Page 11 of Always You (Guardian Hall #1)

Chapter Eleven

JAZZ

I don’t need you. And you don’t need me.

What a freaking liar! I needed Alex in ways I couldn’t begin to explain. I was desperate to return to that last summer when we still loved each other before money became more important to him than me. Before he told me he felt nothing for me.

And needing him fucking sucked because I’d always love him, and I couldn’t do anything with that.

I couldn’t believe I’d laid myself bare like that in the group meeting. The words had tumbled out, a tidal wave of confessions and memories I hadn’t admitted to myself until that moment. Each revelation felt like shedding a layer of skin, leaving me raw and exposed, and through all of it, I was facing Alex, and he’d seen what I’d become.

So, I’d told him I didn’t need him.

I’d lied.

I wanted to be friends again. But if I did that, then I would drag the man he’d become down to my level, and I would destroy him. How could I let him be anything more when I didn’t sleep because of nightmares, and those same nightmares chased me into the daylight?

I’m doing the right thing when I tell him I need him to stay away from what I am now.

Right?

Only he’d stared at me as if I’d stabbed him in the chest, with his guilty expression and his bright eyes.

When I returned to my room, the aftermath of my openness hit me hard. I felt lightheaded as if speaking my truth had physically drained me, and exhaustion enveloped me like a thick blanket. Glancing at the clock, I realized I was running out of time, with less than an hour before Marcus expected me in the medical room. The thought alone was enough to make my head spin.

Then, there was the skills session this afternoon with the careers advisor, a lady called Greta. The idea of sitting down, discussing prospects and deciding about a life I was still trying to piece back together felt premature. How was I supposed to plot a course forward when I was still navigating the past?

To top it all off, I was scheduled for dinner duty in the kitchen. The last thing I needed was to face others and function in a team when I felt I was barely holding myself together.

It was all too much.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, I tried to take deep breaths, to steady the spinning room and quell the rising panic. “One thing at a time,” I whispered to myself, a mantra I wasn’t sure I believed. First, Marcus and the medical room. I could handle that. Marcus had always been straightforward, quiet, and undemanding, and he was just checking my skin and the chest infection.

“I can do that.”

But the careers session, the decisions about a future I couldn’t imagine, and the kitchen duty with its demands on my already depleted reserves of energy and sociability were something else.

I dreaded them.

I stood up, pacing the small space of my room, trying to shake off the fatigue and gather my thoughts. I had to focus on the immediate, to navigate this day step-by-step, even if the prospect of what lay beyond was enough to send me spiraling.

As the minutes ticked by, bringing me closer to my appointment with Marcus, I had to be strong.

With a deep, steadying breath, I set my shoulders and counted down the time left, and the knock on the door jolted me, gave my thoughts a hard shove, when I was trying to center myself.

“Who is it?” I called out.

“Me. I mean, Alex.”

Fuck. Fuck.

“Go away,” I called back, harsher than I intended. Underneath the command, there was a plea for space, for a moment to gather myself.

There was a pause, and then, Alex was persistent and gentle again. “I was hoping we could talk?”

Talk . That word seemed simple, yet it held so much significance. Did I have the energy or courage for this?

“No,” I replied.

“I just… I miss my friend.” His sadness was audible through the door.

I stood there, a hand pressed to the wood separating us, feeling a lifetime of memories press back. Alex had been my confidant, my partner in crime, the one who knew me best—until it all fell apart.

“You don’t need a friend,” I mumbled.

“Did you say something?” he asked. “Jazz?”

“You don’t need a friend,” I repeated a little louder.

“Can I… look, can I just step inside? I wanted to… I need…”

“It’s not about what you need, Alex. None of this is.”

There was the longest pause, and I slid down the door to rest my back against it.

“I know,” he said at last, and I heard movement. “I need to get some posters up on the community wall. There’s a new placement with an animal shelter if you are interested. I mean, I know you had Ben when you were little, and thought you might like first shot?”

Ben. God, that took me back. A black lab, gray-muzzled by the time he passed at fourteen, a fiend for finding food everywhere, gentle, round, and an enormous teddy bear.

“I missed Ben when he went,” I blurted, wishing I could recall the words when I heard another sigh.

“I missed him, too. I loved that old softie.”

Silence, and then, more movement and a scuffle as something got pushed under the door. I moved as though Alex had shoved in a hand grenade, but it was a flyer with a picture of a sleeping puppy and two tiny kittens, and the words Guardian Animal Shelter . Was this something to do with Guardian Hall, or was that name a coincidence?

“It’s a good place, offers vocational skills, is friendly, and has so many animals. I love it there,” Alex said, then he cleared his throat. “I’ll be at the community board if you have questions, but I know you’re seeing Greta later, and you could mention this to her when she talks about work placements. No pressure. None at all.”

Words failed me, and I heard him walking away. I picked up the flyer and read the brief details: four hours a day, volunteering, with scope for more hours, and working toward a recognized qualification.

Animals.

I could do that.

I folded the flyer and put it into my pocket, then headed out to see Marcus, only somehow unbidden, I took a left and ended up by the community board, seeing Alex on a stepstool reaching the top of the board and moving labels around. He hadn’t heard me approach, and when I cleared my throat, he stumbled and nearly fell. I gripped his arm, but he’d already stabilized himself, so I released my hold. He stared at me.

I stared back.

Then, I checked the board under placements and scanned what else was there. Nothing spoke to me like the animal sanctuary. After all this time, he’d remembered that about me. Then, I scanned a little further and saw the ad for a visiting barber, with a note that all I had to do was head to the kitchen on Tuesday at ten and I could get a haircut and maybe…

I tugged my beard, which was still unruly despite me hacking at it. Harper had mentioned visiting soon, and maybe I needed to get the beard and hair fixed before seeing my daughter. I didn’t want to scare her—I was determined to be dad again.

“I like the beard,” Alex murmured.

I side-eyed him. Alex had stubble, but it didn’t look styled and deliberate, a little patchy. I guess I’d gotten all the beard-growing mojo.

“Thank you.” What else could I say? He’d complimented me, and in polite society, a man says thank you in return.

“How are the hands?” he asked.

I turned my palm up so he could see. There were faint pink patches now, but no infection, and my skin had become soft from the shower products. I felt soft. As if being here was scraping away my hard layers. That was a scary thought—what if everything got stripped and left my heart exposed?

“They’re good,” I said.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said after another long pause.

“About what?”

“The friend thing. I need friends. I’m sorry?—”

“Jazz! Hey, you ready?” Marcus interrupted, staring at Alex, me, and back again.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.”

I followed Marcus into the medical room, and when the door shut on Alex outside, I felt the restriction in my breathing ease.

I miss him being my friend, but it was selfish to want him back.

I miss Alex.