Page 87 of The Silence Between

Ethan

Are you safe tonight?

Leo

Not going to do anything stupid, if that's what you're asking. Just tired of pretending I can do it all alone.

I stared at the ceiling until dawn, planning what resources I could bring, what support I could offer, how to be worthy of the trust he'd placed in me.

* * *

The early morningsun painted East Riverton in deceptively gentle light as I navigated the familiar route to Leo's apartment. In my passenger seat sat a cardboard tray with two coffees, a bag of still warm pastries from the bakery, and a folder containing financial documents, legal resources, and contact information I'd spent the pre dawn hours assembling.

Leo opened the door before I could knock, looking like he hadn't slept at all. The careful composure he typically maintained had abandoned him entirely: hair disheveled, eyes shadowed, shoulders carrying the visible weight of too many burdens for too long.

“The kids are still asleep,” he said quietly, stepping back to let me in. “Thank you for coming.”

“Always,” I replied, the simple word carrying more weight than I'd intended.

We settled at the small kitchen table, coffee and pastries between us like offerings to ward off the heaviness of what needed to be discussed. Leo's fingers wrapped around his mug, seeking warmth or perhaps just something solid to hold onto.

“I should explain about last night,” he began, eyes fixed on his coffee.

“You don't need to.”

“I do.” He looked up then, the raw honesty in his expression stealing my breath. “For ten years, I've handled everything alone because it felt safer. Depending on others meant risking disappointment, and my siblings couldn't afford for me to be wrong about who to trust.”

I nodded, giving him space to continue.

“Yesterday broke me,” he admitted. “Townsend's ambush. Miguel's call. Mari's college deposit deadline. It was too much at once, and I just... shattered. In front of the kids.”

“That's not breaking,” I said gently. “That's being human.”

His mouth twisted in a humorless smile. “Semantics when you're responsible for three lives.”

I opened the folder I'd brought, pulling out the documents inside. “Let's start with the practical stuff. For Mari's deposit, I can front the money until your scholarship funds come through. No arguments,” I added when he started to protest. “It's not charity, it's a temporary loan.”

For the next hour, we methodically worked through immediate concerns.

Gradually, as solutions began taking shape, I saw some of the tension ease from Leo's shoulders. Not completely, the weight he carried had become part of his physical being after so many years, but enough that he could take a full breath again.

“You're good at this,” he observed, gesturing to the organized plans we'd created. “The strategic thinking.”

“I've had practice navigating complex systems,” I acknowledged. “Just different ones than you.”

“Publishing industry politics?”

“And academic hierarchies. Family expectations. Depression.” The last word slipped out without planning, but I didn't try to take it back.

Leo's gaze sharpened. “Depression?”

I nodded, offering my own vulnerability in exchange for his. “For years. Even when I was outwardly successful, especially then. Empty achievements without meaning.”

“Is that why you came back to Riverton?”

The question cut straight to the heart of something I'd been avoiding naming directly, even to myself. I traced a finger along the grain of his wooden table, gathering courage.

“Partly,” I admitted. “I came back because nothing I accomplished meant anything anymore. But also because...” I hesitated, then committed to honesty. “Because there were unresolved questions about us. About how things ended.”

---