“Megan? Dad’s friend you always invite to Thanksgiving?” My stomach turned.
I had met this woman countless times, and I never knew who she was. And what did she mean, Dad saw a therapist? Since when? I opened my mouth to ask, then closed it. That was none of my business. If my father needed help, I wasn’t about to judge him. I was proud of him.
Mom squeezed my shoulder. “Dad doesn’t talk to her nearly as much these days. He’s doing a lot better. Sometimes, and only sometimes, he just needs a little encouragement and someone to listen to him in ways I can’t. I could ask him to reach outto Megan for you. If you’re okay with that. If you want to find someone of your own, I completely understand.”
I knew it would be good for me. I needed to talk to someone about what was going on inside my head. I wanted to get better. It had been a thought of mine for years. I was scared to ask for help. Terrified that someone would judge me for wanting to get better. Or worse. Judge me for what I had become.
“Hey.” Mom tilted my head up. “You can say no, Reed. You can find someone else who you feel more comfortable talking to. Just know that Megan can’t tell us anything about what you discuss with her. It’s the law.”
I nodded and brushed the tears from my cheeks. “I’m scared. What if she thinks I’m a terrible mess and doesn’t want to help me? Or what if I’m too sick, and she has to admit me to the hospital? I can’t do that, Mom. I’m not strong enough. I can’t survive there.”
“You’re not a mess.”
“I feel like one.”
Mom reached over to pull me into another hug. “Sweetie, you’re not. If you don’t want to go into the hospital, you don’t have to do that either. You simply need to talk to her, tell her what’s going on, and she can help you figure things out.”
I started to cry again. Loud, angry sobs that shook my body. I felt like a failure. Like I wasn’t a good son, boyfriend, or friend. If I could simply get my head out of my ass, I could be the person everyone needed me to be. Getting a hold of this eating disorder would be the first step in that direction. When I was all cried out, my eyes burned, my throat raw, and my body exhausted, I pulled away.
“Feel better?” Mom asked.
I nodded. “A little bit.” Although I wanted to take a shower, put on my pajamas, and curl up in bed. Maybe sleep for a week.
“A good cry always helps me feel better, too.” Mom gave me a sad smile. “Although it’s been a while since I’ve done that.”
I tried to match the smile, but my lips wouldn’t move. “Can you ask Dad to call her? Megan, I mean. And see if she can see me.”
“I can do that,” Mom assured me. She cupped my head in her soft hands and searched my face. “I’m proud of you, Reed. For the man you’ve become. For chasing your dreams. There is nothing you can do that will ever disappoint me or your father. We love you.”
That brought on another round of tears, ones that made me feel guilty for not telling my parents about my eating disorder earlier. And then I thought of Cole. The boy I’d loved since I was sixteen years old. I had hurt him, too. I needed to fix that if I wanted to be with him.
“I think I’m going to go shower,” I told my mother once I was cried out again. I felt mentally and emotionally exhausted.
Mom nodded. “Is there anything you need? Something you’d like for dinner? Or do you want me to just leave you be for now?”
“Chicken Parmesan.” I hadn’t had that in years. It had always been my favorite meal, and Mom made a great one. “But please don’t leave.” I didn’t want to be alone.
Mom kissed my forehead. “Chicken Parmesan it is.”
Chapter Thirty
Cole
Iwas miserable for the next couple of days. Walking through the townhouse like I was in mourning. Maybe I was. Maybe I was mourning what could have been with Reed. For a second time. Feeling like this time, things weren’t going to work out. Because if Reed didn’t trust me enough to let me in on his darkest secret, then he would ever trust me at all. All I wanted was for him to let me in. Because I loved him. I would do anything for him. Couldn’t Reed see that?
“Hey.” Wyatt nudged my arm. “You with us today? You need another day off? Or can you handle this? We don’t want to make things worse for you.”
I hadn’t even realized I had zoned out. It shouldn’t come as a surprise. I did that at home, too. Oscar would wave a hand in front of my face or clap them together to get my attention. He didn’t push me to talk about it. He had his own secrets. The hickey on his neck was evidence of that. I figured it was probably Tate. They had always flirted around that part of their relationship. And I was happy for them. My uncle and my best friend. But it hurt, too. Because the love of my life had been so close, and I let him get away. Again.
I plastered a smile on my face. “I’m fine.” Lie number one.
“Oh, yeah? How are things with Reed?” Wyatt grinned as he finished putting on his gear. He tilted his head as he waited for my answer.
I tried to smile, but I felt like I was going to come across as a serial killer. “Fine.” Lie number two.
“Mm, okay, sure.” Wyatt rolled his eyes. “A little birdie told me that he slept at the hospital with you. But the way you’re acting now, it doesn’t seem like it worked out the way you had hoped.” He leaned closer. “I’m here for you, Cole. As your friend, not your captain. You can talk to me if you need to.”
I assumed that little birdie was someone in the WAGs group. Dean was part of that group, too, but I didn’t think he would be spreading rumors. He wasn’t a big gossip, but if he had told Killian...