Текст книги "Falling "

Автор книги: E. K. Blair

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Текущая страница: 6 (всего у книги 29 страниц)

When I pull into my mom’s driveway, I see my family’s cars littering the street. I’m the last one to get here, and when I walk in, the noise confirms it. I make my way through the foyer to the back of the house, and the scene looks the same as always. The guys are drinking beer and watching football while the kids run around and play. The girls are all in the kitchen with the babies, laughing and gossiping.

“Sweetheart!” my mom squeals when she notices me walking into the kitchen. She gives me a big hug, and I wrap my arms around her. I feel like a lot has changed since I last saw her, so I take the embrace I feel like I’ve been missing for these past few months.

We exchange our ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I’ve missed you’s’ before I say hi to everyone else. The kids are running wild, excited to see me, as I hand Tori the keys to my jeep so she can go bring in the bags of gifts that I always have every time I see the kids. I love spoiling them, but it’s also my method of distracting them, and giving them new shit to play with keeps them occupied and out of their parents’ hair for a while.

When Tori walks back in, arms full of gifts, she mouths ‘thank you,’ desperate for the reprieve. I laugh and follow her into the living room where all the kids are. I sit on the floor with them as they rip through the paper, finding puzzles, toy cars, dolls, and a small bubble machine that is sure to keep these kids entertained by the hour.

“And where did you plan on the kids playing with that?” my mother gently nags, in only the way a mom can do.

“In the playroom upstairs.”

“Can I send you the bill for the carpet cleaning?”

Rolling my eyes at her, I say, “It’s bubble solution, Mom, not a turd.”

“What’s a turd, Uncle Ryan?” Madison, my three-year-old niece, asks.

Smiling at her, I say, “It’s poo poo.”

“Ewwww!” she squeals through her fit of laughter, and her mom, Katie, scolds me with a simple, “Ryan!”

I love getting a rise out of my cousins when it comes to their kids. I swear they can take the most harmless thing and make a big issue about it.

“Katie, they know what poop is. Relax.”

“Connor, you’re a turd head,” we overhear Madison say, and then I get the look from Katie as I start laughing.

“Hey, Tor. Can you grab me a beer?” I holler over to her while I sit next to her husband, Trevor.

“All these men are helpless,” I hear her tell my aunts.

My mother gathers the older kids and takes them up to the playroom, and when Tori hands me my beer, she sits on the floor between her husband’s legs.

After taking a long swig, Trevor asks, “So, man, how’s life in Seattle?”

“Good. Can’t really complain.”

“I need to get some free time to get up there and run around with you for a few days,” he tells me.

“You should. I haven’t been going out as much as I used to though.”

“Oh yeah?” he questions before Tori butts in and adds, “Why’s that? You seeing someone?”

Shit. This girl sees right through me, so I quickly defend, not wanting to reveal my personal shit to anyone, “What? No. Just been busy and haven’t had much time.”

Narrowing her eyes at me, she says, “You lie. You told me last week that the new manager is freeing up your time and you haven’t been going into the office as much.”

“Dude, who is she?” Trevor pipes in with a nudge to my arm.

“Who’s who?” my mother says as she walks down the stairs.

God, my family is nosey as hell.

“Nothing, Mom. They’re just giving me crap.”

My mom walks into the kitchen to join her sisters.

“Seriously, Ryan,” Tori pries.

Looking down at her, I say, “Seriously,” in an attempt to clip her curiosity.

“Don’t listen to her,” Ethan, Katie’s husband, tells me. “Enjoy the freedom.”

I give him a nod and take another sip of my beer, while Tori teases him, “That’s nice, Ethan. Does my sister know that you miss your freedom?”

“Every. Single. Day,” he jokes right back with her, and the three of them start laughing.

“I can’t lie, I miss it too,” Tori admits through her chuckles.

I listen to them while they complain, wishing I knew what it felt like to have what they do. Someone to share their bed with, kids, a family to make a home with. I’ve been alone my whole life. I feel like I don’t have a choice. I see what my cousins have, and it seems happy. But what I had, what I know, is a stark difference. It was pure chaos and dysfunction. Misery. I fear I’ll wind up just like my dad. I don’t know what it takes to be functional with anyone. I was never exposed to what a healthy relationship looks like. But when I think about where I’d like to wind up in life, it isn’t alone.

I head upstairs to my room to grab a coat and then make my way out to the back patio that overlooks Cannon Beach. It’s cold and windy with a faint mist under the grey sky. I love it out here, so I sit and kick my feet up onto the wooden railing in front of me.

