I refrain from sitting up and hugging him, knowing he wouldn’t appreciate an over-the-top reaction. Instead, I reach a hand over and nudge his thigh until he reluctantly meets my eyes. “That’s okay,” I tell him, and he takes a deep inhale. “I know. I’ve never said that out loud before. I’m already kind of wishing I hadn’t said it right now.” He laughs again, but it’s one of the saddest sounds I’ve ever heard him make. “Hey, come on. You know I won’t tell anyone, Mick. Not if you don’t want me to. We can have our identity crisis together, yeah?”
