I almost thought I was hallucinating when I opened the door to find Toby. It'd been almost two weeks since I'd seen or spoken to him, and he looked different. Not physically... just something about his... spirit. Like he'd been through some shit.
"Hey, can I come in?" The familiarity of his voice sent a comforting chill down my body and tears to my eyes.
Without letting them fall, I stepped to the side, unsure of how I should feel. My chest ached, but my tummy was settled for the first time in weeks. As he stepped in front of me, I reached out and clung onto him for dear life, letting the door slam shut. His body was rigid at first, confused, but eventually he settled in. We stayed like that in silence for a minute. Unsurprisingly, some of those tears slipped out. More surprising, Toby didn't loosen his grip for a few seconds after I released my hold on him. I glanced up to see him rubbing a few of his own tears away.
Taking his hand in mine, I walked him to my room. By the time we sat on the couch, Toby's eyes were dry but melancholy, ashamed. "I'm sorry for the way I've acted lately."
"You don't have to..."
He held his hand up to stop me. "I shouldn't have said what I did at the meeting, regardless of how upset I was."
"But you weren't really in control of yourself... mania sucks."
