Watching

“So,” Dr. Bailey began, smiling at me, “tell me about your week.”

It was the same way she began every session, but I found myself pondering it more than I usually would. “It was, interesting,” I replied.

She raised one eyebrow at me in curiosity. “And why is that?”

Now that I knew Dr. Bailey was familiar with Kris, and had clearly pieced together that he and I already knew one another, it made me hesitant to want to share the full details of what was happening. I had to take a moment to choose my answer carefully, licking my lips as I did so. “One of my friends had a gathering at his house that I went to, and it was kind of odd for me. He and Evan were team mates for a brief time, as were all the other people there. I had kind of fallen out of contact with just about everyone at his house, and being forced to re-introduce myself to them all at once was intimidating.”

“Were they welcoming to you, or did they make it obvious that there was a resentment there?” She asked, tilting her head to the side a bit.

“The boys were fine. They wee more worried about saying something that may hurt my feelings then letting me know that I had hurt theirs. The girls were a little odder.”

Dr. Bailey nodded, a small smile appearing. “I’m sure you’re aware of this already, but females are far more emotional then males, and the ability to let go of past hurts is a greater challenge. Girls have more of a sponge-like mind then males, which is why studies point to them maturing faster and having a high IQ. But they also absorb the emotions felt at a specific time, and it’s easier for them to revert back to that moment then it is to let it go and move on. Males have a more ‘come and go’ approach to things. They hang on to the information they deem exciting, hence most husbands forgetting their wives birthdays and anniversaries.”

I made a bit of a face. “Now you’re going to fill my head with those stats, great.”

She only smiled again, adjusting herself in her chair. “Are you glad that you were re-introduced to those friends?”

“For sure,” I answered without a thought. “I used to be afraid of brining back pieces of my past, you know? All of those things that reminded me of Evan were things that I immediately pushed away. I didn’t even watch hockey for the first five months, it was just too much for me to handle, but I know that I can’t keep walls around me. I have to start letting those people back in.”

“No one ever healed by themselves, Katy,” Dr. Bailey said softly. “I say this to you often, I know, but you are truly handling this devastating loss with such strength and grace that I find myself amazed at times. To be capable of reaching back out to those close to Evan, accepting your own faults in that sense of aloneness and struggling to fix relationships just after the first year, it’s really an amazing trait. Please be aware of how strong you are.”

I smiled, suddenly feeling as if I might cry. “That means a lot to me, Dr. Bailey. Thank you.”

------------------------

Kris was playing a game that night, and despite how tired I felt from three piano lessons that day, as well as my car deciding to break down on the journey home, I plopped myself in front of the TV with a microwave dinner and watched.

When Evan wasn’t playing and was in town, which was more often then not with both of us working in Pittsburgh, we would watch Kris play together. Evan had this old white t-shirt that he used to wear in gym, and he had taken it and written “I WANNA BANG KRIS LETANG” across it with a black sharpie. He wore it to the first NHL game Kris was called up to play in, the tickets he was given being three rows behind the penalty box. I had gone with him, choosing to wear just a plain Penguins hoodie that Kris’ dad had given me, and we had stood up and clapped every time the puck touched Kris’ hockey stick. During intermissions, Kris would skate past the glass and look to us for our opinions on his last shift, always earning a thumbs up from both of us, even if he had been the cause of a turn-over. Evan and I were still in the process of figuring out where our relationship was going, the As Tall As Lions concert having been just two weeks earlier, and Kris was completely unaware of any change in the dynamics of the friendship. It was before Kris had grown resentful towards me, before Evan and I struggled with his busy schedule in the AHL, and before that fateful night when I received the phone call no girlfriend ever wanted to hear.

I wore the same sweatshirt as I sat on the couch, my legs crossed beneath me with the dish of warmed up fettuccini alfredo resting on top of them. They were playing the Rangers, a team that the Penguins always seemed to struggle against. I watched intently as they played, yelling my protests at the screen when Brandon Prust threw a high hit on Chris Kunitz, and shaking my head in disapproval as Marc Staal snuck in a shot to the back of Max Talbot’s head.

By mid-way through the second period, the Rangers were up 2-0, with Marc kneeling in the net shaking his head. The second goal had been a bad one, hitting the tip of his glove and dropping into the net behind him, giving one of the Pens least liked rivals, Sean Avery, his tenth goal of the young season. “Come on, Marc. That’s just one bad goal, you can keep the rest out,” I muttered, hoping that the words somehow found their way to him.

The camera panned out as one of the commentators spewed praises about Henrik Lundqvist over the air. My eyes scanned the players on the ice, seeking out 58 and staying there once he was found. Kris was off to the left near the centre ice line, his chin resting on the butt-end of his stick as he seemed to survey the ice. Sidney was talking things over with Pascal Dupuis and Chris Kunitz, the three of them desperate to get something going. The entire arena was silent, save for the sound of skates on the ice. The team had been fairly inconsistent so far, winning four straight and then losing two. It made it hard for the fans to gage their feelings towards the season, and the team was aware of that.

Sidney skated over to Kris, saying something to him quietly before Kris nodded, repeating the play back to him. A scuff in the ice to the side of Marc’s net had allowed a couple of minutes for Sidney to set-up an idea for the Pens on the ice, and I could see the fire in his eyes as he took to the face-off circle.

As soon as he had won control of the puck, Sidney faked a pass to Pascal Dupuis, bating Marian Gaborik enough that he could easily skate past him, carrying the puck. The mic’s on the ice picked up his scream to Kris, who was skating as hard and fast as he could, making sure that Erik Christensen and Brandon Dubinsky were still left behind. Brooks Orpik had made sure to Daniel Girardi was tied up, leaving the ice almost completely empty for Kris and Sidney.

Marc Staal was the lone defenceman, having picked up on Sidney’s pay idea and staying with him nearly the whole way. He was skating backwards, trying to follow all of his moves. Lundqvist was near the top of his crease, both of them seeming to pay more attention to Sidney then Kris.

With no warning to Staal, Sidney dropped the puck behind him, making it easy for Kris to pick back up. Marc Staal skidded, trying to throw himself in the shooting lane of Kris as soon as he saw the pass. Girardi had sprung loose from Orpik and was nearly caught up as well, trying to catch Sidney. Kris faked a shot, twice, the slapped the puck across to Sidney, who shot it in behind Lundqvist without hesitation.

The entire arena erupted into cheers, jumping to their feet. The team was still a goal behind, but you wouldn’t have picked that up from the crowd. It looked like it was a playoff atmosphere in there, and by the way Kris and Sidney tacked one another to the ice in celebration, you’d believe it, too.

