Making Me Sane (Sanity Book 2) (17 page)

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yep.”

We walk down the porch steps, across the yard, and to the sidewalk. Lily is walking happily next to Trace. He reaches over to intertwine our fingers and gives my hand a light squeeze.

“You’ve had me worried; I haven’t heard from you all day. How was your appointment?”

“Good. I basically had two sessions because the person after me canceled and she let me talk that long. She was able to get me into a psychiatrist tomorrow. Hopefully, I’ll like this one. And I was going to text you, but work was chaos when I got there. We have another big event coming up. It’ll probably be crazy for a while. How was your day?” I ask, glancing over at him.

A short sigh leaves him. “Long. Hoping that between you and the walk, it will serve as a pick-me-up. My bad days come every so often, and it’s just about that time. Well, it wasn’t a bad day; just one of those days that are a bit of a struggle, you know?” He looks at me since I’ve stopped walking because I’m too busy staring.

He told me.

Without having to push and prod and search for signs, he told me he’s having a bad day.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” His voice is curious with a hint of amusement as if he knows I’m stunned. He’s so damn gorgeous and cute.

Before I can think twice about it, I step closer, lift onto my toes as I grab his T-shirt in my fists, and I kiss him. Trace locks an arm around my waist to hold me closer. I don’t have to be prodded for my mouth to open and his tongue to sweep inside. The evening is hot as it is and I’m starting to burn from the inside out with every brush of his mouth. Kissing Trace is like that feeling when you’ve been on a health kick, drinking nothing but water, and suddenly, you get a tall, cold glass of your favorite soda. It tastes
so good
and quenches your thirst for that one, specific drink. Unfortunately, it also makes you crave more.

More of Trace’s tight grip around my waist.

More of his mouth sending delicious waves of pleasure all over my body, even though he hasn’t left my mouth.

More of his body against mine.

More exploring of other places, like the area where his hard length is against my stomach.

Too much need is coursing through me, and it makes me want to drag him back to the house.

This is too soon; we’re supposed to be taking things slow.

I pull my head back and stare into those probing hazel eyes. Both of us are breathing a little heavy. Lily’s own panting draws my attention when she nudges her nose against my leg. I glance down at her and laugh.

“Sorry, girl. Back to walking, I know.” Trace is still holding onto me. “Are you going to let me go?” I ask with a teasing tone and a playful smile.

“Never.” He kisses my forehead and then lets go of me, so we can start walking again.

“I’m proud of you,” I blurt out.

“Why?”

He can’t seriously not know, can he? He seems genuinely confused. It hurts my heart a little because now I’m wondering if he doesn’t see what I see.

“You’ve made so much progress, Trace. You set your mind to doing better and you did it. You don’t let the bad days overwhelm you and take over.”

Trace shrugs it off. “Wasn’t easy. Still isn’t, but I kept thinking about the end game and what I wanted.” He looks at me. “You.”

Somehow, my heart breaks a little more while also putting a few pieces back together. It’s a bittersweet ache that nevertheless gives me a reason to smile. For the first time, I feel like I’m finally starting to heal.

We don’t say anything for a while after that. Trace’s route is simply half a mile down the road and back.

“So,” Trace begins, “I was thinking you could stay over Friday night and we could go look at apartments Saturday morning.”

“That sounds like a plan. What are we doing for our date, by the way?”

“You’ll find out,” he answers with a smirk. “All I’ll say is that I plan for it to be laid back and relaxing.”

Which sounds perfect. This week has been stressful and I’ve been worried about our date, wondering if I’ll have any energy left by the time the end of the week gets here. I don’t want my mood or anxiety to ruin the date.

“Hey, how’s your mom doing?”

“Good. I talked to her yesterday after I left your house. She’s still pretty worried about me, especially when I told her if I could find another place, I’ll be moving soon. She didn’t say it, but I think she’s worried about so much going on at once. It’s life, though, right? Have to learn how to juggle it all.”

“And I have complete faith in you,” Trace says as we reach his house. “Do you want to stay for dinner?”

YES!
my mind shouts. However, I answer, “I should probably go. I need to run by the grocery store and do laundry.” The desire to jump into his arms and demand he have his way with me is still too strong. I don’t want to tempt fate just yet. Trace nods, kisses me briefly, and then opens the door to my car for me.

“Text me if you need me.”

“I will,” I promise.

“And text me if you don’t.”

“I will,” I laugh.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Trace was right. Sometimes a simple walk can do wonders for a person. I feel...weightless. After being bogged down, heavy with the weight of thousands of my mind’s burdens, I finally feel light, as if I’m floating above the surface. It’s a wonderful feeling. All thanks to Trace reentering my life and pulling me back above water, so I can get my fight back.

Unfortunately, the struggle, the weight and heaviness, returns the moment I enter my apartment and am surrounded by the silence of being alone with my dangerous thoughts.

Brittany:
Positive #1 – I am now medicated.

Brittany:
Positive #2 – I think I’ll like him.

Brittany:
Positive #3 – Work is slow today.

Me:
Happy to hear all of those things!

“Have you heard about me?”

I lift my gaze from my phone to Ben. We’re out at lunch and I’m confused by his question. “Heard what?”

