Lydia kept her eyes in Isaac's, because she thought if there was ever a time when it was important to look him in the eye when she spoke, it was right then. He needed to know that she meant it; he needed to know that she was really there and that he would have someone to take his hand and pull him back out of the darkness again, because Lydia was starting to realize that maybe Isaac had never had that person. The idea that maybe his relationships with the packs he'd run in had been largely superficial because he'd been conditioned to be afraid to feel anything was heartbreaking.
“Yes, you can,” she said firmly. “Yes you can, Isaac. You don't have to do it alone this time. Okay? You don't have to do it alone. If you feel like you need to wait, then wait,” she told him, her eyes never straying away from his, locked in on him to illustrate the weight she knew the words deserved to carry. “But when the babies are born, no more excuses. Yes, you can do it and I will help you. I won't let you be completely consumed with it, I promise...you will always have my hand to take to pull yourself back to your feet. You can do it. You can.”
What she was advising was asking a lot of Isaac, but she had done it and if she could, then so could he. And really, he deserved to be able to breathe again. That was the best way Lydia could describe the feeling. It still hurt and she still missed her best friend. There was still a void in her heart and she supposed there always would be, but she could breathe again. Isaac deserved to be able to, too.