Generally, watching the Penguins play made me glance beside me at the vacant spot on the couch, the pang of loneliness echoing through my chest as I longed for Evan.
But in that moment, as I stood up and cheered as loudly as the fans who were actually there, all I wished was that I was a part of it. That I was a part of something.

------------------

The game was won 4-3 in overtime by the Rangers, the disappointment I felt baring no compare to the way it was slapped across each of the Penguins players faces, Marc’s especially. It had been a hard play that lost them the game. Mike Rupp bobbled the puck while carrying it through centre, allowing Derek Stepan the chance to steal the puck and pass it across the ice to a speeding Derek Boogaard, a sight not often seen. Boogaard lost control of the puck just before he could actually shoot it, but Marc reached out to try and poke check, accidentally knocking the puck back on track. Alex Goligoski had skated back to try and break up the play, but as he slid to a stop, the puck hit his skate, bouncing off of Marc’s leg and into the goal, causing the arena to let out a collective gasp.
The look of despair on Marc’s face when he lifted his mask up to stare in disbelief at the puck was heart wrenching. It may have not have been an “important” game, but the loss seemed to hit the team harder then any previous ones had.

A good two hours after the game, I heard my cell phone going off. I was in the midst of crawling into my bed, my hair still wet from the shower I had freshly emerged from. I groaned, leaning away from the bed so I could grab my phone off of the charger and answer. “Hello?”

“Kaitlin,” Kris breathed, sounding as if he was still recovering from the intensity of the game. “How are you?”

I sat down on the edge of my bed, letting my feet lift up off of the floor from the height of the bed. “I’m fine. How are you?”

There was a pause, the only sound being his breathing. “Tired,” he finally said. “Did you see the game?”

“I did. I’m sorry it didn’t turn out the way you would have liked it to. You guys played so well, though. That first goal, the one Sid set you up for, that was amazing.”

“I’m glad you think so. Hopefully coach does, too,” he said, and by the tone of his voice, I could imagine a small smile there. “What are you doing tomorrow?” He asked.

I thought about it for a second, trying to remember the date. “Actually, I don’t believe that I’m doing anything. Why?”

Again, there was a pause. “I was planning on meeting Travis for lunch, we usually meet up on Thursdays,” he began, “but, Travis’ shifts have been switched, so he is no longer available. I know it’s silly, but I don’t like changing my routine, so I’ll be at the diner anyways, and I was thinking that maybe you would go too?”

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down on it a bit. “Well…sure. Yeah, that’s fine. What time should I be there?”

“I can pick you up. Is one o’clock okay?” He asked.

“That’s fine. I guess I’ll see you then?” I asked.

“Yes. And Katy?” He asked, causing me to hum in response. “Thank you for watching the game. I know hockey was hard for you to pay attention to for awhile. I appreciate you paying attention to the team once more.”

“Well, those guys meant a lot to Evan, and to me. It would be heartless of me to ignore the team,” I reasoned. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Kris.”

“See you then, Kaitlin.”

Making Plans

Kris looked just as unsure as I felt when I answered my door the next day to find him there. He offered a half smile, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his dark hair tucked under a backwards hat. “Hi.”

I tried to smile back, tugging on a light cardigan over my tshirt. “Hi. Sorry you had to come get me.”

He shrugged. “It’s okay. If the movies Flower picked out are bad, we can just leave early,” he said. I laughed lightly, locking the door behind me before I followed him out to his car.

The drive to Marc’s house wasn’t a long one, but the short distance accompanied by the tense silence of Kris and I seemed to extend the drive, making the minutes morph into hours, feeling wise. I let out a sigh, allowing my head to lean against the window and rest, my concentration falling to the passing scenery instead of how uncomfortable the silence we were sitting in was.

Kris cleared his throat, seeming to shoot a quick glance at me before he leaned forward a bit and turned the radio on, allowing the sounds of whichever band was playing to take over the car. “Is it okay if the radio is on?” He asked.

I shrugged. “It’s your car.”

“I know, but some people don’t like it,” he said.

I lifted my head off the window, glancing at him with a small frown. “There’s people out there that don’t like music?”

There was a hint of a smile on his face as he glanced at me. “Maybe not. I just don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He made a bit of a pouty face, re-thinking his sentence before saying, “More uncomfortable.”

I smiled a bit. “Music is fine, Kris. Don’t worry.”

He nodded, the two of us falling back into silence as a song that neither one of us seemed to recognize played. Kris drummed his fingers on his steering wheel as he drove, a habit I remembered absolutely hating when we were still such good friends. Both he and Evan were guilty of it. Kris would tap out the rhythm with his fingers on either the dashboard or the steering wheel, depending on who was driving. Evan would air guitar if he was the passenger, and if not, he hummed along with the lyrics. Neither one was a good singer, but they always had to be connected to whatever song was playing. It had driven me crazy back when the three of us were such good friends and I would sit in the backseat, completely annoyed by how off key Evan’s humming was, or how irritating Kris’ finger drumming was.

But on the drive over to Marc’s house, where both of us were so unsure of how to even act after the moment at the cemetery, it was a relief to see him simply being Kris. It was just another piece of life before Evan’s death that I had missed.

--------------------------

“Katy!” Marc bellowed as I took my shoes off in the entry way of his house. He came running from across the house to slide to a stop next to me, grinning. “So glad you made it.” He glanced over at Kris, giving him a head nod. “Tangers, nice to see you, as usual.”

Kris nodded back, sending a quick glance back at me before he made his way into the living room where the rest of the guests seemed to be, the sound of laughter a signal that that was where they were.

Marc grinned at me as soon as Kris was out of ear shot. “Did you two bond? Is your friendship back?” He grabbed my arm, pushing the sleeve of his cardigan up so he could look at my wrist.

I frowned, trying to pry my arm from it’s grip. “What are you doing?”

He looked up at me. “Checking to see if you are wearing a friendship bracelet.”

I laughed, tugging my arm away from him. “Really, Marc? No, there is not a friendship bracelet. We actually barely talked on the whole drive.”

He let out a loud sigh, placing both of his hands on his hips. “Katy, silence is not the way to making progress.” I rolled my eyes, moving around him so I could head into the living room as well.

