Page 51 of Carry On (Love Doesn’t Cure All #4)

NASH

Lincoln returned to work, and I wandered. I couldn’t go back to his condo. I didn’t want four walls and fancy furniture. I didn’t need his stark prison of comfort.

I needed something familiar, someone who understood me. Someone who could get me out of my head for a little bit.

And so, I grabbed a to-go meal with the cash Lincoln insisted I take and sought out Jay. I knew most of his spots, which meant a lot of wandering around until I found him in a park. He sat there with a newspaper on his lap and a few pieces of bread to feed pigeons, of all things.

“You should keep some of that for yourself, Jay,” I commented as a way to announce my arrival. He just chuckled. Pigeons scattered when I waded through them to join him, but the minute I was settled on the bench, they came right back for more.

“Oh, drop the scowl, kid,” Jay said. “Pigeons are underrated and over-hated. Here.”

He handed me half a piece of bread.

“Feed some birds,” he ordered. “It’s good for the soul.”

“Here,” I countered and offered the meal I’d brought him. “Eat and I will—you eat it. Don’t feed it to the birds, old man.”

“Fine, fine,” Jay replied, accepting the offer more gracefully than I would’ve. He made a sound of appreciation as he took a bite of the sandwich. Around a mouthful, he said, “You look good, kid. I haven’t seen you around much.”

He’s not looking. No one is, the voice commented.

“Yeah, I just…”

I just… what?

Married a man I didn’t know to commit insurance fraud?

Had one moment of weakness where I thought I could actually do this? Where I could make my life better?

Did you honestly think you could? the voice asked.

I sighed.

“You got married,” Jay said, thankfully leaving my unfinished thought alone. He was good like that, good at just letting me say what I could and not pushing it any further.

“Yeah,” I replied. Glancing down at the ring, I turned it slowly and meticulously.

The thing cost more than anything I’d owned in years.

I knew Lincoln thought he’d slid that one past me—that I’d believe it was a fake ring—but I wasn’t that dumb.

I just didn’t have the heart to tell him.

He was so wrapped up in perfecting the images of what we were, and I couldn’t ruin that for him.

Can you blame him? One slip up and you’ll ruin his life, the voice reminded me. All that good… and you’ll ruin it like you ruin everything.

“The dark thoughts getting to you today?” Jay asked, his voice gentler than I deserved. Still, I anchored to it—grabbed onto it like a lifeline away from my own mind.

“Yeah.” I tore off a few pieces of bread and tossed them to the pigeons. Feeding pigeons was good. I could do that. That was enough. “How do you handle them?”

“For a long time I didn’t,” he told me. “I let them take just about everything from me.”

I knew that feeling all too well.

“What changed?”

“I had enough,” Jay said. “I told myself I wasn’t going to let them win. Not anymore.”

What was that like? I couldn’t imagine.

“How?”

“By talking.”

“To who?”

“Anyone who’d listen,” he replied.

No one wants to listen, the voice said over him. No one cares about what you have to say.

Lincoln cared.

They’re just words, the voice insisted.

At least, he said he did. I wanted to believe that he did.

“There are no heroes in the war you’re fighting, Nash.” Jay’s voice brought me right back out of the pending spiral again. “You have to save yourself. You have to want it for yourself.”

Except I was too tired to want it. Maybe some part of me did, but I was too damn tired to recognize that part of me. Too fucking tired to dig down deep and do it.

“You’ll be all right, kid,” Jay whispered. He patted my forearm and squeezed in some attempt to offer reassurance. “You’ll be all right.”