Instead, I just shook my head. "Nothing," I said softly. "Just tired."
He didn't press further, but I could feel his eyes on me, could sense the concern radiating off him. I hated that I was causing him worry, that my inability to be honest was creating a rift between us, even if it was only small. But the truth was, I didn't know how to be honest, not about this. Not when the fear was so all-consuming, so overwhelming.
As we sat there, the weight of my thoughts pressing down on me, I realized that no matter how much I wanted to fight for us, no matter how much I wasn't ready to say goodbye, I couldn't do it alone. I needed him, needed his strength, his support.
But I didn't know how to ask for it, didn't know how to let him in.
And that scared me more than anything.