It was intimidating to see all of those faces again. Although Evan had only played two games in the NHL as a call-up, I was familiar with most of the actual Penguins because of my friendship with Kris. Evan and I were always invited to the team’s parties, or over for a get together with the other team mates. Obviously, Kris always included Evan in any event that he threw, and since Evan was always a very social and endearing person, he easily created friendships with them all. I was obviously not as close to any of them as Kris or Evan was, but I considered all of the boys my own friends, at the time.

Standing at the edge of the living room and seeing those same faces, the ones I would have easily called my “buds”, and knowing that I hadn’t even uttered a word to most of them since Evan’s funeral created a knot of nerves within my stomach.

Jordan Staal was the first one to notice me, as he was facing the entrance. For a few seconds, he stared as if he was unsure if I was really there, or if he was in some sort of a hallucination. His odd expression sparked the concern of the rest of the guests, and within seconds, the entire room was turning around to stare at me.

I let my eyes pass each face, placing a name to each one. [I]Jordan, Tyler, Pascal, Sidney, Matt, Max.[/I] Obviously, Kris was also there, seeming a tad bit amused by the shocked expression of his friends.

Sidney got up from his spot on the couch and walked straight over to me, offering a smile. “Hey, glad you came.”

I nodded, relieved that he was there. Even if my reunion with him was only for a few minutes while we waited for Kris to wake up, I was happy that I had already spoken to him. It made the awkwardness of the moment seem less intense.

“The girls are outside looking at the new patio furniture Vero bought,” Sidney informed me, turning back around so that he could see the rest of the room. “Guys, you all remember Katy, right?”

I gave the biggest smile I could muster up, offering a lame wave at them all. “Hi. Sorry I’ve been invisible for the last year.”

There was a pause before Jordan grinned, waving back to me. “I’m glad you’re not dead.” He winced, slapping a hand to his forehead. “Sorry, that was a terrible choice of words.”

I laughed, “No, it’s okay. I’m not that sensitive, don’t worry.”

“How have you been?” Pascal Dupuis asked, smiling. “Marc told us you were in therapy?”

I glanced over at Kris, who was too busy checking his cell phone to return the glance. “Actually, I’m still in therapy. I had finished my first year, but I hear you need a couple of years to be okay. Besides, another year gives me time to rant about my family issues. Then none of you would have to hear about it again,” I said.

“I saw your parents at Evan’s birthday event,” Tyler said, scooting over on the couch and offering the space to me. “And I’m guessing by your expression that you didn’t invite them?”

I laughed, making my way over to the couch and taking the seat in between him and Jordan. “Yeah, that was unaccepted. I should have seen it coming, though. I mean, if it’s a flashy party and can get them some attention, my mom and dad will be there.” I sighed, “Sorry, I just told you I wouldn’t rant about them anymore, and then I rant about them right after.”

“Ah, I basically forced you into it,” Tyler reminded. “I like your mom’s dress.”

“Yeah, it was very classy,” Jordan added. “What are your parents names again?”

“Marshall and Cynthia,” I answered, sighing again after.

Jordan nodded. “Classy names.”

“Okay, changing the subject,” Sidney said, shooting me a half smile, “do you still play piano?”

“I actually teach piano now,” I answered. “Why, you want to learn?”

He laughed. “Not really, music’s never really been my thing,” he let out a small laugh. “Actually, we’re planning a Thanksgiving event for Children’s Hospital, and there was talk of having someone come in and play some music for the event.”

I made a face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’d rather not. They’ll expect me to play kids songs, and children’s music makes me want to gauge my ear drums out.”

“Wow, that’s pretty extreme,” Marc said, startling me as I hadn’t seen him walk into the living room. He grinned at my reaction. “The ladies are asking for you, if you’d like to leave the awkward guy talk,” he said, pointing towards the kitchen, where the doors that led outside were.

“It was not guy talk,” Matt Cooke said, turning to look at me. “We didn’t even bring up boobs. That’s how much we missed you.”

I shook my head, pushing myself off of the couch. “Your wife would be so proud of you.”

He smirked. “That’s probably a lie, but I appreciate the effort.”

I let out a small laugh, making my way out of the living room and out towards where the girls were, relieved to see Vero once more.

“The first movie will start in about ten minutes!” Marc called out after me as I left the living room. “Tell the other girls!”

--------------------------

The movie Marc chose for us all to watch ended up being “300”, a movie I had seen far too many times and was sick of before he had even popped the DVD in.

The other girls there were all nice enough when I stepped outside to meet them. Vero had clearly given them a run-down of my last year and warned them to keep any, “It’s been so long, what were so busy doing?” comments to themselves.

Lacy, Tyler’s girlfriend, had seemed the most confused by my arrival, but tried to cover it up as best she could, offering me a glass of punch and asking about Sara. I knew that the girls would be less welcoming then the boys. After all, I had actual friendships with most of the girlfriends, and to just fall off the face of the earth for over a year because I was too sad was something girls had a harder time overlooking. There were many moments where I wished I had chosen to stay inside with the boys, where the conversations would have focused on making fun of my parents, food and which players on the rival teams I found attractive.

I made my way out of the living room and into the kitchen before the movie had started, choosing to focus on the counter full of snacks instead the movie I was so sick of.

It had only been an hour, but I felt like I had been there for a full day. It was obvious that most of them were unsure of what they could say and do around me. Evan’s birthday event had probably been the first time any of them had even seen me since his funeral, and if all they really knew was that I had spent the last year in therapy, and was still in therapy. It was probably hard to judge what was taking things too far.

“You don’t want to watch the movie?” Kris asked, causing me to look up from the crab dip and at him as he leaned against the counter, the hat he had been wearing gone from his head.

“Not really,” I confessed, picking up a cracker and dipping it. “What is it with hockey players and that movie? I swear, every one of you loves that movie.”

Kris let out a small laugh, picking up a Nanaimo bar and eyeing it, as if he wasn’t sure whether he should actually eat it or not. “I think it’s more of a man movie, that’s why. There’s lots of blood, lots of swearing-”

“Boobs,” I added, smirking at him as he grinned.

“Those too,” he agreed, finally taking a bite of the Nanaimo bar. “Are you at least having fun?”

I shrugged. “Kind of. It’s nice to see everyone again,” I began, glancing around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen as I dropped my voice to a whisper, “but they’re being kind of weird. The girls are worried I’m not emotionally stable, the guys are worried that they’ll go too far with one of their comments. I know it’s just because they hadn’t seen me in so long, and they all care, but I wish they knew I was fine.” I sighed, taking a bite our of the cracker and chewing on the piece for a moment before adding, “I wish I had the relationships I used too. Before all of this.”

