Page 93 of Carter

“Sure thing, but I am not even close to thinking about that yet.”

I get to the subway, we part ways, and I hop on so I can head home. I smile to myself the whole way. All I can think about is Nash and how badly I want to see him. I think about last night and how heated things got. Part of me wanted to keep going—to invite him into my bedroom—but I still don’t think I’m ready for that. I have things that I need to make peace with first; things I need to understand about myself and what I’m going through; things I need to handle before I decide to give that part of myself to someone again.

I stare at the boxes in the corner, my stomach turning sour.

Ryan’s boxes have been in this corner, mostly untouched, since I moved in. I went through one a few weeks ago and took that necklace that I’ve kept on my end table, as a sort of desensitization. Something that belonged to Ryan is there. I see it. I know it. I’m still okay. I can do this. Putting all of this behind me, it’s what I need to do to move on with my life.

Even if his case doesn’t get solved, I still get to live. But I can’t live in fear forever—I don’t want to. I can’t hold on to a ghost. I have to move forward and stop focusing on the past. It’s unfair to myself, and Ryan wouldn’t want that for me.

It has nothing to do with Nash specifically. This is for me. Nash is just the one who made me see that. I’m doing it for myself, I’m doing it for me, because I know that I can. Because I deserve to be happy and have a good life—a life with a husband and kids. Lots of kids. As many as I can handle. I’ve always had dreams and ideas of what I want for my life. I’m still here to reach them, so I need to do that.

Nash has quickly become the person I turn to, the person I trust, the person I know will be there no matter what, and I don’tknow where he will be in my life in one, two, five, or ten years, but he’s taught me something that will last a lifetime.

Which is why I pull my phone from my pocket and call him.

“Hi,” he answers in that raspy voice that I like so much. I can’t help but smile.

“Hey.”

“How was your day? Group?” he asks.

“It was good. But, uh… I decided that I need to go through Ryan’s things, and it’s just… not so easy.” I stare at the boxes, shifting on my feet. This is going to hurt. I’m bracing for it. Because I can’t turn away again. This needs to get done.

“I remember when I had to go through everything in the house after my parents’ died.”

“The whole house?”

“There was no one else to do it. I was the oldest. I didn’t want Jericho and Hollis in there after what we saw. I didn’t go througheverything, just our rooms mostly.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do that either.”

“I needed to prove to myself that I could be strong, that I could do whatever I needed to move forward. For them, mostly.”

“You knew that at sixteen?”

He huffs a humored sound. “What can I say? I was smart even then.”

I chuckle as I take a step closer to the boxes, my hands starting to sweat.

“I know I’m strong. I know I can do this. I just know it’s going to hurt and I’m so tired of hurting.”

There’s a long pause and knowing Nash, I know he’s about to say something important.

“Carter, when you open those boxes, think of the good memories only. Don’t think about Ryan being gone. Don’t think about what you’re missing out on. Think about the good thingsthat come with every item in those boxes. Go in with a positive mindset. See if that helps.”

A rush of air leaves me, and my shoulders deflate, some of the tension leaving my body.

“You really are a smart man,” I say, my voice cracking because I’m on the verge of tears.

How does he always know the right thing to say? Even when it comes to this.

“Are you sure you’re real?” I whisper.

“Last I checked. But I’ll look for a pulse if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Pretty sure I felt that racing last night.”

“Pretty sure you did.”