Chapter Six
Salis's confession hung in the air like a piece of glass.
"My mother."
The second the words left him, fear crashed through his chest. His eyes widened, and it was as if he could see the words hanging there—exposed, undeniable, impossible to take back.
His breath stuttered and his spine stiffened. His fingers clenched around the water bottle with force.
He looked at Lael and recoiled, taking his hand from his grasp. Salis pushed himself out of the chair too fast, stumbling slightly. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered, voice shrinking. "I shouldn't—I'm sorry—I didn't mean—"
"Salis—" Lael stood, reaching out instinctively. Salis shrank away, his heart hammering. Panic sharpened his movements, panic born from childhood instincts carved too deep into bone.
His mind raced, a million thoughts surfacing at once:
You said too much.
You don't talk about that.
You don't burden people.
You don't show weakness.
You don't let anyone see you.
You don't trust anyone.
His mother's voice layered over his own thoughts until we couldn't tell which was which.
"I didn't mean to—" he stammered again, shaking. "I didn't mean to say that. Please forget it. I shouldn't have—I shouldn't talk about her behind her back." His hands were trembling violently now. Tears gathered in his eyes, not falling yet, but close—too close.
Lael took one slow step forward. "Salis… you didn't do anything wrong."
Salis shook his head hard. "Please—just forget it, okay? Pretend I didn't say anything."
"I can't do that," Lael told him quietly.
Salis winced as if the words physically struck him.
His breath hitched again—a small, broken sound escaping his throat. "Please… please don't look at me like that."
Lael's voice softened even further. "Like what?"
"Like you… care."
The word cracked him open. And then he broke. The tremble in Salis's shoulders turned into a full-body shake, as if years of restraint had suddenly reached their limit. He pressed his hands to his face, trying to hide, trying to breathe but failing at both. A sob choked out—soft, desperate, terrified.
"Salis," Lael whispered, stepping closer, slow as dawn. "You're safe. I promise."
Salis shook his head behind his hands. "No—no, I'm not—I'm not supposed to… I can't—"
"You can," Lael murmured. "You're allowed to fall apart. Right here. Right now."
That made Salis cry even harder. Silent tears streamed down from between his fingers, shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Lael moved carefully, gently lowering himself in front Salis, staying at eye level, waiting for Salis to give even the slightest sign he wanted contact.
"Salis," he breathed. "Look at me."
Salis shook his head again, sobbing quietly. "I can't—you'll think I'm… weak."
"I don't," Lael said instantly, without hesitation. "Not for a second."
"My mother—she said—" Salis choked on the memory, words dissolving into tears.
"Whatever she told you… whatever she made you believe… it wasn't true."
Salis lowered his hands slowly, tears streaking his cheeks, expression crumpled and raw. Lael's heart broke at the sight.
"You're not weak," Lael said tenderly. "You're not wrong. And you aren't a burden."
Salis sobbed, his breath shaking. He leaned back against the wall, drained and defeated by the intensity of it all. He collapsed to the floor and Lael quickly squatted, sitting close. Salis curled inward, hiding his face against his knees.
"Lael…" he whispered, voice barely audible. "I don't know how to stop feeling like this."
Lael exhaled softly, a warm, steady presence beside him. "You don't have to know. Not right away. I'll help you." Salis's breath trembled again, but the panic in it was easing—slowly, but unmistakably.
"I'm right here," Lael whispered.
The break room was quiet now, only filled with the sound of Salis's uneven breathing. His hands twitched, one of them hovering near Lael's arm. He lingered there before retreating, biting his lip and staring at the floor. He wished he could ask for what he needed without speaking. But the words wouldn't come.
He tried to pull back entirely, curling tighter into himself, but something inside him ached for warmth, for safety, for proof.
Slowly, hesitantly, his fingers brushed Lael's sleeve. It was tiny, almost imperceptible. A whisper of a touch. Lael didn't speak, didn't move, as he waited for further confirmation.
