Page 59 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
I do have words. Lots of words. Yesterday I learned “nostalgia,” and today I know “fabricated.”
“Jonah, promise me he’ll be okay, that you’ll take care of him when I’m gone.”
My mother died a week later.
“There’s nothing wrong with you, Thane.”
Rafe’s words rip me from a memory that generally only haunts my dreams.
“You were homeschooled but self-taught. You’ve had the privilege of building walls around you that keep people out, but you can learn and adapt. Lots of people are doing it every day. You’re not contagious, you’re not broken, and you have a big heart. You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t. I happen to believe you’re exactly what Kara needs right now. Maybe Lottie too.”
At Charlotte’s name, I face him and curl my hands into tight fists. Then flex. Then fist. Then flex until the volcano bubbles and gurgles to a stop.
My breaths are rough and uneven as though I’ve pushed my muscles too hard with Ivan on a bad day.
“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Rafe leans against the wall opposite me.
I’m exhausted and could sleep for a month. I haven’t had an…episode like this since college.
“I’m wondering what it would be like to be normal.”
“You are normal. But people with sensory sensitivities and other…tendencies have hopefully had many years of various therapies that have given them the tools and skills to work through things like this.” He crosses one foot over the other. “You haven’t had the same opportunities, but I also believe that anyone who’s been alone as much as you have for most of their life would need help acclimating to your situation. You raced into the fire when your sister needed you, Thane. You must see that grace is required to build new systems that work for you and even more time for them to become habitual.”
“I’m not always alone. I have thousands of employees. I have meetings every day.”
“You’re right, and you’ve grown accustomed to those systems, those situations. You’re the boss, you make the rules. You interact or hide away whenever it suits you, and you pay other people to do tasks that push you out of your comfort zone. Those are all coping mechanisms. But life outside of your company and the systems you’ve put in place there is more complex. Relationships and people in general are complex and constantly need fine-tuning.”
I sit down at my desk, and Hercules climbs onto my feet. It’s oddly comforting.
“You’ve simply never cared enough to try this hard.” Rafe’s voice is soft. “Not with me, not with your employees, and certainly not with your father. But for Lottie, you’re trying. And for Kara, I think you might be trying even harder. A comfort zone is a great place to be, but nothing can thrive there for long. So are you willing to put in the work, pushing against your boundaries, to make those relationships work?”
“Yes.” That response requires no thought. I’ll do anything for my girls, even if that means destroying my systems and all the comforts they bring.
When Rafe doesn’t comment, I lift my gaze to his.
“This is the most progress I’ve made with you in our nearly fifteen years of friendship. If you want my opinion, then I think Kara and Lottie are exactly who you need.”
I nod and exhale a harsh breath. Damn, he’s right—I do hold my breath a lot.
“We’ll take it slow, but I did come up to tell you that Lottie just pulled into her driveway.”
Clutching Hercules to my chest, I rise and stride toward the door. “Into the fire, huh? Who needs comfort zones anyway? Sometimes it’s better to get burned, don’t you think?”
Rafe laughs heartily as I pass him for the hallway, handing off Hercules on my way by. “This is something we joke about now, is it? Good to know.”
“You’re the one who told me not to take myself so seriously.” I take another deep breath and smile just a little when he isn’t looking.
Maybe, just maybe, this jackass has been right all these years.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
LOTTIE
I’m dying.That’s what I expected the nurse practitioner to tell me when I was seen at the walk-in clinic an hour ago. It’s the only thing that made sense. My head is pounding, and I’m so dizzy. The sunlight hurts, the house is too cold, and I thought a ghost came to visit me when I woke up this morning.
Okay, in hindsight, that last one might have been from the fever ravaging my body, but it sure as hell looked real.
“You’re not dying, Ms. Sinclair. You simply have the flu and strep throat. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t had any symptoms before now, and if you did, you should have worn a mask so as not to infect everyone in my waiting room.”
