Page 19 of Glad You're Here

“I know, but I want to.” That wasn’t a lie. For the final inexplicable reason of the night, I desperately wanted to tell someone about my mom. It felt like that little secret clawed at my insides, trying to get out.

He nodded. “Then I want to listen.”

“My mom had postpartum depression and ran her car off a bridge when I was only five months old.” I rolled my eyes as a tear slipped down my cheek. “That, um, that hurts, ya know? And it makes me wonder about my value and what makes a person give up.” I angrily swiped at my tears. Lenny was the only person that had ever seen me cry. “And sometimes my fibromyalgia pain gets so intense that any way to make it stop sounds like a good idea. But I’m not going to hurt myself.”

The words kept spilling from my mouth even though I begged myself to shut up. “I’ve been to three different therapists. One was awful, and two were great. I’ve tried pills, and I hated them. I think I have a sad brain, but it’s fine. I’m not going to hurt myself. I’m not.” Now that Levi looked right at me, all raw and exposed, I truly didn’t want to hurt myself. It was like he shed the light of day on my darkness and made it look less ugly.

Levi’s hand never left my knee. “I don’t think you’ll hurt yourself either, Thea. You’ll find your reason to stay.” He took my hand in his free one and ran his thumb over the skull ring on my pointer finger. “And I’m sorry about your mom. That sucks.”

“Sucks balls.” I agreed, wiping another traitorous tear.

Levi smiled. “Big hairy balls.”

I laughed through my tears. “Gross. Why do they have to be hairy?”

“To illustrate how bad it sucks, Thea.”

After we both laughed, I wiped my last tear and patted Levi’s hand with my free one. “Thanks for not making this a big deal,” I said.

“I’ve got you.” The doorbell rang, signaling the Chinese delivery. Levi stood to answer the door, letting my hand fall back into my lap. Before he left my bedroom, he turned and said, “And thanks for opening up to me. It makes me feel like we’re real friends.” His smile was freaking adorable. Levi was excited to be my friend.

Why did that make my stomach flutter?

eight

Levi or Brigham, Who Knows?

Thursday, it rained. I liked the rain. I liked the way puddles on the sidewalk created reflective pools. It made it seem as if the world had flipped upside down, and we were walking in the sky. I could relate to that. As a kid, though, I hated rain. Maybe because my mom would always say, “Don’t you love the rain, kids? Think of your baptism day. It’s like Heavenly Father is washing away all of the sins of the world and making it clean again.”

The sins of the world.

Bullshit.

The world was full of people who tried, messed up, and tried again. Sin was a construct invented for the purpose of control.

I headed out the front door of my hotel and straight into the rain without an umbrella. Let it try to wash away my sins.

Thea stood several yards away, dressed all in black. She fixed her intense gaze right on me, making my heart race. Thea looked beautiful standing in the rain under a bright yellow umbrella. It made me think of her squishy yellow couch and her favorite yellow mug that she insisted I use when I made tea for her last night. Where did the yellow fit into her black, purple, emo vibe? Maybe it represented the glow inside, whether she realized it or not. Maybe the yellow kept her vibrant and living when things in her head got too dark.

I still thought my initial impression of Thea as a wounded goddess was spot on. She fought her demons with her head held high. I had nothing but respect for that.

“You ready?” she grinned at me.

I shrugged. “We’ll see.” A random Thursday in a random city was as good a time as any to get my first tattoo. I’d decided to bite the bullet and let my family and co-workers think what they may. “So, how do you know this super-talented tattoo artist?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

“Uh, we dated.” Thea crossed the street, and I hurried to keep up.

“Recently? Seriously?”

Thea shrugged. “We broke up maybe six months ago, and he moved out a few weeks later.”

Jealousy twisted my stomach and laced my words with accusation. “Oh, so you lived with this dude?”

Thea stopped walking and raised an eyebrow. “I realize you weren’t allowed to live with people before marriage, but that doesn’t mean I can’t.”

I blinked and froze. Thea thought I was judging her. I hadn’t meant to, but I did come off critically. “No, I’m not judging.” I tried to backpedal. How else could I explain my reaction without telling her I had feelings for her? “I —”

“It’s right up here.” Thea cut me off and gestured toward a tattoo studio named Dark Horse. “Blane blocked out three hours for you today, so we’re not going to be able to get anything huge or detailed, but it should still be cool. He’s been doing this for over ten years and is now one of the most sought-after tattoo artists in the area.”

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