Willow gave me a soft smile. “It’ll be the hardest thing you ever have to do. But, I promise, it will be worth it. Don’t give up. Work through the pain, the physical and mental, lean on your friends, take things one step at a time.”
My head dropped into my hands. “I feel like I’ve let my entire family down.”
“What do you mean?” asked Willow.
“I was going to be the third generation in my family to join the Air Force. The seventh Milner to serve my country.”
“That’s a lot to process, but I doubt they think you let them down, Grace.”
“And Emmett.”
Willow tensed for a split second, then rubbed her hand up and down my back. I hadn’t told her much about him, other than he’d died last year.
“I wanted to do this for Emmett.” Tears stung, and my hand ached. “To honor his memory.”
Tears welled in my eyes and spilled over to my cheeks.
“Oh, honey.” She rubbed my back. “You can still do something in his honor. You weren’t going to go on to be a fighter pilot like him, but pararescue. You chose that for a reason, right?”
I sniffled. “I wanted to save people’s lives.”
“What about becoming an EMT or a nurse or a doctor? You could still save people’s lives.”
Could I really do any of that with a busted-up hand?
“Not to mention, you’re a full-fledged track star. Maybe that could help you get into a school for next year?” Willow picked at a loose thread on her shirt. “Without hockey, I wouldn’t be heading to the University of Boston in the fall.”
“It’s kind of late for that…”
“It might be late, but it’s not impossible.” Willow placed her hand on top of mine and gave it a squeeze. “Seriously, Grace. It’s not. It might feel like it right now. Hell, I bet everything feels impossible, heavy, and…dark.”
“Damn, girl…you’re good.”
“I’ve seen some shit, Grace. But know this: I’m here for you. You’re not alone. You are strong! And most of all, you are loved.”
I began sobbing.
Willow pulled me into a big hug. “It’s going to be okay, Grace. I promise.”
I wanted to tell her thank you, but my throat was so thick, I couldn’t spit any words out. But I was thankful for her. For her words. For being here. She was a really good friend.
We sat on the bench in silence for a long time. It felt surreal, like I was in some kind of alternate dimension. One where my old life had died and my new life was a blank canvas, one filled with the unknown.
“You know,” Willow said slowly, “Preach has been really worried about you.”
That snapped me back to reality. Images of his face outside the clinic when I had walked out flashed in my mind. His shock. His sadness. The rush of hurt I felt because of him swarmed through my chest and squeezed my heart.
“He feels terrible about everything.”
My head swirled with mixed emotions.
“If you don’t want to talk about him, we don’t have to. I just thought you should know.”
“I appreciate it.” I closed my eyes and thought about the boy I had fallen for…the boy I thought Iloved.
“Do you think talking to him would help you process things?” Willow asked.
I shrugged. “Maybe? But I don’t know how we could ever move forward, so what’s the point?”