His shoulders deflate just a little. “Brittany hasn’t said anything about me?”

“Why would she?”

“Because I’m dating her co-worker!”

“Maybe Melissa hasn’t told her yet, or she assumed I already knew,” I say as I try to come up with some explanation. After all, it’s been days since they first met and Ben hasn’t said anything to me until now.

“This kinda bums me out.”

I laugh. “You’ll get over it. So, you’re dating her?”

“Yeah. I’ve seen her just about every other day. I think she could be the one.”

“It hasn’t even been a week,” I point out.

“I don’t care. If I could marry her tomorrow, I would.” He sounds and looks so serious and sure, too.

“You’re insane. You barely know her!”

“I know enough,” he replies confidently. “I’m telling you right now, all the bad shit I got going on, I’m changing for her. People don’t do that for just anybody.”

That is true. “You should do it for yourself.”

Ben shrugs. “She motivates me better than I can myself.”

Makes sense. I mean, it took falling in love with Brittany and then walking away to realize how much work I needed to put into myself, how much I needed to better myself. She motivated me more than I or anyone else ever could.

Ben continues, “You’re improving yourself for Brittany because one day, you see yourself marrying her, don’t you? Same thing.”

It is
so
not the same thing, but I don’t say that. Instead, I reply, “Keyword being one day. I had a hard enough time getting her back, and now, I have to earn her trust that I won’t abandon her ever again. Proposing isn’t going to happen for a long time.”

“Proposing with the promise of spending forever together could be a good way to get her to trust you.”

I laugh because that’s ridiculous. “A promise shown with a ring isn’t going to mean much when I’ve broken promises before. Why are we even talking about this?”

He shrugs and we change the subject, thankfully. Marriage isn’t exactly an easy topic for me, considering my first one was an epic failure. That was ninety-nine percent my fault. I’m better now than I was then, but that doesn’t mean I’m fit to be married either. There’s still work to be done. Brittany and I need to be able to have a stable relationship before we can even think about the next step.

I shove all of those thoughts out of my head the moment I step into the office for the rest of the work day. The day passes by smoothly, and soon, Brittany and I are stepping onto the sidewalk for our walk with Lily.

“Did you know that Melissa and Ben are still seeing each other?”

Brittany nods. “She told me; I figured you already knew.”

“Ben mentioned it today at lunch.”

“Do y’all always have lunch together?” she asks.

“Usually. How was your day?”

“Good. Last night was kinda hard, though. I need to figure out how to handle being alone in my apartment. I had always lived with someone before I had to get my own place, and I don’t think it’s supposed to be this hard.”

“How is it hard?” I’m sure to ask in a curious, gentle way. I want to know what it is about being alone in her home that makes her struggle. Maybe I can help her with it.

She seems to think about it. “I don’t know. It’s like I can’t turn my thoughts off. It’s too quiet and my mind is so loud. I tried listening to music, but it made me feel worse. I tried to find something funny on TV, but I didn’t really feel anything. I gave Melissa what alcohol I had left, so that temptation is gone. It felt more like I was sitting around, twiddling my thumbs, and trying not to think about anything in particular. What if I’m a person who can’t live alone because it’ll drive me mad?”

It didn’t even occur to me that something like that could be an issue for her. It makes sense, especially if she’s used to, in a way, relying on someone else to keep her distracted and out of her own head. I don’t get a chance to answer because Brittany keeps talking.

“I mean, look at what happened. I moved into my own place, stopped taking my meds, and let myself spiral out of control. What if—”

“Britt, you’re capable of living alone,” I interrupt. “Is it a little harder? Yes, of course. Can you do it anyway? Absolutely. You just need to find out what helps rather than hurts. Like, do you remember when you walked in on me cleaning and listening to music?”

She laughs. “Yeah because you were listening to Justin Bieber.”

“My point is that day, I was struggling and wishing I wasn’t home alone. So, I turned on some music and started cleaning my house. That helps me space out for a while without it being a bad thing.”

“My apartment is spotless because I keep cleaning it to find something to do other than watch TV.”

“Watching a show or movie doesn’t help?”

Brittany shakes her head. “It doesn’t keep my focus.”

Hmm. I think for a moment before coming up with an alternative. “What about reading? Have you tried that?”

“No. I don’t even know what I would want to read. I haven’t read for fun in a long time because I always had school to make me read a freaking textbook. I’ll stop by a bookstore on the way home and try it.”

“Good.”

We walk in comfortable silence. Living alone does make managing our anxiety and depression harder, but there are also aspects to living with someone that make it harder, too. Pretty much anything can make it worse, really. Everyone is different and has different triggers. We have to find a way to control it to the best of our abilities.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” I ask as we approach my house.

“No, it’ll push off the inevitable. Besides, I’m staying over tomorrow night.”

“All right.” I try not to sound too disappointed because I am glad that she’s not saying yes to prevent from going home. I’m proud of her. She’s facing her issues head on again. I’m still sad I don’t get to spend more time with her today. However, I will have all of tomorrow night and Saturday with her. We’re at her car now, so I lean down to give her a kiss. “I’m here if you need me.”

She nods before getting into her car and driving away.