TWENTY-NINE

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"What's wrong, baby?"

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"What's wrong, baby?"

Jesse pulled me back into his chest as I stared off at the blank wall in front of me. I hadn't said anything for almost ten minutes, lost in a world of nothing.

It was the first time in my life I'd felt absolutely nothing at all.

"I'm fine," I mumbled, running my hand down his forearm so he could sense some movement from my side. I was beginning to wonder if he thought I was dead. "Just tired."

"Do you want me to leave you alone so you can get some sleep?"

I shook my head. "I can't sleep." I didn't think the symptoms of trauma could manifest so quickly, but every time I closed my eyes, the impact replayed before my eyes, not waiting to appear in my dreams at night.

"I have something to help you if you need it." When I widened my eyes, he chuckled and recovered with, "It's not some illicit drug."

I let out an airy laugh in return. "No, I don't want anything. I don't even know if I'm really tired."

We said nothing once more, each lost in our own worlds. I winced when he tightened his arm around my waist. He loosened his grip with a million apologies. Maybe I hated this situation even more because everyone was treating me like a fragile doll when all I wanted was some goddamn space.

"Do you think you might want to talk to someone?" He placed a kiss on the far side of my cheek, pulling me closer to him. "It can help."

I turned my head backwards to face him. "Like who?"

"Maybe a therapist."

"Therapy is useless. I'll try a priest or something."

"Whatever you think works." He was trying his hardest to be supportive, but I could tell his patience was wearing thin. I imagined he thought we'd be doing something more productive than lying in his bed when he had invited me over. "Colin means a lot to you, doesn't he?"

His accusatory tone rubbed me the wrong way, firing up all my defenses. "I don't think watching a car slam into a close friend and then having to deal with the consequences would make anyone happy—whether or not he meant anything to me."

"That's not what I meant, Hanna," he sighed, loosening his hold. "God, you don't have to be so insufferable all the time."

I sat up and whirled around, a loud puff of air escaping my nose. "I'm not being insufferable, Jesse. I'm just not in the best state of mind right now. I can go back home if my distress bothers you so much." I knew I was hovering on the edge of impertinent, but I was bubbling with wrath on the inside.

If only I could have felt it.

"No, don't go."

He grabbed on to the wrong part of my waist when I tried to leave, leaving me to fall against the mattress in pain. Tears found my eyes again, the only emotional expression that was semi-functioning. Too bad no satisfaction followed a crying session these past few days—just hollowness.

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