"No, Becky," he told him. "Stop that. It wasn't your fault." He looked up at her. "If you hadn't asked us to look at it, you could have been an accident driving it. I was under there too. I don't know what you drove over, but it wasn't safe to drive. And you needed a car. It wasn't your fault. This stuff just...happens."
As fucked up as that was. "There's no one to blame," he admitted. "Not you or Robbie or anyone. Maybe God. Definitely Anders. But you aren't to blame. So don't let me ever hear you say that."
Without thinking, he reached up and pulled Becky gently into his lap, wrapping his arms around both of them. "I am too," he admitted, pressing his forehead to her shoulder. "It sucks. It's unfair and it makes me so mad. But there's no one and nothing to be mad at. Not that hasn't been dealt with."
Now, he just didn't know what to do. Story of his unlife really.