Kris nodded, the bar half gone already. “I know. There are so many days I wish I could block everything out, you know?” He asked me. “I wish I could close my eyes and go back to how things were before Evan’s accident. Back when we all got along,” he moved his focus away from me and towards the big, glass doors that looked outside. “Back to when I was happy,” he finished.

I looked over at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. The front Kris had put up before, all of the anger and hatred he had spewed out at me had vacated itself and left him as the fragile man he was. The pain that he was still struggling to control was growing more and more obvious, and the loneliness of losing his best friend was weighing down on him.

Kris cleared his throat, seeming to need a moment to collect himself beforehe looked back over at me. “We always want things that we can’t have, right?” He asked, half kidding.

I nodded, glancing over at the living room as I heard the sounds of “300” starting. “I miss how things used to be, too.”

Kris let out long breath of air, the strength of it blowing his hair around his face. “I think things have gotten better, though,” he said, taking a seat at one of the kitchen chairs. He let out a small chuckle, grabbing a handful of crackers. “You know, the first two weeks back home, I would fill the bath tub with water, get in and hide beneath the water. It was the only way to quiet everything in my head.”

The confession made me freeze, the memories of my own dark days, the one where I stayed under the blankets or submerged myself beneath the water as Kris had said he did surfaced to the front of my mind. I glanced over at him, noticing that his attention was now on the crackers he was eating. The last confession we had shared came amidst the tears at the cemetery.
[I]I don’t want to be alone anymore.
I don’t either.[/I]

But he was alone, wasn’t he? All of the focus both he and his friends were putting on bringing me back into the real world only meant that Kris was being left alone. At the end of the day, I would go home to my apartment with Sara, and tell her about how awkward the day was. Marc would probably call to make sure I had enjoyed myself, and Vero would try to set up a coffee date. Kris would return to his empty house, where he would crawl into bed and wonder why he was so lonely, trying to sleep before heading to practice the next day, where most of his team mates would talk about how nice it was to see me again.

“Kris,” I said, seeming to snap him out of a trance.

He hummed, looking up at me as he popped another cracker into his mouth.

“I used to do that, too. The filling the tub with water,” I shared, watching as he gazed at me with a sense of confusion. “We’re not that different, are we?” I asked, feeling the tug of a smile. “This whole time, I’ve figured that we were just dealing in completely different ways, but we were just reacting to the process differently.”

He frowned a bit. “I’m not sure what that means,” he admitted.

“You were angry, and I was depressed. Those are two of the most controlling emotions, which I’m sure you’ve already been told in therapy,” I said, waiting for him to confirm that he had. “But we were both going home and trying to silence the pain, because none of the people beside us could understand just how much of a loss Evan was.” I watched his face, waiting to see how he’d react. He still looked unsure, but the tiny glimmer in his eyes made me believe that he was feeling hopeful. “Maybe the only person that understands how much it hurts is you. And maybe I’m the only one that could understand your pain.”

He tugged half of his mouth up into a smile, running a hand through his hair. “I would like that. But I’m not sure I have enough control over myself, yet.”

“When you feel something, it controls you, right?” I asked. “When I was sad, I was overwhelmingly sad. I didn’t want any of the lights on. I felt like I was too depressed to eat, or talk, or laugh. Everything hurt, and I wanted to lie beneath my blankets and not move, not even breathe. It was the only way I felt calm.”

“It’s not the anger I’m scared of, Kaitlin.” Kris shared, watching me now. “It’s everything else. I want us to be the friends we once were, but that friendship that I want, I’m worried we lost it before we lost Evan.”

“We don’t need to be the friends we were in high school,” I pointed out. “We just need to not be alone anymore.”

He studied me again, something I found him doing quite often. “I want to make sure you’re okay, because I know that’s what Evan would want of me.” He paused, licking his lips. “But I… I already told you, I have these feelings, and they’re stronger now because of how messy everything in my head is. Evan is gone, but you’re still his, aren’t you?”

I felt myself growing confused by him, that brief spark of hope that I had felt when I realized how similar Kris and I were in our coping seeming to burn out.

“I’m sorry,” Kris said, giving his head a shake. “I’ve wanted you to tell me that we could help one another since I first saw you at the clinic. I’m just warning you that it might not go well.”

Before I could even offer a response, Sidney walked into the kitchen, seeming to realize he had interrupted an intense discussion, almost wincing when we both turned to stare at him. “I’m sorry. I’m just really hungry.”

I smiled, gesturing at the food. “You’ve come to the right place.”

He grinned, glancing over at Kris, who in return offered a small smile. “Everything okay in here?” He asked, glancing back and forth between the two of us.

Kris seemed to look at me for the answer, concerned that his confessions may have changed my mind. I glanced back up at Sidney, shrugging. “Everything’s fine. Kris and I were just thinking about scheduling in some coffee dates.”

Sidney nodded, beginning to fill his plate with food. “That’s a good idea. No one could understand how either one of you feels better then…the other one.” He made a face, looking over at me. “Do you know what I’m trying to say?”

Both Kris and I let out a small chuckle, exchanging a quick glance. “We get it,” I assured him.

Submerging

Have you ever dunked yourself beneath the water in the bath tub and opened your eyes, just to see how everything looked? The way that the movement of the water distorted your view, causing the images to look as if they were dancing, and the struggle to keep your eyes open against the urge to shut out the water was something I used to love doing as child. Submerging myself beneath the waves and listening to the silence that flooded into my ears was one of the most unexplainable joys to me, for reasons I still don’t understand.

Life after Evan first passed was as if I lived beneath the water. Nothing seemed to stand still for me anymore. My eyes screamed at me to close them and shut out the pains they were being hit with, and it seemed like my head was full of water. I could hear the sounds when someone spoke to me, but the words sounded dragged out, muffled and barely picked up. I spent the fist week lying in bed, my head beneath the covers in the same sort of fashion as I had done in the bathtub, silencing and blacking out the world. I just wanted to scream, and let every emotion out, but I couldn’t.

It took the first two months of therapy before I started dressing properly and wearing some make-up. It took three months after that before I started eating better. I’m not sure when I became capable of speaking in full sentences, understanding those around me and holding myself together, but I hadn’t resorted to hiding beneath the coves of my bed or submerging myself under water in almost a year. Needless to say, when Sara opened the door to my bedroom two days after my encounter with Kris at the cemetery and found me hidden beneath the blankets, she was surprised.

“Katy? Are you alive?” She asked, walking over to the edge of my bed and tugging the blankets off of my face, frowning. “What’s up with you?”

