Jaden took another swing, the ball flying true and strong on the simulated course. The physical exertion, the focus required, was a welcome distraction, a momentary escape from the mental clutter that had plagued him all day. Ken, meanwhile, was less focused on his game and more on his friend. He hit a few respectable shots, but his eyes kept returning to Jaden, sensing the lingering tension beneath the surface of his outward calm.
"So, the legendary Lizzy, huh?" Ken finally prompted, leaning on his club, his voice softer now, more probing. "Haven't heard that name in years. She was quite the firecracker, if I remember correctly."
Jaden let out a short, humorless laugh. "Firecracker is one way to put it. More like a persistent shadow." He took a deep breath, lining up another shot. "Honestly, Ken, it's not just the matchmaking. It's... everything."
"Everything?" Ken echoed gently. He knew Jaden well enough to understand that "everything" usually meant a complex web of emotions and memories Jaden rarely shared.
"The nightmares are back, worse than ever," Jaden admitted, his voice barely a whisper, almost lost in the soft hum of the Golf House. "And today… earlier… when I ran into the, It just brought it all back." He didn't elaborate, and Ken didn't press. He knew some topics were sacredly guarded, even between them.
"Your dad worries about you, you know," Ken said, changing tack slightly, but still circling the core issue. "He just wants to see you happy. Settled. He probably thinks a good distraction, or a 'nice girl' from your past, might help."
"A distraction isn't what I need," Jaden countered, swinging hard, the ball a white blur on the screen. "And 'settled' means getting married and giving him grandkids. It's not about my happiness, it's about his idea of it." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration creeping back into his voice. "He doesn't understand. He can't."
Ken nodded slowly. He understood more than Jaden gave him credit for. He remembered the shift in Jaden years ago, the sudden withdrawal, the shadows that began to gather in his eyes. "Sometimes, Jaden," Ken began carefully, "talking about it helps. Not just with me, but... maybe with someone professional."
Jaden stiffened, his grip tightening on the club. "There's nothing to talk about that hasn't been replayed a thousand times in my head. And I'm not some broken project that needs fixing."
"No one said you're broken," Ken calmly countered. "Just... carrying a heavy load. And you've been carrying it alone for a long time." He paused, letting his words hang in the air. "Maybe Lizzy wouldn't be so bad. Just as a friend, at least. A familiar face."
Jaden finally turned, looking at Ken properly. The suggestion seemed to catch him off guard. A familiar face. Not a date, not a potential spouse, but someone from a time before everything became so complicated. He considered it for a moment, the idea feeling less like a trap and more like... a curiosity. But the wall he'd built around himself was thick and tall.
"We'll see," Jaden finally mumbled, turning back to his shot. It wasn't a "no," which, for Jaden, was as close to a "maybe" as Ken was likely to get. Ken smiled faintly. He knew this was a battle of inches, not miles. For now, another round of golf, and the quiet comfort of their unspoken understanding, would have to suffice.