Page 57 of Driving Me Mad (Sanity 1)

Her shoulders shrug. “Don’t you want to bore me to sleep again?”

I chuckle. “Anything you want me to talk about in particular?”

She’s quiet for a moment, and then she asks, “What was the best decision you made last year?”

“Deciding to move here,” I easily answer. “Even if we had just stayed friends, moving would still be the best decision I’d made.”

She tilts her head back to look at me. “You would be happy just being friends?”

I take her hand, interlocking our fingers. “You were already my best friend, Britt. I’d take whatever you wanted to give.”

Her eyebrows rise a little, and she gets that goofy grin on her face. “I’m your best friend?”

“Yeah.”

Her grin widens. “I love you.” Just as soon as the words leave her mouth, she gasps. “Don’t say a word,” sh

e rushes to say. “I mean I mean it, but I don’t want to hear you say it yet. I mean I don’t want you to say it because I said it, even if you mean it. I just, oh my god. Why are you laughing?”

“You’re cute,” I tell her, my laughter fading away.

“This is not a time to laugh at me,” she whines.

“What would you rather I do? You’ve forbidden me from talking, and I do think you’re cute. This is probably the only instance of you freaking out I can enjoy.”

Brittany’s lips pout, but she’s still smiling a little. “Fine. You enjoy it, and I’m going to try to get more sleep.”

She goes to roll over, but I stop her. “Hey.” She doesn’t want me to say anything, so I don’t. Instead, I lean forward and kiss her. I deliberately kiss her slowly. My kiss conveys what I’m not allowed to say. That I’m grateful for her love, that I wish I was worthy of it, and that I’m crazy about her.

When I pull away, she’s smiling. Brittany buries her face under my chin, and I hold her closer. Damn it. I’m so unbelievably unworthy of her. How can she love me? Honestly. I’m not saying I’m not a decent guy who is incapable of being loved. No, I’m a shitty boyfriend who has yet to be completely honest with her like she wants. I have yet to tell her about my mom. I have yet to allow her to be there for me like she wants to be.

And she knows this! Well, maybe she doesn’t know all of it in the fullest capacity, but she’s still aware that I’m holding back somewhat.

How does she love me anyway?

I wrap both my arms around her and hold her tighter, kissing the top of her head. I keep telling myself I’m going to do better, share more, but have I tried hard enough? Enough to have heard those three words leave her mouth?

The answer is no, I have not.

Brittany seemed better when we woke up for the start of the day. The frequency with which she squeezed her wrist had lessened some, but it’s back in full force now. She’s supposed to text me after her appointment with a short update, and then I’ll see her tonight. I need to look up where I can board Lily for our trip to Las Vegas in two weeks. Aside from work, that and calling about a med change are the only things on my to-do list today.

I’ve come to crave my time with Brittany. Those few moments when something she says or does makes me laugh or smile are little bursts of happiness that relieves me from the depression wrapping around my throat, constricting tighter and tighter every day. I covet those moments. I haven’t been able to create those bursts on my own, only when she is around. I’m hoping that’s enough to keep me breathing throughout our Vegas trip.

Right now, I call Dr. Will Gunner. He’s been urging me to find another psychiatrist, but he’s my friend, my psychiatrist, and I like him. He can deal with me.

Once the receptionist puts him on the phone, he says, “Haven’t you found someone out there yet?”

“Give up the dream; I’m sticking with you.”

“Fine. I would ask you how things are going in your life, but you might mention someone I don’t want to know anything about. Why’d you make an appointment, Trace?”

I sigh. Brittany isn’t the only one who isn’t a fan of med changes. “I think I need a med change. The increase isn’t helping at all.”

“Well, we can increase them again. You aren’t at the max dosage yet,” he tells me.

“Let’s try that then.”

“Okay. I’ll send a prescription to your pharmacy. Give me a call in two weeks if you’re not improving. You’re keeping good habits and stuff like that to help yourself, right?” he asks.

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