I hold out my hand, trying to block her, but I can’t help but smile.
I haven’t seen her pick up her camera since we lost Beckett. This. This is good.
“Jace,” she laughs. “Come on.”
I drop my hand and give her my most brooding stare.
She groans. “Don’t glare at me like you’re trying to kill me with your eyes.”
I laugh and she smiles triumphantly before her camera starts clicking.
I steal the camera from her and turn it her way. She tries to hide and I cluck my tongue. “Oh, so you don’t like it when the tables are turned, huh?”
She shakes her head and reluctantly gives me a smile.
I stare at the image that pops up on the screen. “You look like an angry elementary school kid who missed out on pizza and has to eat leftover meatloaf.”
Then, like I did with her, she begins to laugh.
I take a picture and look at it. “Perfect,” I whisper, pleased.
She takes her camera back and tucks it away. “I quit my job at the record store,” she admits. “That was stupid, in hindsight.” She rests her elbow on the table and her hand on her fist, squishing her face.
I chuckle. “They love you there. I’m sure they’ll take you back.”
She nods. “I know. But maybe I should focus on my photography, and … get better.”
I appreciate she’s acknowledging the fact she’s not okay. She’s not faking. She’s not hiding. She’s being real.
“Whatever you think you need to do, you know I’m one-hundred percent for.”
“How have you managed to stay so normal through all this?” she asks, her voice curious. The waitress sets our coffees down and Nova smiles at her before she leaves.
“I wouldn’t say I’m normal, but I think when you shut down I decided I had to keep a level head. One of us had to keep our heads above water or everything would have fallen apart.”
She drops her chin, and I quickly reach for her, bringing her back to me.
“Don’t be ashamed. You were grieving. We lost a child. It isn’t an easy thing.”
A single tear falls down her cheeks.
“Sometimes, I worry, life will never feel normal again. Then I worry it will and it’ll be like he never existed.”
I shake my head adamantly. “That’s not true.”
“I know, but it’s the way I feel.”
I wish I could erase all those bad thoughts and doubts from her mind, but I know I can’t. All I can do is show her day by day that things will be okay.
And they will be.
Sometimes it’ll be hard.
Sometimes it’ll be good.
But that’s life.
A motherfucking rollercoaster ride.