Page 30 of Unravel Me

Adam refills my wine. “What do you do at the shelter?”

“Well, vet school is really demanding, so I mostly only work there during the summer, and what I can manage during the school year. Hopefully they’ll hire me as a vet when I graduate, but right now, I mostly do animal socialization. A lot of the animals that come in are scared. Their whole life has been turned upside down. We work with them to start trusting humans again before they’re ready to be adopted.”

“It must be rewarding to see them come out of their shells.”

“It really is so amazing, Adam. Especially with animals like Piglet, who have been through so much. She has so much love to give, and someone stole that light from her. I love being part of the reason she finds it again.”

Adam smiles at me. “You really love her.”

“So much.”

“Have you ever thought about adopting her?”

“Only every day.”

“What’s stopping you?”

I bring my feet toward me, crossing my legs, tracing the swoop of my Nikes. “I don’t have the space she deserves.” Nor the money to keep up with her care. “If I did, I’d bring her home in a heartbeat. But she deserves more than what I can offer her.”

“I get that. But for what it’s worth, Rosie, it’s not usually the space that makes a home. It’s the love. And I bet you give the best kind.”

The corner of my mouth quirks. “You’re really refreshing, you know?”

“How so?”

“You look like someone always in control, or someone who likes to be, maybe. Maybe it’s your size, or how comfortable you seem in your own skin. You’re not afraid to be kind and sweet and gentle, like carrying Piglet down the stairs because she’s afraid, or admitting you ask your girl friends for advice. But the way you talk sometimes, the way you…touch…as much as you like to be in control, I feel like there’s a part of you dying to lose all that control, to be unrestrained. It’s just refreshing to see someone so willing to be open about exactly who they are and what they need.”

I clear the dryness in my throat, then drown it with wine as silence swirls around us, hoping I haven’t crossed a line.

“And what about you?” Adam finally asks. “Do you like to be in control?”

“I have to be in control. At school, at work, I don’t have the luxury of letting my emotions get the best of me. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, holding it in, and I fail sometimes. Sometimes I fail often, but I’m trying. And at home, I—” I stop myself before I say too much, something I’m not ready to share. “I depend on routine. I should be more flexible, but it stresses me out to even think about changing something in my day to day sometimes. So, yes, I’m in control. But do I like to be?” I nibble my lip as I look to Adam, the way he’s watching me with rapt attention, drinking in every word. “Sometimes I crave someone else to take control, just so I don’t have to. Just so I can let go, even for a moment. Being in control all the time, it’s…exhausting.”

Adam leans back on his hands, staring at the bright blue sky slowly fading to a pretty shade of lilac as the sun dips. When his eyes find mine, something in my chest wants to break wide open, let him see inside, the fears, the insecurities, the little joys and triumphs, all the nuances that shape me. Somehow, it feels like that’s what he wants too.

“What if this is your safe space to do that? What if when you’re with me, you can give it up, let it go, and just…be?”

“It’s a nice idea.” Farfetched, but nice. The anxiety, the obsessive-compulsive tendencies that surround my routines and shape my life, they’re a voice in my head that’s less agreeable, less hopeful. They tell me I can’t let go, because what happens when I do? Chaos, disorder. Things I’ll need to fix.

“It doesn’t have to be just an idea.” He lays his hand on top of mine, a gentle touch that soothes the worries. “You say you’re a worst-case scenario expert, and the idea of giving up any amount of control ever is probably horrifying, but maybe with time and a little trust, we learn to give and take control when we need to. For each other, and for ourselves.”

I turn my palm over, watching as he traces the lines in it. “Does it make sense that the idea is as daunting as it is calming?”

“It makes perfect sense, Rosie. Nothing worth having ever comes easy, does it? We want the calm, but sometimes we have to brave the storm to get there.”

His words settle around me like a cozy blanket, and a shiver runs through me when his fingers leave my palm, traveling up the inside of my forearm, making me wiggle. “So wise. What are you, a therapist?”

He chuckles softly. “Nope.”

“Am I close?”

“Not even a little bit, trouble.”

“Hmm…” I jerk my arm away when he tickles me again, hiding my face when my giggle starts spiraling into pig-snort territory. Taking his hand in mine, I turn it over, trading places with him as I run the tips of my fingers over his palm.

“Are you a…dog trainer?”

His eyes glitter as he shakes his head. “Nuh-uh.”

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