I sighed, propping myself up a bit on my elbows. “I don’t know.”

Sara looked concerned, her mouth tightening a bit. “You don’t know? As in there’s no reason for you to be cooped up in your room, hiding beneath the blankets with the lights off? Katy, come on. You haven’t been like this since you started therapy, what’s going on?”

I finally sat up, trying to tame the wildness of my hair with my hands. “You know how I told you that I went to Evan’s tombstone and had a breakdown?” I asked, waiting for her to reply with a head nod. “Well, I may have left out a few details.”

She raised her eyebrows at me. “What kind of details?”

I twisted my mouth from side to side for a few seconds, debating whether I actually wanted to share the whole story before I relented. “Kris was there too.”

Sara looked as if she had been punched in the face, her head reeling back away from me as she blinked rapidly for a few seconds before giving her head a shake. “What was that?”

“Sara,” I began, already regretting my decision to share the secret, “it’s not a big deal, he was just going there to drop off some flowers-”

“Flowers? What a man,” she interrupted, rolling her eyes.

“-and I was already there and having my melt-down, so he talked to me,” I finished, ignoring her interruption.

“If it wasn’t a big deal, why was I unaware of it?” She asked, looking a little smug as she asked.

“You hate Kris. If I told you that I had my meltdown with him, you would have gone on a rant about how big of a dick he’s been, and how I should pay no attention to how nice he’s being now, blah, blah, blah,” I reminded.

“First off, I thought you were going somewhere else with that ‘what a big dick’ comment. Secondly, even though everything you said is true, you clearly hid this from me for some other reason.” She eyed me, the slight annoyance falling from her face as she looked me over. “Whatever happened, Katy, it was intense enough that you barely left your room yesterday, and you’re hiding under your blankets today.”

I rubbed my forehead. “I know. I’m not sure what it is, I just feel,” I paused, looking upwards as I searched for the word. “Guilty.”

The confession made Sara drop her head into her hands and shake it, as if she could hardly believe that I had said that. “Why did it make you feel guilty? You didn’t make-out on Evan’s grave,” she lifted her head up to look at me once more, “did you?”

I reached out to swat at her, too tired to try again after she ducked the hit. “No, but, somehow I feel like I was betraying Evan. I don’t know how to explain it. When I was in that moment, crying next to Kris while we both admitted that we felt completely alone now, I felt relieved. It was like I was no longer alone, and that momentary breakdown made me feel kind of comforted.” I paused, having to yawn. “But once I got home and thought everything over, I felt like I shouldn’t feel that way.”

Sara seemed confused for a moment. “You felt guilty for no longer feeling alone?”

“Is that crazy?” I asked.

“Well, if you ask me, yes. But I’m sure that if you told your therapist, she’d tell you it’s a perfectly understandable emotion to feel, or something like that.” Sara patted my leg, “But you have to get up and head off to teach some seven year old piano lessons, so get at ‘er!”

I let out a soft laugh, pushing the covers off of my legs as Sara left my room, shutting the door behind her so I could start to get dressed.

------------------------------

I had agreed to meet Marc for lunch after my piano lesson, and after his morning practice. My stomach was eager to have actual food in it once more, after I had deprived it the day before, and the smell of food that wafted into my nostrils as I neared the restaurant made me just about drool all over myself.

“Kaitlin!” Marc called, already waiting at a table for me. “So good to see you,” he greeted, standing up to give me his standard one armed hug. “How have you been? I already ordered some spinach and artichoke dip for you, I hope that’s okay.”

I smiled at him, sitting down. “That’s fine. And I’m fine, thanks for asking. How was practice?”

“Good for everyone but me,” he said, sighing overdramatically. “The whole team learned how to score this weekend.” He paused, thinking over what he had just said before he giggled.

I only shook my head at him, thanking the waitress as she sat down a glass of water in front of me, immediately taking a sip from it. “So, the shootout wasn’t much fun today?” I asked.

“Nah. Almost the entire team had gotten the puck in the net in the first round. There was only about seven of them left in the second. There wasn’t even a third round,” he scratched his face. “Not a good day for Flower.” He glanced back over to me, smiling slightly. “How was your day?”

I shrugged. “It was okay. Taught a little girl how to play ‘Jingle Bell Rock’ for her school’s Christmas play.”

Marc made a face. “Christmas? It’s not even November yet!”

“I know, but she wants to make sure she plays it perfectly,” I explained, shrugging. “Whatever, they pay me fifty bucks a lesson, I can teach her to play Jingle Bells.”

“Fifty dollars for Christmas music?” Marc asked, lifting up his glass of water, “You are living the life.”

“I’m sorry, did the guy who gets paid five million dollars a year but didn’t make it past round two of the shootout drill say something?” I asked, grinning at his reaction.

There was a lull in the conversation as the waitress brought over our food and we both began to eat, too entranced with the food to actually carry on a conversation.

After a few moments Marc cleared his throat, trying to swallow the mouthful of dry ribs he was eating. “So, Kris told me that you and him visited Evan’s grave?” He asked, looking up at me as he grabbed another dry rib to eat.

I nodded, a tortilla chip covered in spinach and artichoke dip half-way to my mouth. “Yeah, I was already there when he arrived.”

Marc nodded. Whether he knew more details of the visit or not, he didn’t let on. “Well, that’s good. I’m glad that you’re not holding his earlier behaviour against him.”

I nodded, chewing on my food before speaking again. “When he was in the hospital, Sid sort of had a talk with me.”

Marc laughed, “A captain Crosby talk? Uh-oh.”

“No, it wasn’t a scolding,” I said, smiling slightly. “He just talked about how he lives his life alone, to live with a mask on and push everyone away from you because you think they could never understand, and he told me that I shouldn’t live that life. I guess he wanted me to realize that Kris was struggling the same way I was, he had just been reacting differently.”

“He’s an insightful guy, that son of a bitch,” Marc said, making me laugh slightly.

When there was another pause in conversation, I looked up, catching the look on Marc’s face. “What are you thinking?” I asked, feeling a sense of worry creep into my veins. “You have that weird thinking face of yours.”

Marc grinned, leaning back a bit in his chair. “I’m just thinking that you and Kris should spend more time together. It’s obviously helping both of you, and if anyone is going to understand what you’re going through, it’s him.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “But I’m still unsure. I mean, I believe that he’s working on his issues and all that, but I can’t just overlook the fact that he was a complete ass to me right after Evan’s death.”