I hear the door open, and when I look back, I watch my mom join me as she sits in the chair next to me.

“What are you doing out here in the cold?” she asks as she ties her leopard scarf around her neck, and my mind goes to Candace for a second before I answer, “Just thinking.”

“About?”

“I don’t know. I guess nothing, really.”

She shifts to face me, and I don’t even hesitate when I open up to her. “I met someone.”

“Really?” she says, completely surprised.

I laugh at her enthusiasm and shake my head. “Don’t get too excited, Mom. I’m not even sure she notices me.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t really know. She’s hard to figure out.”

“You meet her at the bar?” she questions.

“No. She isn’t that type of girl,” I say before taking a draw from my beer. “She’s quiet. Reserved. She’s studying dance at U-Dub.” Looking over at my mom, she’s smiling at me. “What?”

“Nothing. You’ve just never talked about a girl before.”

“No girl has ever given me a reason to.”

“So, have the two of you gone out yet?”

“No. Like I said, she’s hard to read,” I tell her as I look out over the water. “She’s different than the chicks I normally go for.”

“In what way?”

I turn back to my mom and respond, “In every way.”

She sits back in her chair and asks, “What’s her name?”

“Candace.”

“Pretty name.”

“She has these ticks though,” I reveal.

“Like what?”

“She’s awkward around crowds. She’s close friends with a couple of guys I know, and they’re really protective of her. I notice she stays the night with one of them a lot.”

“Is she seeing him?” she asks, and I laugh.

“No.”

“Why are you laughing?”

“‘Cause they’re gay, Mom.”

“Hmm,” is all she responds.

“I dunno. There’re just these things I pick up on that she does, but she’s so standoffish with me, and it’s hard trying to get her to talk.”

“Sometimes the things worth keeping are the things we have to work for,” she tells me.

“Maybe,” I sigh. “We’ll see. I don’t even really know her. It’s just . . . I want to.”

She reaches out and takes my hand as I look over at her and smile.

The house has been noisy and busy for the past couple of days. Every room is filled, and having the whole family here is always something I enjoy. I went for a run along the beach this morning, and when I came back, my mom and her sisters were already in the kitchen, preparing food for Thanksgiving dinner.

After getting cleaned up and heading downstairs, the kids are still lying on the floor, watching the Thanksgiving parade while my aunts are scouring the Black Friday ads with my mom. I swear, it’s the highlight of the year for them. They take their middle of the night shopping seriously and always have a mission plan before heading out. I look over at the three of them, huddled over the paper, and laugh as I walk into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

“What’s so funny?” my Aunt Carol asks.

Pulling a mug down, I say, “The three of you—plotting.”

“Wanna be our driver?” she jokes.

“Sorry, ladies. You’re on your own.”

“Are you still heading out this evening?” my mom asks.

“Yeah. Even though the bar’s gonna be dead, I let most of the staff take time off, so I need to be around.”

I take my coffee and go sit with the kids as they watch with excitement when they see a cartoon character they know float by. I sit back on the couch and wonder about her, remembering what Jase told me the other day before I saw how upset she was after talking with her mom.

“Her parents are assholes to her. They treat her like shit and she doesn’t deserve it.”

I wonder how she’s doing. I wonder how bad her parents really are. I wonder if they’re the reason why she’s so closed off. I wonder why I’m wondering so much, but I can’t shake the fact that I need to know. For some reason, it bothers me, and I can’t let it go.

I pull out my cell and go back and forth on whether or not I should take this jump. I don’t know what I’m doing. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never wanted to. But now . . . Fuck it, I’m jumping.

Punching out a text, I send it to Mark.

Can you send me Candace’s number?

I sit and wait. No response. I’m hoping he’s busy with his family, and not asking Jase what they should do to keep me away from her. Fuck.

My phone starts vibrating with an incoming call, and when I pick it up, I see it’s Mark. I answer the phone as I step outside.

“Hey.”

“Hey, man. How’s everything going?” he asks.

“Good. You?”

“Really good. Jase is with my mom, cooking, so I wanted to give you a quick call.”

“Okay,” I respond, waiting anxiously for what he has to say.

“I just wanted to lay it out there for you. Jase loves Candace in a way that’s hard to explain. He worries. I do too. She’s had a hard time this school year, and I don’t want to see her get hurt.”

“I’m sure you’ve heard things about me—”

“So you know where I’m coming from,” he interrupts.

“It isn’t like that,” I tell him.

“Good.”

