Page 46 of Give Me a Shot

Part of him hoped she changed her mind; another part would die if she did. In the past, his few relationships had been difficult—the breath-snatching overwhelm from the intensity of all the feelings, both good and bad, his painfully acute awareness of any shade of disappointment from his partner, and the screaming imperative within his every cell to prevent that disappointment from happening. For a time, though, the rewards had been well worth the risk.

Sighing, he lowered the dumbbells to the floor, pausing to rest.

He hadn’t known that he was an HSP in previous relationships. Hadn’t understood there wasn’t something fundamentally wrong with him, that he wasn’t individually weaker than the rest of the world, a failure to be a confident, never-overwhelmedadult. A fortuitous Google search, when he’d been trying to understand why Maddie’s cries as a baby had made him feel like his skin was on fire and brought him to throat-closing sobs, led to the discovery of his particular neurodiversity. Once he was armed with the understanding that things like his discomfort with speaking up and his need to avoid too much attention were simply coded into his biology, he’d learned to give himself grace.

Jess understood those things, too.

The smile that had bloomed quickly faltered. She might understand him somewhat, but was he ready to deal with the physical symptoms that changing his current steady life would bring? He leaned over to pick up the dumbbells again.

“Are you okay, Daddy?”

Mo turned to face Maddie in the doorway. She’d run straight to her room when Khalil had dropped her off. She’d been focused on a coding project that Vanessa, Khalil’s wife, was helping her with, so Mo hadn’t stayed long when he went to check on her.

She never interrupted him while he was exercising. The fact that she’d done so, combined with her question and tone, had him on high alert.

“I am, sugar plum,” he said, waving her into the room. “Why?”

She joined him.

“You feel weird,” she said.

A wry smile pulled Mo’s lips to the side. Maddie was watching him closely, so he did his best to let her see his appreciation for her concern and not the sadness or regret he felt when she showed symptoms of being an HSP. To non-HSPs, her statement might have been confusing. To Mo, it was crystal clear. Maddie had felt his energy, likely as a sensation in her own body, and it had affected her strongly enough for her to interrupt him in the middle of a task that she knew was important to his emotional state. He shifted a little and patted the workout bench beside him. “Good weird, or bad weird?” he asked as she sat down.

She scrunched her eyebrows, studying him. “Mostly good,” she said after a few moments. “But there’s some…fuzz?”

“Fuzz?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Like when Papi is listening to his radio and changes the channels.”

“Ah, when he’s dialing through thestations,” Mo said. “Static?”

Madison nodded. It tickled Mo a little that Maddie’s reference for the concept of static was his father’s radio habits. But he figured it made more sense for her generation than a malfunctioning television.

“Well, you’re right,” he said. HSP or not, it was important to him to encourage his daughter to trust the sensations in her body. “I’m mostly good. But I am a little worried, too.”

“Let’s talk about it, then,” she said, looping her arm through his. “Maybe I can help.”

Mo smiled at her. While her compassion was always appreciated, he wanted to tread lightly to avoid putting any pressure on her to feel like she needed to take care ofhim. He had to be honest with her, though; she would know if he wasn’t.

“So,” he said. “I’m a little worried because I’m very happy with my life right now.” He paused to squeeze her arm close to his side. “But I’m also interested in maybe making some changes that could make life a little different.”

Maddie scrunched her eyebrows again.

“Is it about that lady who called?” she asked. “Jess?”

Dammit. Always clever, always remembers everything.

He sighed.

“Yes, it’s about Jess,” he said.

Maddie’s face broke into a thousand-watt smile. “Is Jess your girlfriend?” she asked.

Chuckling, Mo shook his head. “No,” he said. “Jess is not my girlfriend. We just—”

“Do you like her?” Maddie asked, cutting him off.

Mo’s cheeks caught fire. Khalil had named his age-old shyness about liking someone or being liked. Mo didn’t think he had the strength to talk about that with Maddie. He took a deep breath, but Maddie spoke before he could.

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