He Holds Me–2
A flash of headlights. The violent sound of metal crunching.
I close my eyes, trying to steady myself, to push it all back down.
When I open them again, Zaid is watching me. His brows are slightly furrowed, concern etched into his features. His hand comes to rest on my waist, and he pulls me close to
him.
“Are you okay?” he asks, voice low enough that the others don’t hear.
I nod quickly, too quickly. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
But I can tell he calls bullshit.
Jake and Aiden are too busy bickering to notice as Zaid takes my hand in his, squeezing gently before leading me out of the kitchen. I follow him wordlessly, my breath unsteady as he guides me to his room, closing the door behind us.
It’s, only when we’re alone that I finally crack.
The weight of it all crushes me at once. A choked sob escapes before I can stop it, and suddenly, I’m crumbling.
Zaid takes the mug from my hands and places it on his desk before holding me tight against his chest. “I’ve got you.”
My entire body shakes as I sob.
“I’ve got you.”
The words unravel me further. I hold on to him, my fingers brushing over the scars on his torso,and the violent need to word vomit hits me. I pull away, his hands on my cheeks as
he watches me.
“I caused it,” I finally whisper, my voice barely audible.
Zaid blinks at me. “What?”
“On Valentine’s day.”
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He Holds Me–2
Realization crosses his features, and he closes his eyes. “Shit, love.”
I inhale sharply, forcing the words out before I lose the courage. “My dad took us out that morning. Breakfast, then the store to get flowers for my mom–just-”
My throat closes up. Zaid’s hold on me tightens.
I force myself to continue. “I distracted dad. It was my fault. I should have just left Alex alone. We rolled.”
A sob breaks free, and Zaid holds me closer, his hand rubbing slow circles on my back.
“Alex wasn’t wearing his seatbelt.” My voice shatters on the last word, and I break down
completely.
Zaid doesn’t say anything. He walks us to the edge of his bed where we sit.
He just holds me as I fall apart, as years of grief and guilt come crashing over me.
“It was my fault-”
“No, no. Don’t say that,” he says, voice soft and yet determined.
“I killed them.” 2
He pulls back, anger in his eyes. He cups my face, making sure I look directly at him. His eyes are dark, intense. Burning.
“Don’t you dare say that.” His voice is rough, almost angry, but not at me. At the thought. At the weight I’ve been carrying for years.
I shake my head, trying to look away, but he doesn’t let me. His grip is firm but gentle, his fingers tilting my chin back up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
“Things happen. You didn’t choose for that to happen. It was an accident.” His jaw clenches, his throat working like the words physically hurt him.
I want to yell at him that he doesn’t understand. But he does. Finally, for once, someone
does.
“You’ve been carrying this guilt for so long, and you shouldn’t have to. You didn’t kill
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He Holds Me–2
them, love.”
My lips tremble. The memories are so strong, so suffocating, and the guilt has lived inside me for so long that I don’t know how to exist without it.
Zaid sees it. He sees the war happening inside of me, and instead of letting me spiral, he pulls me back against him, his arms locking around me.
His voice is softer now, but just as steady. “You loved them. They loved you. And they wouldn’t want you to do this to yourself.”
His lips press against the top of my head, lingering there as his grip on me remains unyielding. I break then, fully and completely.
And Zaid? He holds me.