Before we hang up, I get her number and store it into my phone. When I go back inside, I don’t text her. I hold off. Instead I distract myself with the kids. I spend most of the day putting together puzzles and playing dolls with Maddie and Bailey.

After we all eat and I’m lying in my bed, trying to nap off my food coma, I stare at my phone. Looking at the numbers that are my connection with her. It’s a little after six o’clock. The day is nearly over, so I fight against my apprehension and type out my text.

Got your number from Mark. Wanted to see how your Thanksgiving went. –Ryan

Lying there, I stare at the screen, waiting. I start questioning if that move was too bold for this girl. It’s a move I’ve never had to question in the past. My moves have always been pretty blunt, so the fact that I’m worried about a text is unnerving. And then my phone buzzes with her reply.

I think we managed to fall into the universal tradition of holiday drama. : )

That bad?

I respond, naturally wondering what happened.

Kinda. Now I’m home with no food.

She’s already back at her house. She wasn’t supposed to be back for a couple more days, so whatever happened was bad enough that she bailed out early.

“Ryan!” I hear my mom call from downstairs. Setting the phone down, I go to the top of the stairs to see what she wants.

“What’s up?” I call down.

“I need to run out and get some Pepto tablets for Connor. When are you planning on leaving?”

“I’ll just head out now, if that’s okay?”

“It’s never okay,” she teases.

I grab my phone and make my way downstairs. I feel like I’m rushing, saying goodbye to everyone, just so I can text Candace back. But once hugs are exchanged, I walk out with my mom.

“What are the plans for Christmas?” she asks.

“Same as always. I’ll be here on the twenty-third.”

“You drive safe, you hear,” she tells me.

“I hear.”

“Call me so I know you made it okay.”

Nodding my head, I tell her I love her before hopping in my car and pulling out of the driveway. Before I’m even at the main street, I have my phone out and text her back while I sit at the red light.

Sorry, saying bye to everyone. About to head home myself.

Did you have a good time with your family?

Yeah, I did. Ate way too much. Feel like I need to hibernate.

LOL. Drive safe. Is it pouring where you are?

Not too bad. Try and have a good night.

Thanks.

I toss the phone onto the passenger street and drive the four hours that it takes to get home, all the while thinking about her.

I’m up early and just got off the phone with my mother. They haven’t even made it home yet. They’ve been out shopping all night. It’s almost embarrassing. I find myself rummaging through my kitchen, and something about eating so much yesterday has me craving another heavy meal.

I jump into the shower to get ready and remember what Candace texted me last night.

I’m home with no food.

When I get out of the shower, I take a shot and send her a text.

I am heading out for breakfast. Wanna join?

I pull some clothes out of my closet and get dressed when I hear my phone buzzing.

Sure. Where?

I’m a little shocked that she so easily agreed, but I go with it and don’t even question her.

The Dish Café. 9:00?

See you then.

After another cup of coffee, I head out and make my way to the local dive. I’m there first, so I go ahead and order her a tea while I wait. I pick up the menu to give it a lookover, and when I shift my eyes up, I see her walking in. I notice her leopard rain boots peeking out underneath her jeans, and laugh to myself. This chick obviously has a thing for leopard.

“Hey,” I say as she shrugs off her coat and sits down.

“Hi, thanks for inviting me. I literally have no food at the house.”

“So, what did you wind up doing last night?” I ask.

Slumping back in her chair, she says, “I ate an old bag of popcorn and passed out on the couch.”

“That’s pathetic,” I laugh.

Widening her eyes, she agrees, “My thoughts exactly.”

When the waiter stops by and brings us our drinks, she eyes the tea he sets down in front of her and I say, “I ordered you a hot tea.”

She looks a bit surprised when she replies, “Oh, thanks,” before picking up her menu. I watch her and notice her eyebrow give a slight twitch, but she distracts me when she suddenly asks, “So, how was your Thanksgiving?”

“It was good. We did the typical family thing like we do every year. Mom and her sisters being loud and gossipy, cooking all day. I hung out with the guys and watched football while the kids ran around screaming and playing. My head was pounding by the end of the night.”

She keeps a serious face when she says, “That actually sounds nice.”

“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “It’s not too often that everyone can get together, so when it does happen, it’s fun. Crazy, but fun.”

“What can I get you guys this morning?” the waiter asks when he drops by again.

“Um, I’ll have the two blueberry pancakes,” she tells him as she hands him the menu, and then I place my order.

She takes a sip of her tea and then asks, “So how many nieces and nephews do you have?”

