Bet on It (29)

Her words felt like a punch to the sternum. She hadn’t done a perfect job of raising him, they could both acknowledge that. But he hadn’t done a perfect job of being there for her either. She was right. For as little family as he had, Gram had about the same amount. Her husband was long dead, her only son may have been sober, finally, but he was as distant as distant could get, and the grandson she’d raised had all but cut her out of his life. Walker knew his feelings were valid. He had a right to be angry about the help he’d gone so long without. But he loved her.

For all she hadn’t done to help him, there were a million things she had. She never flinched when she found him sleeping on the floor of his closet. Whenever things got too rough that he couldn’t deal, she pulled him out of school for a few days without a word. In the end, she’d always been there for him. Even when she complained about not seeing him enough or him not visiting, it was always with a certain lightness. Like she was telling him subliminally that asking for her forgiveness wasn’t necessary because he’d never need it. He’d never been forced to hear the pure devastation in her voice when she brought up the state of their relationship. Whatever real grief she felt, she did a good job of hiding it. All so he didn’t have to acknowledge that he was hurting her too. It fucking sucked. It made self-loathing color every part of his vision.

His original plan had been to leave Greenbelt behind, not his Gram. At first, he hadn’t. His first year at school, they’d spoken on the phone damn near every day. But the more distance he put between him and his hometown, the longer he had to come into himself without the constant outside stressors weighing him down, the harder it got to keep up with her. When he started therapy and learned that his issues with Greenbelt were intertwined with his family issues, he’d found himself stumped. Torn between feeling eternally grateful to her for taking him in and raising him and feeling the brunt of the damage caused when she allowed him to flounder in his trauma without any real help, he had pulled away.

That struggle became his proof that counseling wasn’t a cure-all for his issues. He also had to be willing to tackle them, and this was one that he hadn’t been open to taking on in the past. He didn’t even know if he was willing now. All he knew was that something had to give. For both of them.

“I want you to know me,” he admitted, laying his body down across the couch, his head in her lap. Even impaired, one of her hands immediately moved to stroke his hair. It was familiar, comforting. Back when she’d seen him suffering from something she couldn’t put a name to, this had been the only way she knew how to calm him. But they’d lost this too somewhere along the way. “I just wanted you to know that it … it hurts me that you’re friends with someone who hurt me.”

Gram’s hand stilled, her eyes free of tears but no less distraught. She stared down at him, taking in every inch of his face like it was the first time she was seeing him—or maybe the last.

“I never want to hurt you, baby,” she said quietly. “I’ve only ever wanted to protect you, to make up for those times I couldn’t.”

He went to speak, and she put a finger against his lips and kept talking.

“I know I didn’t do a perfect job. I should have done more for you. I knew it then, and I know it now. You needed help, and I thought my love was enough to make you better, and it wasn’t. It just wasn’t. I can understand why you … why you hate bein’ around me.”

Walker’s hand was cupping her cheek before he could even fathom his own actions. “I don’t hate bein’ around you, Gram. I love you more than anythin’. It’s just hard when we have all this … stuff between us. This stuff we never talk about. I never know if it’s safe to tell you how I feel or to talk about my problems. I don’t want to make you feel bad and I don’t want to make you think that I’m not grateful, that you’re not the most important person in my life. I just … I don’t know how to connect with you anymore.”

She nodded, understanding written across her face. The relief made his cheeks flush. He felt like a child again. Safe and warm and comforted in her arms. Tucked away from everything bad and wrong and scary he had ever felt. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this.

“Well, we’re not dead yet, Wally. We have time to get it right. I have time to get it right.”

His throat was thick, and his eyes were full. When the tears started to escape at the corners, she wiped them away.

“We can get it right,” he choked out. “We have to.”





Chapter 10


Dr. Sharp’s face was pixelated through the screen of Aja’s computer. The older woman sat at her desk, shelves of books stacked high behind her. With her salt-and-pepper locks gathered in a ponytail at the nape of her neck and her glasses on the bridge of her nose, she looked like she always did but pixelated. Kind and open but ready to throw down.

After their initial greeting, they sat in silence. Aja knew she was the only one who found that silence awkward. Dr. Sharp was patient as always. But if Aja didn’t speak up soon and say what was weighing on her mind, the other woman would have no choice but to use her counselor magic to get her to open up.

“So…” Aja cleared her throat, tucking a braid behind her ear. “I had a pretty good week actually.”

Dr. Sharp smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. Did anything special happen?”