Page 101 of Crossing Arizona

He’s gone, he’s gone, he’s gone.

All he ever wanted was for me to love him back the same way he loved me, and I drove him away.

And now I’ll never see him again.

My lungs seize, a sharp spasm that leaves me gasping for air. I’m hyperventilating, and no matter how hard I try to pull in a breath, it feels like there’s a hole in my chest where Xed used to be. The pain of his absence is as real, as sharp as losing a limb.

Before I can spiral further, Mom and Jenna are there, pulling me into their arms, crushing me between them. Their strength breaks something inside me that I’ve been holding together with frayed threads.

I let go. Months—no, years—of grief, guilt, and anger come flooding out, ripping through me in a storm of sobs and shaking breaths. For Hannah’s sake, for Xed’s, I’ve held it all in, shoved it deep down where no one could see. But now it’s too much. I can’t keep carrying it on my own.

Mom’s hand strokes my back while Jenna’s grip tightens like she’s afraid I’ll fall apart completely. I feel like I already have.

“You’re not alone, Matty,” Mom whispers, but I feel alone.

I feel hollow. Because the one person who’s always been there for me—who’s always understood me—isn’t here. And it’s my fault.

“What do I do?” I sob, trying to get my blubbering under control when the woman in the next booth leaves with a huff. “I don’t know how to fix this. Xed hates me.”

Jenna shakes her head quickly. “No, he doesn’t. He asks about you all the time. I thought he was just being a worrywart. He still cares about you, bro.”

Wiping my face with my hand, I pull away and blink at her through watery eyes. “He… he ended things between us. Said he didn’t want to be my friend anymore because I didn’t know what I wanted.”

My sister’s gaze sharpens on me. “And do you now?”

Her question cuts deep. I shrug, swallowing hard against the lump rising in my throat. “I just want him,” I whisper. “I’ve always wanted him. I’ve just been…scared.”

“Of?”

That’s such a loaded question. “At first, it was the team in college and what they’d do to me if they knew. To us. And then it was how the world would treat Hannah, what would happen if I got kicked from the NFL. It’s not just myself I have to worry about.”

Jenna nods slowly, processing my answer as she sips her drink. “Let me ask you another question. Say the worst happens, and you lose your career over loving him. Then what?”

“Well,” I blow out a ragged breath, “I’d deal with it. It would be hard, but I’d...I’d have Xed.”

“Exactly," she says. "And isn’t that worth the risk? You can’t play football forever. Either age or injury will force you to quit, and then you just grow old, sad, and lonely. Wouldn’t you rather risk it all for the chance to have him at your side?”

Of course, I would. But she’s not understanding what I’m trying to say, and it brings fresh tears of frustration to my eyes. “It’s not that simple, I’ve got to think about Hannah—"

“Oh, give it a damn rest, Matthew!” Mom’s hand thumps firmly against my back, jolting me in surprise. “Hannah will always be okay. She’s got me, your father, and your sister. All of your friends would go to war for that girl. You need to think about yourself for a change and do what makes you happy because being happy is what will ultimately make Hannah happy. Choose Xed. Tell him how you feel.”

“But I don’t know how!” The words burst out of me, louder than I meant, and I feel like a complete idiot for falling apart in the middle of a doughnut shop. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Jenna offers me her arm. “Well, first, let’s start with that snot bubble,” she says, grimacing when I wipe my nose on her sleeve. “And second, if you can’t say it, show it. Show him what he means to you.”

“Have you ever thought about talking to someone?” Mom asks suddenly, and I glance at her with a frown.

“Talking to who?”

She rolls her eyes, setting down her coffee mug with a thud. “A therapist, honey. You’ve been carrying these thoughts around for years, and it’s not getting better. I mean, I love you, but you can’t keep bottling everything up and hoping it’ll go away. It’s okay to need help, you know.”

With a sniffle, I lean back in my chair. “What, you think I’m broken or something?”

“No,” she says firmly. “I just want you to feel better. Maybe both you and Hannah should see someone.”

The words hit me like a brick, and I look down at my hands, tears springing to life again. “You think Hannah needs therapy?!”

Jenna sighs heavily, stuffing a napkin into my hand. “Therapy isn’t a bad word, dude. Everyone needs it sometimes, and it’s okay. You’ve both been through a lot, especially with the custody case, and I’m sure she’s feeling a lot of things just like you are. I can recommend someone.”