Setting down my coffee, I say, “Three nieces and four nephews all under the age of five.” I smile when I add, “I’m not lying when I say it’s loud and crazy.”

When she doesn’t say anything in response, I ask, “So, you’re an only child?”

“Yeah. I have a pretty small family. My grandparents on my father’s side died when I was in high school, and I have never met my mother’s parents or her sister. My father is an only child as well, so it’s just the three of us.”

“Quiet.”

“Hmmm . . .” is all she replies before switching the topic back to me. “Is your mother out with the crazy Black Friday crowd today?”

“God, you have no idea. She and my aunts go bat-shit over the sales.”

When the waiter stops by and drops off our food, Candace lets out a satisfied sigh that I find humorous as she inspects her pancakes. She picks up her fork, and she must be hungry by the look on her face.

“That’s a shitload of food. You gonna be able to eat all that?” I ask.

Eying me, she cuts a huge piece off and for such a sophisticated looking girl, she shoves it in her mouth, giving me a gratified nod, and I literally laugh out loud at the scene she’s putting on.

“So, is all of your family in Oregon?” she asks while she eats.

“Yeah. I grew up there.”

“Why didn’t you ever go back after you graduated?”

“Because I bought out the bar. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. But honestly, Cannon Beach is a small town. I love Seattle and had already been here for four years and felt pretty settled. So I stayed,” I explain. “My mom had a hard time though. She had hoped that I would eventually move back, but it’s been ten years since I’ve been here, so she’s accepted that this is my home.”

“You two sound close,” she says before taking another bite.

“Yeah,” is all I respond when I take a sip of my coffee and continue to eat.

When Candace tosses down her fork and leans back, almost painfully, in her seat, she closes her eyes and lets out a groan that I laugh at.

“I can’t believe you ate all that. You sound like you’re about to die,” I tease.

“You have no idea,” she says as she opens her eyes.

“You gonna be able to walk, or will I have to carry you?”

Shifting around in her seat, she tells me, “Honestly, I really need to walk this off.”

“Come on, let’s get outta here,” I say as I stand up, not wanting to become a victim of a missed opportunity. I toss some cash onto the table and reach my hand out for her to take, and she does.

Walking her out into the rain, I nod my head over to where I’m parked for her to follow.

She stops in her steps and asks, “What?”

“I know you don’t have shit to do today, so come on,” I say as I walk over to my Rubicon. When I look back at her, she’s still standing there. “Come on,” I repeat.

“Where are we going?”

“I’ll figure that shit out when you get in.”

Wanting to keep Candace around for most of the day, I took her to the aquarium. I knew we could easily burn a few hours there, and I was right. She seemed relaxed and had fun, but now I’m sensing tension from her. We just left her house after grabbing a few groceries from the store. I could tell she was uncomfortable with me being there.

As I’m driving her back to her car that’s still at the restaurant, she watches the rain out the window and quietly says, “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Today. I had fun hanging out,” she responds as she looks over at me.

“You should say yes when I ask you to go running with me tomorrow morning.”

“Is that you asking me or telling me?”

When I look over at her and give her a smirk, she starts to giggle as she says, “Okay then.”

Satisfied with her answer, I repeat her words, “Okay then.”

Feeling a little more comfortable talking with her after spending the day together, I decide to ask her about what happened with her parents. So when I turn into the parking lot, I put the jeep in park and sit for a moment. The rain is coming down hard, beating against the steel. Turning to face her, she looks at me when I say, “I didn’t want to say anything earlier, but I can’t help but wonder about what made you come home yesterday.”

She shifts to face me and lets out a sigh, leaning her head against the headrest. “I got into a fight with my parents. Some pretty nasty things were said, so I just left.”

“You guys fight a lot?”

“My whole life,” she tells me. “My mother is a difficult woman to be around. She doesn’t approve of the way I want to live.”

“What do you mean?” I can’t imagine what this girl could possibly be doing wrong to earn her parents’ disapproval.

“My parents are more concerned about their social standing than my happiness. So, having a daughter who wants to be a dancer and isn’t engaged to be married is not a good look for them.”

“That’s pretty shitty.”

“I’m used to it,” she mumbles, and I hate the fact that this has been going on so long that she expects it.

“No one should be used to that,” I tell her softly. “They should be proud of you. I’ve only just met you, but you’re pretty great from what I know so far.”

She fidgets with her hands, seeming uncomfortable with my words, but I needed to say them.