“No, you can’t,” Marc agreed, wiping his hands with his napkin. “But, be honest with me here, did talking to him at the cemetery making you feel better? Maybe even less alone?”

I let my eyes fall away from his face and down to the table, nodding. “It did. It was the first time since I lost Evan that I actually felt like someone was there for me, and they understood how much pain there was inside of me.”

“Then don’t push him away.” Marc instructed, looking at me with a serious look, one I didn’t often see across his face. “Everyone needs to be saved, right?”

I made a face. “What movie did you get that from?”

He grinned, pushing his empty plate away from him. “One I’m ashamed to admit I watched.” He was already digging through his wallet for his card, even though the waitress hadn’t come to collect our plates or give us the bill yet. “I’ll tell you what, tomorrow is an off-day, coach doesn’t want to overwork us with these three days off, he wants us to rest. I think you should come to my house tomorrow afternoon for our movie day. There will be a bunch of the guys and their ladies. You could see Jordan and Tyler again, you always liked them, right?”

I smirked at him. “I don’t actually have a choice in this, do I?” I asked.

“Ah, you know me so well, Katy,” He admitted, laughing slightly. “I’ll tell Kris to pick you up.”

“I have my own car, you know?” I reminded,

He shrugged, “No point in wasting your own gas. He makes a lot of money, Katy, he can drive out of his way to get you and spend a little money on gas.”

“You’re such a considerate friend,” I joked.

“Hey,” he said, pointing a finger at me, “would I pay for your lunch if I wasn’t considerate?”

“Good point,” I admitted. “But you did order for me without asking what I wanted.”

“You said that was fine!”

“That was before you were all planning a way to make Kris and I talk some more,” I pointed out.

He sighed, letting his shoulders sag down as he did so. “Fine, you also make a good point.” He smiled at the waitress as she noticed he was waiting to go, promising to bring the cheque right away. “Kris will pick you up at three. Party start at five, but you two can help me set up, since Vero can’t make it.” He patted the top of my head as he passed me to head over to the counter, where the waitress was printing off the cheque, leaving me to only shake my head at him.

No Longer Alone

I appreciate the feedback so much, so thank you for taking the time to comment. And, as one of you asked, I tried to make the update a little longer. Hopefully this isn't too cheesy, as I spent forever re-writing this part.
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It was odd to be back in the room. To sit in the oversized, brown leather chair and look across to see Dr. Bailey smiling at me from where she sat, a notebook ready in her hands, her dark hair tied into a bun. It felt as if it had been years since I had last been inside here, even though I knew it had only been just over a month.

“So, Katy,” Dr. Bailey began, smiling at me. “What would you like to talk about?”

I let out a soft laugh, picking at a loose thread on my shirt. “I have no idea. I wasn’t prepared for another appointment.”

She nodded, seeming to understand. With a soft sigh, she flipped through what I assumed to be the pages from our previous appointments, her eyes scanning over the words scribbled over the pages. “Do you still have the nightmares?”

I felt my face tighten up at the mention of them. The nightmares. The ones where Evan was alive at the beginning, but I was there when he died. I had to helplessly watch him fade from me, my body frozen in place. It wasn’t always the same scenario, either. At first, I was in the car with him when the accident occurred. I saw the other car, but I couldn’t yell to him, tell him to swerve out of the way. Sometimes he was shot, other’s he was in a hospital. It didn’t seem to matter how he was at the start of my dreams, he was gone by the end of them. They had haunted me ever night for the first three months, no matter what I did to try and deter them from my mind.

I let out a long breath of air, running my hands up and down the thighs of my jeans for a few seconds, calming myself. “Not as much. It’s been a week or so since the last one, actually.”

Dr. Bailey nodded, the same look of compassion on her face as every other appointment I had been to. “Do you think that this is because you’re moving on?”

I thought about it for a moment. “Maybe. Or maybe I’ve just been too busy with other aspects of my life. Evan was the sole focus of my thoughts for so long, even before he passed. Now, I’ve been busy with-” I paused, choosing my words carefully, “other things.”

Dr. Bailey nodded, peering at me with a look of curiosity that I had become familiar with. “Do you feel like sharing these distractions?”

I chewed on my lower lip for a brief second before choosing to chew on my thumb nail instead. I knew that she and Kris were still meeting for his therapy sessions once a week, meaning that she was already aware of Kris and Evan’s friendship. She may have even been aware of Kris and I’s past friendship. The thought of her possibly knowing about Kris’s strange feelings towards me was one I wasn’t quite ready to face, yet. I shook the worry before it could settle in and voiced a cautious answer. “A friend that I hadn’t seen in over a year has just sort of come back into my life, and I’m trying to decide how it makes me feel.”

Dr. Bailey offered a small smile. “Well, that’s what therapy is for,” she reminded me. “Tell me a little more about this friend.”

The way she enunciated “friend” worried me. She said it with a tone that understood there was no friendship behind the term in this case. It was as if she knew that I was speaking of Kris, and she was already aware of the fact that the friendship was strained, to say the least.

“Uhm, he used to be one of Evan’s best friends,” I began. “When Evan first died, he completely blamed me. He told all of our mutual friends that my neediness was the reason Evan ended up behind the wheel. He was horrible to me with the things that he would say, the looks that he would send me, the whispers behind my back. Thankfully, the hockey season started and he was gone. I threw myself into sessions with you, and his hostility became an after-thought.”

“But now he’s back?” Dr. Bailey asked, watching as I nodded. “And how does that make you feel?”

“At first it was terrifying. He still blamed me. He was never a cruel person before, he was actually one of my closest friends, and he was a never a very angry person. The change scared me, and when we first bumped into each other, the anger was still as strong as it had been when I saw him last year.” I paused, clearing my throat.

The way Dr. Bailey was looking at me made me feel sick to my stomach. She had heard this story already, just from the other perspective. The knowing glint in her eyes, the way the corners of her mouth were tugged into just the smallest hint of a smile, it gave her away. She raised her eyebrows at me, waiting for me to continue.

“But then, something changed. He apologized, he started acting nicer, he wanted to be friends again. I went to see one of his games and watched him get knocked unconscious, and it scared me. I stayed at the hospital with him all night because I needed to make sure he was okay. He keeps apologizing, and being nice, and he told me that he had wanted to date me before Evan and I became a couple, and that he was in love with me, and I’ve been so busy trying to wrap my head around how he turned his personality around so fast, that there’s no way I’ll be having those nightmares now.”

