"And you still went to her. Because that's who you are, Kayden. You show up. You care. Even when it costs you." Mateo stands, collecting the empty food containers. "I just wish Andrea appreciated that instead of making you feel guilty for needing space to process what she did."
The words sink in, mixing with the scotch, with the exhaustion, with the bone-deep weariness of holding himself together while feeling like he's slowly fracturing from the inside out.
"Thanks for coming by," Kayden says, because he doesn't know what else to say.
"Anytime. That's what friends are for." Mateo pauses at the door. "And Kayden? Whatever you decide about Andrea, about your relationship—make sure you're choosing what's best for you. Not what's easiest for her."
Then he's gone, and Kayden is alone again with his thoughts and his scotch and the slow, insidious poison of Mateo's words taking root in his mind.