She keeps her focus on her hands when she speaks again. “I had always hoped that somewhere beneath their hard exterior that they would be proud of me, but after last night, I now know that they aren’t.” When she looks back up at me, she looks abashed as she tells me, “My mother actually said she was embarrassed by me.”

Jase was right; her parents are pieces of shit. I can’t even help myself when I lean into her, and slide my hand over hers. I want to do so much more, but I leave it at this. She stares at our hands, and I can sense her tensing up at the contact.

She sits up and pulls her hand out from under mine—flustered—she grabs for the door handle, but it’s locked. I hit the switch when I see her panic.

“Thanks,” she whispers before abruptly getting out of my car.

I watch her and wonder what’s causing her to flip moods in a mere instant. Fumbling with her keys, she finally gets in the car and starts it up. She quickly glances over at me, embarrassed, and I hate that. All I can manage to make sense of is that her parents have fucked with her head so much that she’s become removed from feeling emotions. I get it. That’s been me my whole life, but now, with her, I find myself wanting to feel instead of running away from it.

I was nervous about meeting up with Candace this morning to go running. I was a little unsure of how she would react to me after what happened yesterday in my car, but she didn’t seemed fazed by it, so I moved past it, and we spent a good hour running around campus and her neighborhood. She kept up with my pace, and I really enjoyed working out with her. I don’t even think she noticed how distracted I was though, trying to sneak a peek at her whenever I could. She’s small but there’s no doubt that this chick is in extreme shape. Her legs are insane, and in her tight running pants, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her.

And now, sitting up here in my office, I can’t keep my mind off of her. I start packing my things up to head out early. It’s Saturday night, but being the holiday weekend, the place is dead.

“Hey, man,” Gavin says when he bursts into my office. “You leaving?”

“Yep.”

“We going out?”

Standing up, I start heading out when I tell him, “No. I’m gonna go home and just chill.”

“Are you serious? Dude, you avoiding me?” he asks as I make my way downstairs.

“No. I just have other shit going on, that’s all,” I explain. He wouldn’t get it if I told him, so I don’t.

He continues to follow me to the back door, but before I can open it, he steps in front of me and snaps, “Seriously. What the fuck is going on?”

“Nothing, man. Don’t take it personally.”

“Kinda hard when I’m the one you’re avoiding,” he says.

Taking a moment, I explain without telling him too much. “Gav, I’m almost thirty. I’m sick of going out all the time to just fuck random chicks. I’m tired.”

He doesn’t say anything. He’s the same age as me, and I know he’s perfectly happy doing the shit that he does, but it doesn’t make me happy anymore. It never did make me happy; it only made me numb. Stepping to the side, he walks away, throwing a, “See ya,” over his shoulder before I walk out to the parking lot.

Heading home, I decide to stop and grab a pizza and some beer to take back to my place. When I get back into my jeep, I start driving home, but quickly find myself taking a few new turns. I’m not ready to go home just yet as the urge to see her again takes over, and I wind up pulling into her driveway behind her car.

I wonder if she’s gonna be irritated that I’m just dropping by unannounced, but it’s too late now that I’ve rung her doorbell. She appeared to be less skittish about having me in her house when she invited me in after our run this morning, so I try and let that worry go.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, completely taken off guard.

I don’t even let her see an ounce of my uncertainty when I give her a playful grin and step inside. “I ran out to grab some dinner and knew you weren’t doing anything tonight, so I drove here instead of back to my place.”

“Oh . . .”

“That a problem?” I ask as I head into her kitchen.

“Ummm . . . no. I just . . .” she mumbles.

“Just what?” I ask, looking at her, cute as hell in her pajamas.

“Just surprised that’s all. Why didn’t you just text me?”

“Because I figured you would probably tell me you were studying.” I start rummaging around, opening drawers, until I find a bottle opener. Popping the caps off the beer, I hand her one as she nods, agreeing with my last statement, and I shoot her a wink before taking a sip.

“So, how was the rest of your day?” I ask as I move around her kitchen, grabbing plates and a few napkins.

“Good. I got a lot done actually,” she says as she watches me.

“Great, let’s eat then. Do you mind grabbing the beer?”

“No problem.”

Walking into her living room, we set everything down on the coffee table and make ourselves comfortable on the couch.

She opens the pizza box to grab a slice, and then turns to me, asking, “How did you know I like pineapple on my pizza?”

“I didn’t. Like I said, I got this for me before deciding to come over.”

“Oh.”

Leaning forward I take a slice and sit back to eat as I watch her do the same. The thought of being out with Gavin right now just doesn’t even compare to this—sitting here, with this girl I’m getting know. I’m enjoying it. It satisfies me in a way I never would have expected.

