than anyone else. They all had shit to deal with. He wasn’t special.
“Thanks, Master Chief,” Geo managed. He paused. “Am I, uh, still getting on the plane?”
Alex nodded as he clapped him on the shoulder. “You’d better be on that fuckin’ plane. See you in a few hours.”
After he’d driven off, Geo leaned against the bed of his truck, hands stuffed in his pockets. He shivered in the cool night air, jaw throbbing, his head aching from the effects of too much alcohol and too little sleep. God, what a fucking mess.
Tilting his head back, he stared at the predawn sky. His life choices really sucked ass. If he’d accepted Lani’s invitation, none of this would be happening. Instead, he was hung over, beat up and lurking in a deserted parking lot at four in the morning.
At least the bar had declined to press charges, since there hadn’t been any damage done and he’d been the only one injured. He reached up to probe the bruise on his jaw, wincing in both pain and shame.
Tonight he’d acted like the worst kind of thug, accosting and intimidating someone who clearly wasn’t a threat. A douche and a liar, for sure, but not a threat. In that moment, with his anger raging out of control, he’d thought it okay to set Tariq’s safety aside in order to “expose” an asshole and “save” a woman who hadn’t asked to be saved.
All because he’d been looking for a fight. Any fight.
I’m sorry, Tariq. I’m sorry, Lani.
On a tidal wave of remorse, Geo texted them both. He stuck his phone in his pocket not expecting any reply, and when it buzzed loudly, it startled him so much he jumped. Heart pounding, he pulled it back out and stared at the screen.
Believe me, I’ve my share of ambush moments. No apology necessary.
Geo pinched the bridge of his nose, Lani’s gentle understanding making his tired eyes burn. Then he sucked in a deep breath and typed, I don’t know how to deal with them. How the fuck do you deal with them?
A pause. By letting them happen. There’s no cure, no way to avoid them, so instead of seeing them as something to run from, I’m learning how to just let them happen.
“Goddammit,” Geo ground out, suddenly wishing he hadn’t started this. He didn’t want to let them happen, he wanted them to leave him alone, to stop making him angry, to stop hurting.
Before he could figure out a way to put a breezy end to the conversation, his phone buzzed again. Since Tyler’s death, even the smell of hot chocolate makes me cry. The other day I was getting a tea at Starbucks when the girl in front of me ordered some. I immediately teared up, and then it hit me. What if my child wants it someday? Am I going to cry every time? Refuse to make it? Fall apart? So I made myself stay in line, made myself smell it. Made myself remember.
A giant fist squeezed his chest.
Tyler fixed it so carefully that day, just the way I liked it. That whole last hour of his life, even as he planned to end it, he took care of me. He made sure I felt loved, and with that hot chocolate, he was also saying goodbye.
A ragged sob escaped from his lips, a single tear tracking its way down his cheek. “Dammit, asshole,” he berated himself, dashing the back of his hand over his face. “You will not do this.”
Choosing to see hot chocolate as love instead of the precursor to horror is helping me and honoring my brother. Does that make sense?
Geo wanted to reply, but his fingers were shaking so badly he couldn’t type. He was about to put his phone away when it buzzed one last time. I know it’s not easy. I know I’m at a different point in my grief journey than you are, but if you want to talk, I’m here, okay? Always.
Lani followed up the text with a heart emoji, and a sudden warmth cut through Geo’s numbness. Thank you.
He slipped his phone in his pocket and swung up into the truck, then dropped his forehead to the steering wheel. Fuck. Once again, he’d managed to spew all over this amazing woman he was coming to admire more and more each day.
With a long exhale, he sat up to turn on the engine. He did have to admit he felt better, though, stronger, less brittle, as if a