Salis drew a shaky breath, and, with another inch of courage, he pressed the back of his hand gently against Lael's forearm.
Lael's lips curved into a soft, reassuring smile. His voice was quiet and soothing. "It's okay. I'm here." He reached a hand up, carefully placing it on the top of Salis's head.
Salis closed his eyes, leaning his head slightly against Lael. The pressure of the touch, so small and unobtrusive, grounding him in a way words couldn't. For the first time since the flashback had hit, he felt the shaking in his chest slow just a bit.
He didn't speak. He didn't need to.
Minutes passed like that. No judgment, not insistence. Just silent comfort.
Finally, Salis whispered, "Thank you…"
Lael nodded. "Anytime," he said softly. "I'm not going anywhere."
The trembling in Salis's hands hadn't stopped completely. He sat on the floor, legs crossed, eyes downcast, his cheeks still streaked with tears. Lael watched him quietly for a moment, waiting, before slowly reaching for the water bottle on the table and holding it out.
"Here," he told him softly. "Just a sip. That's all."
Salis's fingers hovered above it, hesitating. His pride—the years of learned self-restraint—fought him. But Lael's calm presence made it easier. Carefully he took the bottle, lips brushing against it as he drank a tiny sip.
Lael kept his voice low and steady. "Good. That's perfect. Just like that."
Salis exhaled shakily, letting a little of the tension leave his shoulders. Lael leaned against the wall beside him, trying not to crowd.
"Here, try this with me," he told Salis softly. "Breathe in slowly. Count to four. One… two… three… four…"
Salis mimicked him, trembling through each count. Lael continued, patient and unhurried. "And out. Four… three… two… one…"
After several rounds, Salis's breathing began to even out. He finally looked up at Lael, his voice quiet.
"Thank you," he told him again.
"You don't need to thank me," Lael chuckled, his eyes gentle. "You're okay."
Salis nodded, tentatively, letting himself rest against the wall just a little more, feeling the ground beneath him—solid, safe, and real.
Suddenly, Lael stood up, making Salis jump.
"Oops. I'm sorry," Lael said, offering a small smile. "Give me just a second. I'll be right back."
Salis nodded, watching him leave as he closed the door behind him.
Looking down at the bottle still in his hands, he slowly unscrewed the cap, allowing himself to take another small drink.
The cool water felt good against his throat. Closing it back, he placed the bottle against his forehead, shutting his eyes. He hadn't realized just how hot he was.
Just then, Lael came back in, his apron now gone as he grabbed his jacket and walked back over to Salis.
"Grab your things," he told him, as he helped Salis from the ground. "I talked to Mara and told her that you weren't feeling well, so she says I can walk you home! She'll take care of things until I get back."
Salis furrowed his brows.
"You didn't have to do—"
"Don't worry. You can still come in tomorrow."
"I… I can get home by myself," Salis muttered as they stepped outside into the evening chill.
Lael glanced at him, voice soft but firm. "I know you can. But I want to walk with you. Just to make sure you get there safely."
Salis hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. But he didn't argue. Not tonight. Not when the fatigue still weighed heavy in his limbs.
They walked side by side in silence as the street lamps just started to flicker on. Lael kept his pace steady, letting Salis set the rhythm.
After a few blocks, Salis slowed, faltering slightly. Lael immediately reached a hand out and Salis allowed it this time. He glanced up, eyes meeting Lael's for just a second. His lips twitched, almost a smile. "It's… a little easier now."
Lael's gaze softened. "Good. That's all I want."
By the time they reached Salis's apartment building, Lael had asked to exchange number and Salis allowed it.
He stayed until Salis unlocked the door, making sure he stepped inside safely.
"Good night, Salis," Lael said quietly. "Feel better soon."
"Good night," Salis replied, looking down as he retreated into his home.
Lael hesitated for a moment, then added, "And… you don't have to go through any of this alone. Not anymore."
Salis didn't answer, just gave a small nod, the faintest acknowledgment that he understood. And maybe he could learn to trust someone again.