Page 94 of Give Me a Shot

“Let’s just snuggle for a bit,” he said, moving gently to nudge her to spoon with him.

She nodded, scooting until her back was pressed against his chest. She hugged his arm close when he wrapped it around her. Once they settled, she laughed a little.

“Funny,” she said. “Feels a little more like home in Hephaestus’s arms.”

He chuckled, kissed her crown, and squeezed her tight.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Mo

Mo closed the almanac website and took a moment to savor the hit of ease he always received when he did. That particular site was visually “loud” for him, disturbing. It always caused an uptick in static in his mind and body when he used it. Unfortunately, it was the absolute best one he’d found to help him tend to his plants. He switched over to his plant spreadsheet and made the necessary updates. Over the past couple of days, he’d been engaging more fully with his plants, trying to flush out the higher than usual levels of static that had been buzzing in his muscles and slowing his thoughts. He hadn’t been successful.

I’ll probably feel more grounded with some food.

He left his computer and jogged down the stairs to the kitchen. He could heat up some of his newest batch of chorba since he was feeling unbalanced. But thinking of it made him think of Jess. If he was honest with himself, most of the out-of-sorts feeling was coming from what she was dealing with. The evening she called him over was when his static had first ticked up. The photoshoot stress had raised it, and their conversation about her turning to him to escape had put it firmly on high. In spite of his surprise about the upsetting news that she needed more medical tests, he’d refused to push her on it. She was a very levelheaded person. It seemed odd that she would be resistant to getting to the bottom of a health problem. And he’d noticed that it was a problem—he’d seen her stretching her hands or rubbing hershoulders during meetings or even their dates. It had been going on for quite some time, why not try to find a solution? However, he could certainly understand being afraid when a doctor says, “I don’t know.”

He opened the fridge, assessing the contents for a sandwich or a salad.

She didn’t seem worried about her actual health. More like annoyed that her doctor and her friends were bothering her about it.

Then there was the impact on her from contact with her mother. When she’d sent Jess the photos, a rush of cold had passed from Jess to him, even before her body had…deflated? He wasn’t sure that was the best word. He grabbed the ingredients for a sandwich and got to work at the kitchen counter.

He was still glad that she’d called him over. But as much as he felt honored that she’d let him be there for her in that way, he couldn’t think about it too much right then. All the sensations from her upset would echo back, and his sandwich would remain intact. After laying out his placemat, napkin, and glass of sparkling water, he sliced the sandwich in half and sat at the kitchen table.

The static had made it feel like his bones were vibrating on the way to the photoshoot the following day, but he’d attributed it to being watched, photographed, seen. And when he’d had a few moments with Jess, things had calmed. He took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly.

That’s a great sign.

But that evening, after the photoshoot…he swallowed his bite, his throat protesting a bit. He tried to wash down the discomfort with half of his glass of water. He’d been happy and relieved, and his muscles and skin and mind had been quiet and content—until he’d become concerned about her escaping in him. While he was glad that they’d cleared the air about the possibility of him feeling used, they had not fully addressed her potential escapism.

Her physical pain, being upset by her family, running from painful feelings…

It was plain as day to him that at least two of those problems were related to losing Cassie. He wondered about the pain. When Mo had imagined losing one of his brothers, it had caused him piercing, visceral pain. Allowing his thoughts to return to that moment made him push his sandwich away. If he felt that way only imagining that kind of loss, how might it feel to actually live it?

Maybe it’s different for me because I’m an HSP. Any feeling is.

Needing to be sure, he downed the rest of his water, put his sandwich in the fridge, and headed back upstairs.

—

Half an hour later, Dr. Google had provided some answers.

“Grief may be responsible for joint pain, muscle pain, and intense stiffness…”read the very first result. From there, Mo had gone down several rabbit holes, trying to understand the hows and the whys.

“Efforts to avoid the reality of loss”had particularly stuck out to Mo. Not that Jess owed him a performance of grieving Cassie, but he’d only seen her specifically upset about her sister one time. And she hadn’t shed a tear. She hadn’t told him when exactly Cassie died, but she had said that it happened right before she returned to the States. She’d only been back a few months.

Mo sat back in his seat, slowly scratching at his beard. Google had also told him that it was possible that she was running to him to escape in physical pleasure. After some time to chew it over, he realized that her desire to feel good with him made him a bit proud—in those moments, she was secure with him and felt free. But he was very, very concerned about whether continuing to run could harm her.

He rested his elbows on the desk, scratching at both sides of his beard as he reread the last article he’d found. All of the information had been useful, if a bit sterile. He’d have liked to run it by a real person, but grief is a touchy subject. Personal.

I do know someone who might be willing to share her lifetime’s worth of wisdom.

—

Mo took a deep breath as he raised his hand to knock on his neighbor’s door.

“Mrs. Sargysan, are you in?” he called out.

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