“Hearing it over and over again sucks. It makes me remember what happened to me, and then I think about kids talking about me, and everyone else who was hurt or died that day. It makes my stomach hurt.”
I don’t tell Lachlan, but I spent my lunch period in the bathroom dry heaving. Sasha and Ansel blew up my phone, trying to see if I was okay, or where I was, but I didn’t have the energy, nor the heart, to text them back.
Lachlan stares at me for a long moment, his face tight. “I wish I could make this all go away for you.”
“Yeah, well you can’t.” I’m not trying to be rude, it’s just the reality. Rubbing a hand over my face I say, “I’m doing better, but it’s hard. It’s only been a year. It’s still fresh.”
“No one expects you to be over it.” His voice is assuring, his eyes sad. “Healing takes time, mental scars are some of the deepest, and to be frank with you, Dani, this will stay with you your whole life. The best course of action is to find ways for you to cope. When something begins to upset you, you need to think of something else.” He ponders on his own words. “Maybe you could think of a favorite memory, or a dream of the future, to focus on and drown out the other thoughts.”
I pluck at the hair elastic on my wrist. ?
?Do you think I should’ve died that day?”
His eyes widen in horror, lips falling open. “Why the hell would you say that?”
“I don’t know … my mom died, others too.”
Suddenly he’s squatted right in front of me. Despite the ramifications he grabs my hand, holding it gently in both of his. “Yeah and others survived that day too, Dani. You’re meant to be here for a reason. Never ever doubt that. Do you hear me? I never want to hear you say such a thing again. You’re right where you’re meant to be.”
With me, he leaves unsaid, or at least I hear those two silent words hanging there.
I glance at the window, the open blinds where anyone could walk by. Quickly, I touch my free hand to his cheek, and lean in to place a tender kiss on his lips. It’s over in a second, but it’s much needed. I already feel stronger.
I look out the window again, finding it still empty outside.
Quietly, I admit, “That day is always going to be a dark cloud over me, isn’t it?”
He shakes his head. “No, baby. That dark cloud is going to turn gray, then it’s going to clear off, but here’s the thing—we need the rainy days to appreciate the sunny ones. So when those bad days come around, don’t dwell on them. Use them instead to remind yourself of all the good you have.”
“Why are you so smart?”
He laughs. “Trust me, I’m not that smart. I’m in love with you, aren’t I?” Even though the words could be hurtful, he grins as he says them.
I punch him lightly in the arm. “Wrong, that makes you even smarter. I’m a catch.”
He chuckles, standing up. He grabs his chair, pulling it around and in front of his desk. He settles into it and we spend the rest of the period talking about books.
When I leave my heart feels a smidge lighter.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Standing outside the condo’s gym I question why I’m even here.
I know my hesitation is silly, because I can’t run doesn’t mean I can’t exercise. My doctors mentioned how biking would be good, even the elliptical, but my heart yearns for the mindlessness of running, how I could zone out and feel the pavement pounding beneath my feet.
Sometimes, when I think of those days, all my time spent running, it’s like it’s an entirely different girl.
Blowing out a breath, I grab the handle and push it.
It swings open, revealing the state of the art gym. It’s large, much larger than I expected, with shiny equipment, padded floors, and big screen TVs.
There are two other people inside, both men, over by the weights. They glance over at me when the door closes, announcing my arrival, but return to their gym time without a second look which is a relief.
Putting my headphones in Takeaway by The Chainsmokers plays. I hop on the bike that’s tucked in the farthest corner.
I start pedaling, trying to ignore the frustration I feel.
But I know if I can start exercising again, it’ll be good not only for my physical health, but mental as well.