Page 30 of The Summer We Played Pretend

“They do.”

“And they love you too.”

She grimaces. “I know I’m lucky to have both of them. I’m sorry if I seem insensitive.”

I wave a hand. “It’s only ever been me and Dad. I don’t really know any different.” I take a deep breath. "But, you know, I kind of get it. In a way."

Chloe looks up at me. "What do you mean?"

"Well," I start, my voice a little rough, "growing up without a mom meant watching my dad struggle.” I draw in a deep breath. “It’s hard to love someone I didn’t even know, and sometimes, I resent her too.” I grimace at the admission. “I know it’s not her fault she got sick and died, but I get mad she didn’t fight harder, you know?”

"How do you cope?" she asks softly.

"Honestly? Not always well," I admit. "There’s a reason I had a bad rep when I was younger. I was pretty pissed off at Mom for leaving us.”

“I get it.”

“But I learned that it's okay to have bad days. It's okay to be angry or sad. What matters is that you don't let those feelings consume you."

Chloe nods, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I'm so sorry you’ve had to go through that, Jackson."

"Thanks," I say, my throat tight. "I just wanted you to know...you're not alone in this, okay?"

“Likewise,” she says, nudging me.

I sling an arm around her shoulders, telling myself it’s only because some of her friends are watching. It seems like the sort of thing a boyfriend would do.

And nothing to do with the fact all I want to do is hold her and take her pain away.

“Have you ever thought about talking to someone? You know, professionally?" Chloe's eyes widen slightly, and I quickly add, "Or even just someone you trust. It doesn't have to be a therapist. I'm here if you ever need to talk, day or night."

"I...I don't know, Jackson. It's not that simple." "I mean, my parents have enough on their plate.” She bites her lip, her gaze dropping to the sand. “I don’t know how I’d even tell them I wanted therapy. I think it would hurt them too much.”

"I get that," I say softly. "But Chloe, it's okay to need help sometimes.”

"But what if I make things worse? What if I'm just being selfish?"

“I know you’ve always tried not to add to your parents' struggles. But it's okay to ask for help, Chlo. Your parents are grown adults. They can handle it.”

Her chin wobbles, and a single tear escapes, rolling down her cheek. I swipe it away with my thumb, and she leans into my touch, making my breath stutter.

I hear her gulp down a breath. “I guess I never realized how much I keep to myself,” Chloe admits. “It always seemed simpler to be a good girl and solve my problems myself.”

“I’m certain your parents wouldn’t want that for you.”

“Probably.”

She shifts slightly toward me, and I can’t resist any longer. I draw her into a hug, wrapping my arms around her and enveloping her in my hold.

She feels so damned perfect there.

Eventually, she draws back and rubs the end of her nose. “I guess I’ll try to talk to Mom.”

“I think she’d appreciate it. She loves you and wouldn’t want you keeping things from her.”

She stills. “Ugh.”

“What’s up?”

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