"You were just stuck," he says, rubbing my back. "You were unable to move forward because you wouldn't let anyone help you. But now that you are, it'll get better. I promise you, it won't always hurt this much."
Normally, I'd try to hide my tears but I don't this time. I trust Nash to see this side of me. The broken-down, vulnerable side that is finally admitting she needs help. And I want Nash to be the one to help me. Whether we're neighbors, friends, or more than that, I need him. I need him to help me get through this.
He continues to rub my back, telling me it'll be okay, and holding me close. And eventually, my crying slows to the point that I can talk again.
I lift my head up to Nash. "Can I tell you about them?"
He kisses my forehead. "I'd love for you to tell me about them." He picks up the remote and turns the TV off.
I remain tucked in his arms and start by telling him about my mom. I'm not sure why I'm telling him this. It's hard to talk about her and I find myself tearing up, remembering certain things. But as the words come out, some of the weight I've been carrying around begins to lift. I almost feel like my mom is here, encouraging me. I've never felt her presence around me. If it's been there, I've ignored it, but now I feel like it's here. I feel like Greg is here too, telling me I'm stronger than I think I am. He used to always say that when I told him I couldn't do something.
I don't feel Ben's presence around me, but I think that's because I won't let myself. It's too hard. I'm not ready to say goodbye to him. I can still see him playing next to me on the floor, driving his toy cars around, wearing his favorite dinosaur shirt, and then jumping up on the couch and hugging me for no reason at all. I'd tickle him and he'd laugh and tell me he wanted to be just like me someday.
"Callie," Nash whispers as he holds me tighter. I feel the wetness on his shirt and notice I'm crying again, remembering Ben. "We can talk about him later," Nash says.
I glance at the clock and see I've been talking for over an hour. But I'm not done. I need to finish.
I look up at Nash. "I want to tell you about him."
He rubs his thumb over my cheek, wiping away the tears. "Go ahead. Talk as long as you want. I'm not going anywhere."
For the next hour, I tell him about my little brother and the cute things he used to do and say, and about how he thought I was the greatest sister ever.
"But I wasn't," I say, tears streaming down my face. "I wasn't the greatest sister. I wasn't even a good sister. If I was, I would've gone with him that day. He begged me to, and I told him no. Why?" I wipe my eyes. "Why did I do that?"
"Because you weren't meant to go with them," Nash says, rubbing his hand up and down my arm. "You were meant to be here. You may not understand why, but that's the thing about life. You don't always understand it. It doesn't always make sense. And sometimes it does things that piss you off, but you just have to keep going."
"I'm trying," I whisper.
"I know you are." He brings my head to his chest and kisses the top of it.
I wrap my arm around his waist and bring my legs up on the couch and close my eyes. It's late and I'm tired, but I don't want Nash to leave. He must know I want him to stay because he turns and lies down on the couch, taking me with him. I nestle against his warm body as his arm goes over me.
And as I lie here next to him, it becomes clear to me that Nash is not just my neighbor. He's not just my friend. He's the man I've fallen in love with.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Nash
When I wake up, the room is lit from the sun and I squint from the brightness as I check the clock. It's after eight. My neck and back are aching from sleeping on this couch, but I couldn't leave Callie alone last night. She was finally opening up to me, telling me about her family and how much they meant to her, and about the guilt she feels for not going with them that day. She spilled her heart out to me and there was no way in hell I was going to leave her all alone after that. She needs support now more than ever as she works her way through to the acceptance stage of grief. She's been lingering in the denial stage for so long that it'd be easy for her to go back to it. But I won't let her.
I smile as I see her tiny body wedged between me and the back of the couch. Her eyes are closed and she's softly breathing, her hand resting over my chest. She's beautiful. And so at peace as she sleeps. I just want to watch her a few minutes before getting up.
I'm not sure where things will go from here with Callie and me. But I do know that I love her. I feel it when I'm with her and even when I'm not. We haven't known each other that long, but we've spent a lot of time together. And in that time, we've shared our deepest secrets, deepest regrets, and the pain and guilt we feel over those we've lost. Sometimes it isn't time that develops a love for a person. It's shared experiences, shared connections, a bond over surviving a type of tragedy most others will never know.
"Nash?" I hear Callie's soft voice as she blinks her eyes open. "What time is it?"