A Simple Wish About love - Karice Bolton Page 0,29

his brother, but he wasn’t exactly sure how to do that. He could go talk to a therapist. He wasn’t really sure what to say. He was sad his brother died. He felt guilty that he was being lazy and his brother ran the errand that Slade should have run.

Slade let out a shaky breath and glanced at his office building. He already knew what his problems were. He didn’t really need someone else spelling them out for him.

He climbed out of his Rover and walked toward the building. The receptionist hadn’t come in yet, and by the looks of it, most of his staff hadn’t made it in. It was nice to have space to himself for however long that might last.

He wandered the floor, noticing employees’ desks, the pictures they had on them, and the little knickknacks placed around to make their office feel more like home.

Slade and Lucas built this business from nothing, and now it was thriving. It had made him happy for years.

Now, he didn’t know what happiness was, but he thought he was getting a taste of it again around Erika.

He cleared his throat and strode toward his office, flipping on the lights and closing the door.

It didn’t take long before he had his computer on and answered all the emails waiting in his inbox before Charlotte came wandering into his office.

“You’re here early. Like old times.” She smiled and held up a coffee mug. “I brought you this.”

“Thanks.” Slade smiled. “Maybe that’s why I’m still not awake.”

She smiled and brought over the coffee. “Is everything okay?”

Slade sat back in his chair and grinned. “Define ‘okay’.”

“That’s what I thought.” She nodded sympathetically. “Have you thought about talking to someone?”

Slade shrugged. “What’s there to say?”

“Probably more than you realize.”

Slade nodded in agreement.

“Your mom called yesterday after you left. Said she’d left you a couple of messages since the weekend.”

“That is true.”

“So, I take it you haven’t called her back?”

Slade steepled his hands and blew out a deep breath. “Hearing the pain in her voice kills me, Char. It kills me.”

“Imagine how she must feel, not only losing one son, but two.” Charlotte turned on her heel and let herself out of the office.

Instead of immediately calling his parents, he stared at his monitor and switched over to check out Erika’s profile. She was one of the few people he could talk to without feeling judged. She had no skin in the game. He glanced at the time.

She should be up at the house, probably already dropped Scott off at school.

Slade drew a deep breath and messaged her.

How are you?

She quickly wrote back.

I’m still unsure as to why they are so determined to start school so early for these kids, and next year in junior high, it will be even worse. The short answer to your question is that I’m tired. How are you?

Slade smiled. He could hear her voice as he read her message, and it brought the peace he’d been hoping.

He typed back.

I’m not tired, but I’m feeling extremely guilty.

She wrote back quickly.

Over Penny? You didn’t do anything wrong. Unless you did something you didn’t tell me about besides ignoring her messages.

Slade chuckled and shook his head as he wrote.

No. I still don’t feel guilty over Penny. I feel bad about not reaching out to my parents. I just don’t talk to them as much as I used to since my brother’s death. I feel bad about it.

She wrote back.

Sometimes, the right thing to do isn’t the easy thing to do . . . but maybe if you start practicing again and get into the habit of reaching out to them again, you’ll be okay. Maybe they’ll be okay. And your new normal won’t be wrapped in the sorrow it is today.

He read her words and let out a wistful sigh. How did she always have the right thing to say to him? She didn’t belittle him for being an awful son. Instead, she offered a solution. She was so refreshing.

Slade tapped his finger on the mouse before he started typing again.

Thanks. You always know how to talk me off the ledge.

She quickly responded.

I’d like to think you’re never on the ledge.

He let out a slow breath. Should he tell her how he lost it in his brother’s car? It wasn’t like they were dating. He wasn’t trying to impress her.

They were friends.

Slade started typing and couldn’t stop.

I’ve been hanging by a thread since my brother died. Guilt carries me into the night and