It took a moment for Dr. Bailey to process everything I had said, as I had rushed the story, left out many details, and hardly paused between words. Once she seemed to have a grasp on them, she gave her head a shake. “You said that he was one of your best friends in high school?” She watched as I nodded, agreeing. “Did you ever look at him as anything other than a friend?”

I almost laughed, now certain that she and Kris had discussed me before. “I’m not sure. I always thought he was a good looking guy, but I was always very focused when it came to school. I had all these dreams of starting my own business and knew I needed the grades to get into the right University. Evan and I becoming a couple seemed to surprise me more then it did anyone else. I had always thought of my guy friends as simply friends, which is why the night of the concert was such an epic night.”

“So you simply never felt that way towards him?” She pressed.

I shrugged. “Maybe I did. But, if he and I were supposed to be together, wouldn’t it have happened by now?”

Dr. Bailey smirked, an expression she didn’t use too often, especially with me, and set her pen down on the pad of paper. “Katy, sometimes people walk out of your life for a little while so that they can decide what part of your life they want to be in. If they find a way back in, it means they want back in.”

“I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying,” I admitted, almost feeling foolish.

Dr. Bailey only offered a small smile. “Why do you think this person is back in your life?”

“To keep things interesting?” I offered. She laughed, picking the pen up and jotting something down, causing me to eye her curiously. “Why do you think he’s back in my life?”

She looked at me as if she was already prepared for the question. “You both lost the person closest to you, right? Katy, you’ve dealt with Evan’s death in a way most people can’t. You accepted it. You struggled with nightmares, but not the kind most who lose a partner have. You didn’t dream he was still alive, you kept witnessing his passing. Maybe your friend just needs help accepting life. Loss is the loneliest experience if you give it the power to make you alone.”

I frowned. “Do all therapists talk in riddles?”

She laughed, checking her watch. “Well, Katy, I’m afraid this session is over. But I’ll see you again next week.”

I nodded, grabbing my purse off of the floor and thanking her.

---------------------------

Evan’s tombstone was a place I had only been to twice. Once for his burial, and then a few months later when it would have been our anniversary.

I’m not sure what compelled me to stop by the graveyard after my therapy session, but there I was. It was nice day out, which seemed to relax me a little more. I could barely remember where his tombstone was, and it took me a good ten minutes before I finally laid eyes on it.

It was so strange to see his name etched into the stone, with his birthday and the day that I somehow had a hard time accepting. I don’t know how I long I just stood there, staring down at it, not even noticing the graves surrounding his, or the wilted flowers that his mother had probably put there a month before. I just stared down at the grave. Eventually, my legs grew tired, and I found myself sitting on the grass, my fingers tracing along the engraving.Evan Michael Daniels: Wonderful in every aspect, loved by all who knew him, and more talented then we ever knew. He’s skating with the greatest now.”

I had always thought the epitaph his family chose was a little cheesy, but as I read over it countless times sitting on the grass, I loved it. I loved that in two simple sentences, Evan was perfectly described. He was a person that we all loved, a person who seemed to illuminate light and fill your heart with warmth. He was talented in ways that I could never comprehend or explain. It was rare that Evan wasn’t good at something. Kris often joked that he and Sidney Crosby would have been either the best of friends, or greatest of enemies. His talent as a hockey player was only beginning to develop, but he was better then he was credited for. A team like the Penguins, one filled with names that were already considered “All Stars” when they were his age, was a hard team to make right off of the bat, but the Penguins had sworn they wanted him on the team by the next season. I could remember the day he told me over the phone that Marc Recchi had complimented his skating skills. The joy in his voice that someone thought he was talented was enough to make me grin.

I must have been there for a good forty minutes before I felt a barrier break within me. The tears that I had refused to cry anymore were tired of being ignored, and I felt my body crumble with the power they held. My one hand was resting against the grave, while the other one covered my eyes. The wave of sadness rippling through me was so unexpected that I wasn’t even sure what was happening. I had accepted that Evan had passed months ago, but for some reason, as I cried against his tombstone, it felt like I was actually letting go. Sitting there, seeing his name on stone and resting in the grass with so many others forced me to acknowledge that he was truly gone. I had hidden from so much of the world for the last year and bit because of reminders that I wasn’t ready to visit yet, and as I sat somewhere towards the back part of the cemetery, I realized that I couldn’t live inside of that shell anymore. I acted more put together then it was, and maybe the reason I was at the graveyard was to show me that I needed to be put back together, that I needed help.

Dr. Bailey’s comments raced through my head as the sound of my cries drowned out the outside world.“Loss is the loneliest experience, if you give it the power to make you alone.” I had forced myself to cope alone. I had pushed so many people away, but tried to make them feel as though they weren‘t being shoved, something that Marc had called me on weeks before.

If I hadn’t been so busy crying, I probably would have laughed when I felt Kris sat down next to me, whatever he had brought with him falling beside him as he reached out and grabbed me. How he ended up there at the same time, I didn’t know. Whether it was some form of fate, or if he was here often, I didn’t know. But when he whispered, “It’s okay. I’m here,” I felt a sense of calm be placed upon me immediately, and as he tried to calm me down, completely unaware of why I was having such a breakdown.

Eventually, I managed to stop, my face bright red and my eyes probably an unflattering shade of pink. Kris let go of me once I stopped, allowing me to look at him and notice the tears in his eyes as well. “I don’t want to be alone in this anymore.”

He nodded, his attention moving from me to the tombstone. “I don’t either.” He picked up the flowers he had brought, and a small piece of paper, handing the flowers to me. “My mom always tells me to bring these so that people know I was here to see Evan.” He gestured to the wilted ones. “It’s been awhile, obviously.”

I nodded, picking up the old flowers and putting the new ones he had handed me into the vase waiting. Kris placed the tiny piece of paper in an envelope resting right behind Evan’s tombstone, awakening curiosity inside of me once more, but I didn’t question it.

For the first time since we had both lost our best friend, we sat in front of his grave. It was the first time since Evan had passed that I knew someone understood the extent of the loss. It was the first time in over a year that I wasn’t alone.

Peace Offerings

No comments on the last two. I ain't even mad.
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“You look better today” Sara observed as I walked into the kitchen the next morning.

I nodded, pouring myself a cup of coffee and adding in the sugar and cream. “I actually slept last night. Clearly, I needed it,” I replied, placing the coffee down on the table before I took a seat. “My parents were there last night.”

Sara looked as thought she was torn between laughing or feeling sympathetic for me at the sentence. She chose to give me a half smile. “Well, you’re not in jail, so I guess it went okay?”

