Salty

Thirty | The Sympathy Muffin

⚠️ Trigger Warning: This chapter will be graphic in regard to suicide.

A/N: If you feel this chapter will trigger you, please skip it. The gist of it is that Ollie is broken because of this incident and feels like it is his fault.

Always remember that you are loved, you would be missed, and that help is available to those who need it:

Suicide Prevention Hotline:
1-800-273-8255
www.suicidepreventionlifeline.org

To Write Love on Her Arms:
www.twloha.com

Thirty | Sloan

The wind refused to let up. Round two of last night's snowfall had started, and the combination of the two was now sending drifts of snow across acreage that looked like waves of white. It was hard to walk, and there were times I wondered if my feet were on the ground or if the wind was in control. So long as it kept me toward the swinging barn door, I could handle falling on my ass a few times to get there.

My heart sank the moment the words left Mikah's mouth. In fact, I couldn't bring myself to speak a word for a good five minutes, because what was someone supposed to say? Sorry for your loss? I knew firsthand it didn't help. It felt weird to be on the other side of it when there was a room filled with tears for someone I had never met. I didn't make Mikah go into detail, but what little he offered after the confession regarding their dad was that Ollie was alone on the farm the day he found him, and Ollie has refused to come home ever since. It didn't take rocket science to piece it all together after that. His nightmares and lost sleep all stemmed from that day, and in particular, the barn that he had holed himself up in all morning.

How could I have missed the signs Ollie was hurting this badly? Shouldn't I, if anyone, have caught it? Ollie never offered more information on his dad than what was necessary, and that was the same with the men I worked with at Mulligan's. It was easy to tell that Henry Mulligan was loved by everyone who knew him, but no one spoke about him unless they had to. And for all the comments that Ollie had made about him, I knew he'd lost his idol the day his dad died.

With my hands full, tears frozen to my neck, and crunchy snow beneath my feet, I had to finish crying before reaching the double doors. The sympathy for Ollie needed to be left outside with this snowstorm, because I understood how much it hurt to see someone else hurt because of your own shortcomings with depression. It's not supposed to rub off, but it does.

Now standing outside the door that looked like it could blow away at any moment, I pressed my face into the blanket from Kit's bed to dry my face of the mess I'd made. After a deep breath, I pulled the door that was still attached to both hinges and entered the barn.

It looked massive from the outside, but with many pieces of farm equipment being stored here, it wasn't as big as I thought it would be. The slamming behind me caused me to jump and gasp. It didn't seem to stir Ollie, if he was in here somewhere. The smell of winter's fresh snow and pine was now left on the other side of the door. My nostrils were flooded with the smell of rotten wood, hay, leather, and outdated fuel. I had a feeling that the vintage red tractor I was maneuvering around was the culprit of some sort of fuel leak. With the day being overcast and gray, the windows gave minimal light to figure out where I was going, but it didn't matter. It didn't take long to find him.

Sitting along the only portion of the wall that had space available, Ollie—who appeared freezing even though he was in his coat and hat—sat with his knees drawn to his chest. His muscular arms were wrapped around them, shaking from the cold, and his head was dropped so I couldn't see his face. My lips quivered at the sight of him looking almost childlike—innocent. The deep breath I took made my lungs ache.