Page 116 of Fall For Me
“She’s fucking dead!”
“Well, bring her the fuck back!”
Yeah, I’m not doing this again.
Swinging my legs back over the side of the ledge, I stand and hop on my bike. The engine vibrates between my thighs as I rev it up and set out toward the city. There’s only one person who can help me before I spiral too far.
* * *
Carter’s elbows rest on his desk; his fingers steepled in front of him. “Have you ever heard of the five stages of grief?”
“I’ve heard of them, but I don’t know what all of them are,” I say, shaking my head.
“Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and last . . . acceptance. Sound familiar?” Before I can answer, he continues. “The stages of grief don’t just apply to people grieving the death of a loved one, Han. In your case, it was a breakup and a life-changing diagnosis at the same time. And just as you were arriving at the stage of acceptance, Granny died, and so now the cycle starts all over again.”
“River’s right. You psychoanalyze the shit out of people.”
“Not intentionally, unless asked . . . and never her. But yeah, it’s kind of my job.” He laughs, jotting something down on his notepad.
“So, what do I do, Carter? I don’t want to be that version of myself ever again.”
“You won’t.” The office chair creaks as he sets down his pen and leans back.
“How do you know?” I ask, not quite believing him.
“I know because the version of yourself that was struggling before never asked for help, and now, you’re sitting here in front of me freaking out because you’re scared you’re falling back into a pattern.”
“I’m not freaking out.”
“Inside you are.” He raises a brow, and my eyes dart down in embarrassment.
“You won’t always feel like this, okay? You just lost your friend. You’re angry because she’s gone. You’re sad because you loved her. What you’re feeling right now is completely normal.”
“Well, even so, there’s still shit I need to work on.”
“There’s shit we could all stand to work on. I’m here to help you, Hannah, and I’m not dismissing anything you’re telling me, but just for the record, I think you’re doing a lot better than you think.”
Maybe he’s right, maybe I am. I don’t know.
“Let yourself grieve. Don’t try to numb it with stupid shit like . . . oh, I don’t know . . . jumping off a cliff after watching a YouTube video.”
My eyes take a turn around my head. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“No. Probably not.” He winks.
I stand to leave, and his voice stops me as I pick up my backpack.
“You already did the hard part . . . recognizing the problem. If there’s something you wanna work on, work on it. But first, give yourself another week or two to grieve your loss. Let me know when you're ready to talk some things through.”
“Thanks.” I nod, then head out the door, feeling a little more optimistic than I did when I came in.
Thirty-Four
Sean
“Seany?” Jade calls my name for what has to be the millionth time, and I pray like hell it’s not followed by another hard question.
The month following Granny’s memorial service has passed in a blur, and though that was hard, every question this little girl has thrown at me on our short drive to work this morning may have been harder. Every one of them has been about God and heaven . . . which, I hesitated on. I’m Catholic, and though Aiden’s and my spiritual views align, Godfather or not, I still feel like those questions are meant for her dad to answer.
