contact with her. “I can handle losing almost anything, but not the two of you.”

Her eyes gloss over, but it was never my intention to make her cry. “I know what you and Clay did—I don’t need you to confirm it, but I need you to know that I know. Deep down, I think I should feel a certain way about it, but I don’t. I feel . . .”

She tapers off, and I answer for her. “Relieved.”

“Yes,” she replies quietly.

“I’m glad. I have never once said I was a good person—I know I’m not. And I never want you to be afraid of me. He deserved everything he got. I’m not one to start something, but I will finish it. No one will hurt you on my watch.”

She nods, shifting down a step to sit between my legs and lean her body back against mine. I wrap my arms around her as she snuggles into my warmth.

Clearing my throat, I continue. “When Vero woke up after the first episode I ever saw, he looked at me and apologized. I spent a year after that making sure he never said it again, trying to make sure the situation never got far enough that he came back to a mess.”

“That’s why you hold everything in,” she muses aloud.

“It’s easier if it’s just one of us spiraling.”

“Easier for who?” she throws back at me. “I can see it and have since I first came here. You carry the weight for all of them, even Vesper.” She turns her head slightly so she can look up at me. “You’re allowed to put some of it down.”

“I don’t know how to do that.”

“You have me now, so let me carry some of it with you. Relationships of any kind are all about give and take. If you are running at twenty percent, tell me and I will function at eighty. You’re not in this alone anymore.”

I rest my chin on the top of her head as I look out at the cliff and the faint line of the water. Kayla shifts, and I whisper, “Don’t go in yet. I just need to hold you a little longer.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“I want you to stay here permanently . . . I need you to stay,” I admit.

“Good, because I don’t want to be anywhere else.”

We sit for a while longer, then when she yawns, I help her up and we head inside. I lead her upstairs, bypassing my room, as I refuse to wake Vero up—and right now I need her strength. When we reach her door, I open it and let her walk in first, closing it quietly behind us.

She reaches up and places her hands on either side of my face. “I’ve got you.”

Kayla pushes up on her tiptoes and pulls my face down to meet hers, pressing her lips against mine. The kiss isn’t rushed; she’s showing me she’s here, however I need.