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You can do this. It’s just Thalia. She’ll understand better than anyone that I’m not sleeping. “I’m not sleeping. I think I’m a-afraid to sleep,” I admit, stumbling over my words for a moment. She has enough to worry about with her own recovery, and Owen’s that she doesn’t need me bothering her about this. But, it instantly feels like a weight off my shoulders.

“Okay,” she answers slowly, chewing on her bottom lip as she thinks. It’s not often I see Thalia speechless, but I guess this is one of those rare occasions. “How long has this been going on?”

“Since the accident.”

I spend most nights holding Thalia, listening to her breathing to convince myself that she’s fine. It’s that, or I stare at the ceiling until exhaustion wins over, and I sleep only out of necessity.

Concern warps Thalia’s face, and she reaches to grab my hand instinctively. “That was a month ago. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you. You’re just now starting to feel better, and Owen…” I trail off as she squeezes my hand. I want to shrug, and tell her to forget about this because it’s not a big deal. Except, I’m not sure I should. I’m exhausted pretending I’m fine.

“Sebastian, this is a relationship. I’m here for you, just like you’re there for me. It’s a two-way street.” Thalia smiles reassuringly, and a long sigh escapes me. She’s right.

“I know.”

I look up to see the remaining faint pink scar on her temple from where her stitches were. Normally it’s hidden by her hair, but it’s pulled back today into a clip leaving it visible.

“Why are you afraid to sleep?” she asks carefully, her thumb sweeping over the back of my hand, pulling me back to the conversation.

I explain every single thing to her, not leaving a shred of detail out, and Thalia listens to everything I have to say. Everything I’m afraid of, and how it relates to my parents, and I feelheard. She’s not judging me or making assumptions. She’s just listening.

I think that’s all I really want, and she knows that.

“What do you think? Should I…I don’t know. Do you think I should find a therapist?”

“Bash, I think you’re the only person who can make that decision.”

I take a deep breath, finally allowing myself to feel everything. “If you were me, would you? I don’t need you to make the decision for me, but I value what you think.”

She lifts her hand to cup my cheek, her green eyes analyzing my face. “If I were you, I would consider it. I know you don’t have feelings for Kiera anymore, but at some point, you did. What she did to you was terrible, and I don’t know if you ever really dealt with how that made you feel. I know you haven’t brought it up, but this weekendmarks a year since Mimi passed. My brain hasn’t been cooperating lately, but I wouldn’t forget that. It’s been an awful year for you, and if you’re afraid to sleep because of nightmares…I don’t think seeing a therapist would hurt. Ultimately, it’s your decision.”

“Thank you,” I say, pressing my lips to the inside of her wrist. “I think I’m going to find one. I appreciate your honesty.”

“Of course. We’ll figure this out together.”

“I love you.”

Thalia’s face lights up happily. “I love me, too, but I also love you. There’s enough room in my heart for both of us.”

“Oh good, I don’t know how I’d compete with you,” I joke, laughing easily.

We’re good together. Despite everything that’s tested us, we still found our way back to each other. There has to be a reason for that. “Will you move in with me?” I blurt out the question I had planned to hold onto for a few more months, but if life has taught me anything recently, it’s that we don’t have nearly as much time as we think we do.

Her mouth falls open in surprise, but the worst she can say is no, and Ilistenthis time.

“Woah, okay. You’re going to have to give me a second to switch gears, because my brain is still a little slow, so let me think.”

“Okay,” I agree simply. “I’m not expecting an answer today, but I wanted to let you know where I stand, and I want to come home to you every day. I’ll follow your lead, love,” I say, leaning back into the couch, fully prepared to give her as much time as she needs to think.

“Weren’t you supposed to bring home dinner, or am I making that up in my head?” Thalia asks, switching gears completely.

“It’s on the counter.”

“I really like the counters,” she says thoughtfully, and I raise an eyebrow at her, trying not to get my hopes up.

“I know.”

“And the windows are perfect…”