Page 45 of Death, Interrupted
“You have them too,” I said, because the look on his face said it for him.
“Used to,” he corrected quickly. “Not like that now. I learned to catch them early, slow them down. Therapy, routines, boring stuff that works.”
“That’s good. I’m glad,” I said. And I meant it. I didn’t want him to carry it the way I did. He gave a small nod and a smile, telling me to continue.
I took a breath and pushed forward. “They started because of Joey. All the yelling, the times he put his hands on me. I learned to live as if anything could set him off, and my body never unlearned it. Even now, when I know he’s gone, it still flips to danger too fast. I get scared that it will happen again.”
He wasn’tgonegone. But he had lost his memory, and while it wasn’t nice of me to hope he would never regain his memory, it could still happen.
Sly kept his voice level. “It makes sense that you’re scared,” he said. “Your body was trained to expect harm. It takes time to teach it that the threat is gone.”
“I know,” I said. “But knowing doesn’t make the feeling stop. Sometimes I feel ashamed, like I should be past this by now. I get frustrated with myself for not being stronger.”
He shook his head. “That’s not fair to you. Strength doesn’t have a deadline, and from what I’ve seen, you’re a stronger person than most. You’re fighting, and just because you get vulnerable, doesn’t mean you don’t have the strength.”
I let that sit. “He’s not gone,” I added, because it was the truth that just didn’t stop echoing in my mind. “He doesn’t remember me now, which should feel like relief, but it’s complicated. If his memory comes back someday, if the man he was comes back too, I don’t know what I’ll do.”
He looked at me straight then, the first time tonight his face sharpened, but not in an angry way. “You don’t have to think that far ahead tonight. For now, we put plans in place that keep you safe. You asked for that earlier when you asked for help. We start there and we build. That is, if you still want me to come around.”
I quickly nodded. “I want you to.”
“Okay,” he said, his pretty smile coming back. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
I let the words rest between us, and for the first time since the panic had taken me down, I felt a small part of my chest stop clenching. It wasn’t gone, but it was quieter. And that was enough for tonight.
Chapter 16
Sly
When we couldn’t pick a movie to watch, I half-jokingly suggested showing her some of my old videos instead. It was the kind of idea that normally would’ve gotten a polite laugh or a no, but she immediately nodded, pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders, and told me to show her my most liked one.
I scrolled through my feed on her TV screen, suddenly aware of how much of me was in those videos, even if nobody ever saw my face.Luckily, the one she asked for was, in fact, one of the funny ones. Chaotic gameplay, dumb commentary, and a few near-death moments that had turned into running jokes in my community. Within minutes, she was laughing, with her head thrown back in her neck, and her hands covering her mouth in the most adorable way.
I couldn’t stop watching her. She sat curled in the same spot on the couch, knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them under the blanket. Her eyes stayed fixed on the screen, but I kept my eyes on her face instead. Every shift in her expression, every small smile, every flicker of amusement made me want to memorize it. Her smiles still carried a trace of sadness, but they were there. And when she was with me, they were there more often. That mattered.
When my past self on the screen jumped and swore after a scare in some horror game, Sumner snorted and clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to hold it in. Her eyes slid to mine, bright with amusement, and I couldn’t help grinning back at her.
“You like seeing me get hurt or scared, huh?” I teased.
Her hand dropped, and she tilted her head, trying to hide a smirk behind pressed lips. “It’s funny. You’re funny. I get why so many people like watching you. And it’s…difficult, what you do.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How’s it difficult?”
She shifted, her voice soft but certain. “Nobody sees your face. You’re this expressive, you make people laugh, you keep them engaged without showing them the one thing most people rely on. That’s not easy.”
I blinked, caught off guard. I’d never really thought about it like that. In my head, the helmet turned me into a character. It made me anonymous, not quite real, like a voice in a video rather than a person. I wanted it that way. But hearing her call it difficult and hearing her say it like I was more than a persona, hit differently.
She saw Sly, and not just a helmet-wearing, chaotic streamer.
I smiled gently. “I’m just being myself,” I said.
And sitting there next to her, watching her laugh at me while I tried to make sense of why her words meant so much, I realized I’d never wanted to be seen more than I did right then.
“And that’s a good thing,” she said, voice softer now. “And I have to say…”
She paused, and I lost track of anything else for a second. I watched her breathe in and out as she tried to steady herself. “I like having you around because of that. Because you don’t change. You’re true to yourself.”
Her words landed hard in my chest and warmed it instantly. I’d braced for so many reactions in the past, leading me never to want to open up to anyone, and hearing something so simple and honest felt almost dangerous, in a good way.