“So, you know what I did with my day. What about you?” she asks.

She told me this morning that she was spending the day studying then going to the studio to rehearse. “After our run, I went to the gym to do some lifting. Then later, I went to the bar to work. Had to sign off on a bunch of paperwork and inventory orders. That’s pretty much it,” I tell her.

Nodding her head, we continue to eat our dinner when I suggest, “Wanna watch something on TV?”

She picks up the remote and hands it to me. Flipping through the channels, I already know she’s a fan of MTV, so I decide to go for one of my channels. When I land on TCM and they’re playing one of my favorite movies, I set the remote down, get comfortable, and wait for it. Knowing she’s gonna tease me, I find myself already enjoying her reaction when she says, “What the heck is this?”

“You don’t know this movie?” I ask, mocking a serious tone, playing right into her.

“Does anyone know this movie?”

Smiling, I say, “Candace, it’s a classic.” Seeing the blank look on her face, I continue, “It’s ‘Double Indemnity’ from the 1940’s. It’s a great movie.”

“You watch a lot of these movies?”

Shaking my head, I tell her, “Sit back and just watch. You’ll like it.”

When she sits back with me, I start to explain the movie. “See that girl? Her name is Phyllis and that guy is an insurance agent that she is trying to seduce.”

“Why?”

“Because she wants him to murder her husband so she can collect the money from his policy.”

“Oooh, I like her already,” she playfully says, and gets me laughing.

“Just watch.”

Kicking our feet up on the coffee table, we lean back and watch the movie. After a while I feel her head drop onto my shoulder. Looking down, her eyes are closed. I don’t move for a while, scared of how she’ll react. After what happened in my car yesterday, I make sure she’s sound asleep before I slip my hand under her head and lower her onto my lap.

She curls up into a ball, and I take this moment to really look at her. Her skin is light and flawless. I gently run the back of my hand down her cheek and along her jaw. She’s soft. I knew she would be. My heart begins to beat faster at the subtle contact.

I sink down into the couch, getting comfortable, and observe the stark contrast of her dark, thick lashes as they fan across the tops of her cheekbones. Leaning my head back, I relax with finally having her close to me. The warmth of her against me is something I’ve been craving. Even though she isn’t giving this to me—I’m taking it right now—it appeases me for the time being, hoping that one day she’ll want to give this to me. That simple thought alone is enough for me to know that I’m falling hard for this girl, and that worries me, because I know better than to allow myself to feel like this. But with her, all my logic seems to dissipate.

I let her sleep for a while, but when I begin to grow tired myself, I know I need to wake her. She’s out cold when I lean over and whisper, “Candace.”

When I run my hand down her arm, she starts to stir. “Candace . . . Candace, wake up.”

Her eyes slowly flutter open and when she looks up at me, she locks them to mine. I can tell she isn’t fully awake as she continues to stare. Out of nowhere, she startles me when she lurches off of the couch, finally coherent and free from her haze.

“Are you okay?” I ask when I stand up, and as soon as I step towards her, she shoots her hands out, wanting me to stay away. She’s scared of me, and I hate that. Whatever it is she’s dealing with, whatever is causing her to react this way, I just want to comfort her, but there’s no way she’d let me if I tried.

“I’m sorry,” I say as calmly as I can, not wanting to freak her out any more than she is. “I didn’t want to leave you without you locking the door behind me. You fell asleep, and I didn’t want to wake you, so I let you sleep for a while.”

“I’m sorry,” she breathes out.

“For what?”

Lowering her hands, she looks a little mortified when she explains, “Startling easily. I didn’t know I fell asleep. I’m just . . . I was just disoriented.”

“Candace,” I quietly say, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable with me. I step toward her, and when she doesn’t move away, I take my hand and brush aside a lock of her hair that’s fallen across her forehead. I feel her stiffen, and I quickly pull back.

“I’ll lock the door behind you,” she says.

“Let me help you clean this up.”

She looks at the mess and tells me, “I’ll do it. It’s all trash anyway.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

She follows me as I walk to the door. Before I leave, I turn back and she’s right next to me. She has to tilt her head to look up at me, and when I see her from this angle, she looks so fragile. When her eyes shift up to meet mine, I softly tell her, in all seriousness, “I want you to feel comfortable with me.”

I notice her shallow breaths when she whispers, “I know.”

“Okay. So, we’ll talk later?”

When she softens her face and says, “Yeah,” I feel better about leaving.