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We wave goodbye to Rita as she locks up. Kyle keeps his arm around me until he opens the car door, steps back to let me in. But as his eyes flick up, take in the passersby, I watch as his face falls apart. I turn and see a woman walking with her family. Long, strawberry blond hair like Diane's.
His grip on me loosens as I watch him fall to his knees, his arm slipping through my hands.
It feels like everything is moving in slow motion. He's watching her walk away as the tears slip down his face.
His head finds his hands and he leans forward, his forearms resting on the frozen ground. I kneel beside him, wrap my arms around him as he sobs, his body violently shaking and wracking as I try to soothe him.
"Shh," I tell him as I try to calm him down.
We stay that way for a while, him crying on the cold, damp black asphalt while I rub his back, tears streaming down my face as I watch him break down over the death of his mother.
I don't know what to do. What do I do for him? How do I help him?
He's always been the strong one. The one who doesn't break. It's me. I'm the one who's always needing him. Can I be what he really needs? Am I what he really needs?
Matt's words from the funeral echo through my head. I think he needs you to be the one who takes care of him. Keeps him safe. Locks him in a dark closet when he can't deal with what's going on.
Dark closet. Dark closet. Dark closet.
I slip a hand under his forearm, pull up. Reluctantly, he moves off the ground. I help him to the passenger seat of the SUV, wrap my arms around him once he's seated. The cold breeze slams against my back as I try to help him calm down.
"I love you. I love you. I love you," I tell Kyle. I just keep repeating it, hoping he comes back to me, hoping he knows I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere.
By the time his breathing slows, and his body is no longer twitching with grief, my fingers and nose and toes are freezing and I'm shivering violently.
I let him go as I step back, see the dazed look on his face. I quietly shut the door, take a moment to breathe before making my way around the car, to the driver's seat. Once inside, I turn the heat on full blast and wipe the frozen tears from my face, try to thaw my cold skin, ice coursing through my veins.
Kyle's leaning against the glass window when I look over at him, an arm over his eyes as his chest heaves up and down.
My phone starts ringing. I know it's Mom calling for the millionth time, wanting to know where we are.
I shift into reverse, pull out of the parking spot, shift into drive, slowly make my way home. I don't know if that's where I should be taking him. Should I take him home to Boulder?
What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?
I have no idea.
—
"So nice of you to finally join us," Mom whispers into my ear as she hugs me. I can hear everyone in the living room, their voices carrying through the house with the smell of Christmas dinner.
I plaster a smile on my face. "We got held up."
Mom pulls away from me, takes a sip of her wine, eyes me suspiciously. "Everything alright?"
I nod my head, wondering if she can see through the lie I'm about to tell. "Of course, Mom, everything's fine."
I want to believe that.
I really do.
I glance back at Kyle, see him run a hand through his hair as he takes a deep breath, hangs his jacket in the entryway closet. He won't look at me. Won't meet my eyes. Won't acknowledge what just happened.
I don't believe in omens, but as he walks past me, a cold breeze blows across the back of my neck, sending goosebumps down my spine.
"Kyle," I call after him.
He ignores me as he walks through the house, me trailing behind him. He pulls a beer out of the fridge, opens it, takes a long swig.
