Page 66 of Healing You
“I didn't know she was a service dog.”
“Yeah. I try not to make it too obvious. I mean, when I first got her, I had to take her everywhere. To classes, to the library, to football games. But it got better... I got better.”
“...until I entered the picture again?”
His hand fell to her knee, brushing against her bare skin in soft, reassuring strokes. “You're not the only trigger.” But even he didn't seem to believe his own words.
“Is this why you don't ride your motorcycle anymore?” she asked.
He nodded.
What the hell was she supposed to do with all this information? It was late and a lot to process. “I wish I'd never written this stupid note. I'm so sorry it fell into your hands, Steve. I didn't mean any of it.”
He dropped his forehead to hers and was that...? Did she hear him sniffle? “And I'm sorry that it took me thirteen years to gain the courage to come ask you about it. I just—I figured it had my name on it, it was in your handwriting, and that you clearly meant it for me to see. I'm sorry that despite the second and third chances you've given me, I've failed you every time. I shouldn't have run away from you when my panic attack started last weekend. I shouldn't have walked out on you the next morning. And I promise that I won't ever again. I'll spend the rest of our lives proving that to you.”
She sat there numb, his explanation rolling over her. Those were just words. She needed action. She needed to see the change. Not only in Steve, but herself as well. She'd carried that guilt for thirteen years. It was going to take more than an evening to let it go. “All these years, I thought you blamed me. I thought you and Ronnie and Cam and your mom all hated me because I caused our wreck. You were behind the wheel. But I was the reason you were distracted. I thought every time you saw your scar, you blamed me for it.”
He shook his head, sadness creasing his eyes. “I think I did a little, at first after reading your letter. But that didn't last long. Hell, it would have been easier to blame you, but I didn't.”
What the hell was left to say? “I don't really know where we go from here. I'm still problematic to your anxiety. And you still see me as some sort of porcelain doll. I can't live a bubble-wrapped life like I did with my parents. Like I did with Jonah. I'll go nuts.”
He pulled back, wiping a fallen tear from his cheek. His palm scraped across the day-old stubble growing in, blondish red in color. “And you shouldn't have to. I don't know what the answer is... all I know is that living without you isn't it.”
It was too much. She finally had the explanation she had yearned for all these years. Finally had Steve here in front of her, offering to work on all those problems. But she felt like she was drowning, just barely able to keep herself above water. And if he walked out on her again, she didn't know that she had the fight in her to come back up for air one more time. She jumped to her feet, her heart like a jackrabbit against her chest. “We have a big day tomorrow. We should both get some rest.”
“Yeah, I guess we should.” He stood up, his expression calm, lips tilted in a serene smile. The scar twitched along with his muscled jaw. “Besides, you still have nine more letters of mine to read.”
She watched him walk to the door, her eyes filling, but no tears fell as his figure became more blurry, shutting the door behind him. She didn't want it to be too late. She wanted it to work, to prove to him how unbreakable she was. But she wasn't sure that she could open her heart to him again. She didn't know if she could handle another panic attack that sent him running far away from her. How many times could she take that before it left her a shell of a person? How many times could you let one person walk out of your life before you shut the door on them forever? No, it wasn't the semantics of their relationship that hurt. It was knowing that sometimes two people just weren't ever going to fit together. No matter how hard they tried.
3 2
at six-thirty. T he sun rose way too goddamn early the next day, Steve thought as he delivered a jaw cracking yawn against the back of his hand. It was five a.m. and he'd already been up for an hour, helping Yvonne and the other volunteers set up. Registration for the race was to begin
Eight volunteers buzzed around, opening tables, hanging signs, setting up water stands and mile markers... and by “volunteers”, he really meant friends. These people weren't just colleagues or volunteers—they were family. They had six giant fenced in playpens donated by the local pet store for the adoptable dogs and another six crates for the cats they had up for adoption.
Ronnie was at his side, gripping the edge of a six-foot long table as they moved it to the edge of the park. “You're telling me Yvonne organized this whole thing?”
“How is it possible that you've lived here for so long and haven't been to a single one of Yvonne's rescue events?”
She shrugged, rolling her eyes. “Solidarity, brother. You were avoiding her, so I avoided her.”
“And now that I'm not avoiding her?” he asked.
Ronnie sighed, looking around at the various animals. “We'll see,” she said eyeing the cage of kittens Yvonne had saved a few weeks earlier.
“Oh, come on,” Steve said. “You know as well as I do that anyone who can spend a full day coaxing six kittens and a mama cat out from beneath a shed is not worth the energy of hating.”
“Are we all just supposed to forgive and forget those horrible things she wrote about you?”
Steve sighed. “If I can, then you sure as hell should be able to. Besides,” he grabbed a tablecloth, flipping it open and let it parachute down over the table. “We were teenagers. It wasn't a letter so much as a journal entry. She was angry and it wasn't—”
“–meant for you to see. Yeah, yeah, so you told me.”
“If you really still hated her, you wouldn't be here volunteering,” he said, shooting her a wink.
“I'm here for you, you idiot. Not her.” She rolled her eyes, glancing as Lex carried several large to-go thermoses of coffee over to one of the tables already set up.
Steve sent her a grin. “I could really use a coffee,” he said.
