Page 96 of Midnight Between Us
“I left because I thought I was protecting her.”My throat burns.“But really ...I was just fucking up everyone’s lives.”
Atlas exhales, long and even.“We all ran.In our own ways.Don’t make the mistake of thinking yours was special just because it hurtyoumore.”
I nod once, more to myself than to him.“I didn’t just run.I vanished.I broke her.”
“No,” he says, firm.“Life broke her.You just didn’t stay to help her pick the pieces because you were just as shattered as her.”
The words hit me in the gut like cold water over a burn.My gaze drops to the box of letters by the chair.I’ve barely made it halfway.
“She told me to finish them.”
“Then finish them.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
Atlas’s brow arches.“You’re a grown man.You’re in a fucking climate-controlled library, probably ten feet from a charcuterie board, and you’re afraid of reading paper?”
I almost laugh.It stirs something beneath my ribs—half pain, half incredulity.“What if this can be done differently?”I ask because maybe he can help me.
“Different, how?”
“What if I leave this house and Birchwood Springs so I can get help?”I touch my temple.“This isn’t what I want him to see if he ever meets me.This isn’t who I want to be while I try to get to know her and convince her to give me a chance.”
He doesn’t answer right away.Just studies me like he’s measuring something beneath the surface.
“If you want to change everything, it shouldn’t be for her.Not even for him.”He narrows his gaze.“Do it for you, so when the time comes, you don’t have to pretend you became someone better.So you actually are someone you’re proud of.”
And that makes sense.I have to fix myself because I want to stop being that man who believes he’s some kind of monster who has to stay away from everyone to save them.It didn’t save Simone or anyone around me.
“I think you need to stop pretending that pain is the price of love.That it has to hurt to mean something,” Atlas says, and I hate that I don’t have the energy to argue.Mostly because he’s right.And I’ve run out of ways to convince myself otherwise.
“No more pretending,” I mutter, the words like splinters in my throat.
Atlas tilts his head.“You love her?”
“Yes.”I don’t even flinch.“After all these years, I still fucking do.”
He drags a hand down his face, like he’s not surprised but still annoyed at the confirmation.“Gil’s gonna lose his shit,”he says.“But if we play the family card, he’ll find you the perfect place.”
“I owe you.”
He shakes his head.“You don’t.You’ll pay it forward.Someone did the same for me once—back in college.I was a disaster, too.Maybe worse.”
My mouth lifts at that, barely.“Hard to imagine worse than this.”
“Oh, it gets worse.But the good news is, it’s never too late to fix your shit.You just have to want the fix more than you want the excuse.”
I sit with that, chewing on it like it’s got edges.
“Is she going to be okay if I leave?”I ask, trying not to sound desperate.But the truth is, I’m not ready to be the reason she loses her job.
Atlas shrugs like it’s obvious.“Yeah.Might actually do her some good.Give her a break from having to walk around your ugly mug.”
I snort, but it’s rough at the edges.“Asshole.”
“Truth-teller,” he counters.Then adds, “Go get ready.If he says yes, you might have to leave immediately.Come back when you’re not just another scar she has to carry.”
That one lands.
