Page 166 of Tell Me I'm Enough

He shakes his head. “No, I had Chase drive me. I—I just needed to see you. Check on you.”

As much as it hurts my heart to see him like this, I can’t seem to stop myself from standing up and running into his arms, needing the comfort…needing him.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I wanted to come that night, but I knew you had a lot going on. I wanted to give you the space with her, but…I couldn’t wait any longer. I needed to know how you were doing.”

I just nod because I can’t get any words out with how emotional I feel.

He looks down at me. “How are you holding up?” he asks.

The sad answer isI’m not.

I’m not holding up at all. I’m being held together by fear and caffeine and whatever stubborn piece of love refuses to let me give up.

“I don’t know,” I whisper.

Mason looks over to Lydia, then back to me. “I’m here. If you need anything.”

The words hurt for some reason. Because I do need things, and I know he can’t actually give them to me.

I need Lydia to open her eyes.

I need the universe to stop hurting the people I love.

I need Mason to take care of himself.

I need him to be someone safe. Because I want him around more than I’d like to admit. And that scares me. Because caring about him right now feels more like stepping toward another cliff.

I can’t do this again. I can’t start caring about someone and watch them self-destruct, too. My heart can’t take another person who doesn’t want to be here.

I know they aren’t the same. At least that’s what my brain keeps trying to convince me. But for some reason, itfeelssimilar.

I swallow hard and force myself to speak, even though my throat hurts from days of crying. “Thank you…for coming. For…being here.”

He nods and hugs me closer.

I have to take a breath and steady myself so I can do the thing I’ve always been awful at—setting boundaries.

I need space to think about things with him. Because we can say all we want that whatever is happening between us is platonic still, but my heart doesn’t feel that way, even if his does. And I need to protect mine.

“I need to focus on her,” I tell him softly. “I can’t…do anything else right now. I can’t be—” I swallow, trying to find the best non-pathetic and embarrassing words. “I can’t be pulled in a bunch of directions. Not while she’s like this.”

His face changes, almost like that hurt a little, but then it shifts more into understanding.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m not asking for anything from you.”

It hurts even though it shouldn’t. Even though I know it’s not what I need, Iwanthim to want me.

Why can my heart and brain never agree on what we need?

“I’m going home for the summer,” I add. “If—when she wakes up…I’m gonna stay with her. We’re gonna try to get her into a program, rehab…something.”

Mason’s gaze holds mine. And for a second, he looks scared, like he’s losing me. Then he rights it back into place.

“Then…I’ll see you after summer break,” he says quietly.

I hate the thought of being away from him all summer.

He steps closer and cups my face carefully, and then kisses me. It isn’t heated like the first one. It isn’t hungry. It’s soft, and grounding, and reassuring that he’s here for me. Like he’ll be waiting. Like he’s telling me with his mouth what his words can’t say.