Page 138 of Carry On

Fuck, I would’ve rather had sunshine and rainbows. It’d give people something to talk about that wasn’t apologizing for my loss.

I squeezed my eyes shut, my head tipping back against the brick. I didn’t want to go inside. I didn’t want to say goodbye.

“Lincoln.”

I opened my eyes to find Dean leaning next to me and promptly squeezed them shut again. He said nothing and just stood there.

“I’m so…” I struggled to find the words. “I’m so mad.”

“That’s understandable,” he assured me.

“I’m mad at him,” I whispered. “I’m so fucking mad, Dean. I don’t understand… I’m trying to be understanding, but I don’t understand. I did everything I could to help him… why… why couldn’t he just tell me it was that bad?”

“Lincoln, you do understand that Nash taking his life wasn’t about you, don’t you?” he replied. “Do you understand—”

“I don’t understand, and it… it hurts,” I interjected. “Logically, I know it’s not about me. I know that he had his own battles, and that I couldn’t fight that war for him, but…”

But it hurt.

I was hurt.

Maybe it was selfish, considering everything he’d gone through, but I wanted to keep him. This? This felt unfair. He was gone while I was left here with a Nash-shaped hole in my chest, one that I wasn’t sure would ever heal. How could I know someone for such a short time and hurt this badly?

“I feel like an idiot,” I admitted. “It hasn’t been long enough… I shouldn’t love him this much.”

“Did you know that the human heart beats roughly a hundred thousand times a day?” Dean asked. The question made me frown. “I think we both can agree that’s a lot.”

“It is,” I agreed, confused as to where the hell he was going with this.

“All that’s to say, the heart’s entire job is to keep us alive,” he said. “We trust it to keep us alive. I think we owe it to our hearts not to underestimate their capacity to feel.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No. It’s just something I’ve been thinking about. What I’m trying to say is that sometimes, your heart knows better for you than you do. You loved him. A day, a week, a year, ten years… it doesn’t matter. Your heart knew that you loved him, and that’s all that matters, Lincoln.”

I pressed my lips together tightly, a lump rising in my throat as I desperately tried not to tear up. My heart did know.

“Fuck you,” I muttered, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle. I sniffled as I stared across the parking lot. “I miss him.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to do this.”

“Look at me, Lincoln.” He stepped in front of me and gave my shoulders a light squeeze. “You’re not doing this alone. I promise you that.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I hated being the kind of friend he felt he had to get through this kind of situation. “This wasn’t what you signed up for.”

“For the record, I signed up for group therapy and got you instead,” he retorted, and I scoffed. “It was a good trade-off.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Lincoln,” Dean said, “but it is time for us to go inside.”

“Five more minutes? Please?” It was pathetic to ask, but I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye yet.

“Five more minutes,” he agreed and settled against the wall next to me. We stared at the gloomy sky in silence as I worked up the nerve to go through with the funeral.

CHAPTER 91