I shrugged, running a finger around the rim of my cup. “Yeah, they were… pleasant. I mean, my dad was nice. He said he missed me, even though I don’t believe it, but then didn’t say anything while my mom bragged about how wonderful Sadie is in comparison to me. ‘Oh, your boyfriend died, you’re such a failure.’”

“You know that that’s not really how she feels,” Sara said. “I mean, your mom is crazy, yes. But I doubt she views Evan’s death as an embarrassment.”

“She doesn’t think that, necessarily. But she did make sure to mention that she always pictured me with someone more ‘professional’ anyways.” I shook my head, trying to control the anger that seethed through me at the mere mention of my family. “As if the night weren’t awkward enough, it was Kris who came over and saved me from them.” I lifted up my cup, taking a cautious sip from it. “I hate them so much. I know you’re not supposed to hate your parents, but I feel like, if something happened to them, I wouldn’t even care.”

“Hey, calm down,” Sara instructed, reaching across the table to grab my hand and give it a squeeze. “They’re probably on their way back to Quebec right now, and you won’t see or hear from them for months. Don’t get worked up about it. You know that there wasn’t a single person at Evan’s celebration that looked at them and believed that they were good parents.”

I nodded, taking in a deep breath and forcing a smile. “I’m good, I swear. I’m going to hand out more resume’s, possibly find a gym to take out my aggressions, and not worry about them.” I swore.

Sara nodded, seeming satisfied with the reply. Before a new subject could be brought up, my cell phone began to rang, causing me to leap up from the table and book it out of the kitchen and towards my room, searching through the chaos of my dresser top to find it. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hello, is this Kaitlin Fraser?”

“This is she,” I answered.

“Kaitlin, this is Caroline, I’m the receptionist for Dr. Lana Bailey. I’m just calling to confirm your appointment for tomorrow at two o’clock?”

I frowned, giving my head a shake. “No, there must be a mistake. I finished my last counselling session a couple of weeks ago.”

There was a pause on the other line before I heard a few clicks a keyboard. “Uhm, yes, I see that you finished your first year, but another appointment for you was booked this morning.”

“Well, I don’t have the money to cover anymore sessions so-”

“The expenses have already been paid for,” Caroline answered, interrupting me. “Would you like to talk to Dr. Bailey yourself? She may have sought out financial services for you if she felt more sessions were needed.”

I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Sure, that would be fine.”

I was put on hold, allowing me enough time to walk back to the kitchen, grab my coffee, tell Sara a brief recap of the call and head back into my room, taking two large gulps of my coffee before I heard Dr. Bailey.

“This is Dr. Bailey.”

“Hi, Dr. Bailey, this is Katy Fraser, I don’t know if you remember me-”

“Katy, of course I do,” she assured me. “How can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you had looked into some kind of financial aid for me? I was just called by your receptionist and informed that I have an appointment, but I didn’t book it, and I certainly cant afford it.”

There was a pause. “I did look into it, however, there was none available. Would you like me to check and see how the payment was made? If it’s financial services of some kind it will be listed.”

“Sure,” I agreed, sighing once more.

I heard a few papers rustle around before she spoke again. “Actually, the payment was made in person. It seems someone else paid for it already.”

I frowned. “Can you tell who it was?”

“I can, but they’ve requested to remain anonymous,” she replied, an amused tone seeping into her voice. “I guess I will be seeing you again, Katy. Tomorrow works?”

I was already looking for my keys, well aware of who had paid for the sessions. “I guess you will.”

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Kris answered the door with a worried look, frowning at me as I stood on his porch. “You know.”

“Of course I know,” I said, the frustration evident in my voice. “Who else could afford those sessions? I spent all of my savings on them, and I had a lot of savings, Kris. A lot.”

He sighed, running a hand through hair. “Come inside. I don’t want you yelling at me where all of my neighbours can see.”

I obliged, stepping into the house and following him into the kitchen, where he had been busy cooking himself something to eat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked. “I’m making chilli. I’ve never made it before, so it might not be edible, but if it is, you can have some.”

I shook my head. “No thank you. Besides, you’ve clearly helped me out enough.”

He sighed, shaking some chilli powder into the pot in front of him. “You said last night that your parents would not help with counselling. And I know that you would continue to go through therapy if you could afford it, and I can afford it, and I owe you, so…” he shrugged as though that settled it.

“You can’t just do things like that. Especially not after what happened last time I was here,” I said, feeling enraged again.

“I didn’t pay for the sessions because I’m trying to get anything,” Kris said, not even looking up from the chilli as he did so. “You and I both know that Evan would tell me to take care of you if he could. And that’s what I’m trying to do now,” he said, glancing up at me quickly. “Take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” he agreed. “But you shouldn’t have too. Not when there’s people that want to help.”

“What if I don’t want your help?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Kris looked at me, meeting my angry gaze. “Then that’s too bad.” He lifted up a spoonful of the chilli, taking a bite. “This isn’t too bad, are you sure you don’t want some?”

“Oh, I get an option this time?” I asked.

He sighed, looking as though he was already exhausted by the argument. “Katy, stop. I was terrible to you when Evan first died, and I owe you a lot of apologies. Please, just let me try to help.”

I was still mad, which I knew he was aware of. The tightness of my features was probably making the anger all the more evident then it was in just my voice. But I could see that there was no point. He was right in his assumption that I would have carried on with more therapy if I could have afforded it. Dr. Bailey had told me during my first session, that people who lost a “partner” generally needed two years of therapy to cope properly and accept the “harsh reality.” She had stressed that the counselling did not mean that person was forbidden from moving on or finding love somewhere else, but that it took care of the emotional vulnerability that threw so many mourners into the relationship realm sooner then they should be.

“Fine, hand me a bowl,” I agreed, ignoring the smirk that spread across his face as I stood up from my spot behind the counter. “But if this kills me-”

“You really made a dead joke after I pay so much for your therapy over Evan?” He asked, waiting to see my reaction.

I studied him for a second, seeing how desperately he wanted to smooth over the tears of our friendship, to try and have some piece of the person he was before his best friend was taken. I was tired of hating him, truthfully, and he as he waited nervously for my reaction to his joke, I realized that I wanted those pieces back, too.

“If this kills me, I am coming back to haunt you. And I’ll bring Evan, too. You can refund the therapy sessions and pay for the funeral,” I suggested, letting him scoop some chilli into a bowl for me.

Kris nodded, handing it to me with a small smile. “I guess that sounds fair.”