Look After Me by Elena Matthews Page A

softness of her fingers running through my hair, and the comforting sensation is enough to calm my senses, making my howling cries come to a stop. I pull my face away from her chest—which is now soaked with my hot tears—and look up at her. Embarrassed by my breakdown, I go to speak, but her words beat me to it.
    “I could always see the pain in your eyes, but I had no idea how intense that pain was until now. I’m so glad you finally found an outlet for it. Pain can only be held in for so long before it needs to escape. I think this was the escape you needed.”
    “So you don’t think I’ve suddenly turned into a girl?”
    She’s still running her fingers through my hair and for some strange reason I don’t want her to stop. It feels pretty incredible. “No, absolutely not. Acknowledging pain doesn’t make you weak and it certainly doesn’t make you any less of a man. This whole stereotype about how a man shouldn’t show his emotions is utter bullshit. Truthfully, crying can be a therapeutic experience. It can help cleanse the soul, which evidently gives you the power to begin moving forward. How do you feel now?”
    I take a moment to evaluate my current state. Amazingly, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. The constant ache in my chest is still there, but I feel lighter than I did.
    “I can breathe a little better now, I guess.”
    She smiles down at me, but the smile is quickly followed by a frown. “You said that you get the feeling that life would be better off without you. Is that what you really think?”
    Her words hit me hard, and I find myself pulling away from her hold and standing on my own two feet. Turning away from her, I lean over the breakfast bar and close my eyes. A shuddering breath escapes when I feel Addison’s touch against my bicep.
    “You can talk to me,” Addison says in a soft voice. Her sincerity gives me the distinct impression that she means that as my friend, not as my counselor.
    I turn, letting out a breath of air. “I sometimes think that life would be a lot easier if I weren’t around.”
    “Well, I don’t agree with that statement at all. You have a daughter who loves you and a sister who would go to the ends of the earth for you. That’s all that matters. As for your pain, it will get easier. You might not think that now, but I promise in time the world around you won’t seem as heavy and the darkness will eventually fade. They say there is always light at the end of the tunnel, but you have to crawl through the darkness to be able to see the light. This here is you crawling through the darkness. But I can see the light approaching. You just have to fight a little harder to get there.”
    Her words leave me speechless and it’s taking every last bit of restraint not to slam my lips onto hers.
    “Hell, you’re a soldier. It’s in your blood to fight. If you treat your recovery like a military mission, soon you’ll be basking in the light. We just need to get your life back on track. I think we need a plan.”
    “A plan?”
    “Yeah, a life plan. Something we can aim for to help you get to your happy place again.” I like how she says we. It’s as if we’re in this together. A team. It’s comforting.
    “Okay, so I’ve already established you want more time with your daughter, and that you want joint custody of her. What else do you want out of life?” She walks around the island and takes a seat on the bar stool, never once taking her eyes from me.
    “A job.”
    “What do you want to do?”
    “That’s the thing, I have no idea.” I sigh. “I was with the Army for twelve years. It’s all I’ve ever known.”
    She nudges a little closer, her elbows resting on the countertop. “Well, focus on your military skills and place them within an everyday job. I can’t imagine you want to sit in an office for eight hours a day. With your military background, you’ll probably want something with stimulation.” Her use of the word