Lauren
The truth is,I’m exhausted, and I don’t have time to rest. I wake up before five most mornings and spend several hours doing research, making sure all of our records are up to date, and finalizing our cover cropping plan. By six or seven, I’m out in the fields with the cowboys, moving cattle, mending fences, or tending to a sick calf.
When I finally come home, I barely have the energy to cook before I fall asleep on the couch, and on the days I have free time, I fill all the little cracks with time spent with Jax, Callie and Olivia, or my parents. If I told Jax that, he’d probably feel guilty for taking my time, but Iwantto spend time with him. Unfortunately, indulging in time with the people I love also means I don’t have any to spend alone. I haven’t even picked up the books Jax bought me in Tulsa, and I feel terrible about it.
Nevertheless, I don’t know that Iwantthe free time. I can’t get my brain to turn off long enough to enjoy it. I’d just sit there reading the same page over and over again,ruminating on the fact that I should be working on my plans to make sure we’re ready to implement regenerative ag this spring.
Ultimately, it’s much better for me to spend all my time busy. This way I’m either working on things I need to get done or spending time with people whose company is enough to temporarily distract me from the things that need to get done.
It’s torture not letting Jax in, but it’s for his own good. He’s done so much to help me since we created that list. I can’t stand the thought of unloading on him. It’d be like telling him that everything he’s done for me is a waste because I’m still drowning. I care for him too much to let him think that when I’m the problem. I need to figure out how to balance my life on my own. I’m grateful for his support in everything I do, but I don’t want our relationship to be about Jax fixing me.
“How long have you felt like this?” He breaks my thoughts, and I look up at him.
“Like what?”
“I see the exhaustion on your face. If you won’t tell me the extent of it, at least tell me how long you’ve felt this way.”
“I don’t know. Several months. I don’t want to talk about it.”
His eyes look sad, almost desperate, when he asks, “Why?”
It’s then I realize that not sharing what’s going on might be hurting him too. I need to give him something. “I don’t talk about my problems.” I shrug. “It doesn’t do anyone any good. I just need to put my head down and work.”
“You need to talk to someone about how you’re feeling.It’s not good to keep everything bottled up.” He rubs my back.
“It’s worse to express it all. When I tried talking with Austin about it, he’d only remind me that he was dealing with similar stresses and was managing okay.”
“That was Austin. He’s an asshole!” His voice has a sharp edge that draws my attention immediately, but when he turns toward me, his voice softens again. “He had no right to invalidate your feelings like that. If you say you’re tired and overwhelmed, it’s no one’s place to tell you you’re not.”
I nod.
“I’m not him. I want to know how you’re feeling.”
I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear someone say that. The overwhelming sense of validation causes a tear to slither down my cheek.No. No. No. No. No.
I quickly swipe it away. “Gosh, I’m sorry. I’m ruining our date. I don’t want you to worry about me, okay? That’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”
Something that almost looks like relief fills his eyes. “So it’s not that you don’t trust me?”
“Of course not. You’re wonderful.”
A dopey smile settles on his lips. “I’m glad you feel comfortable enough to express emotion in front of me.” He gently swipes another tear from my cheek. “I know you want to spend time together, but I’d be a terrible boyfriend if I let all of this go and didn’t work with you to find a way to get you some quality self-care time, so wait right here and give me five minutes. I’m going to help you relax.”
“No, it’s o—” But he’s alreadygone.
As promised, Jax returns after ten minutes, a giant grin on his face.
When he grabs my hand, drawing me toward my bedroom, I can’t help but ask, “What’re you up to, Grinchie?”
“Is that really what you landed on?”
“No, but I like the way it makes you scrunch up your nose.” I tap his nose. “It’s endearing.”
“I guess I’ll have to try to stop scrunching my nose,” he says, involuntarily scrunching it again and making me laugh.
When we reach the doorway of my bathroom, he pauses, letting me take in the scene before me. The bathroom light is off, but a couple of my tea light candles line a full bubble bath. My book rests on the ledge of the tub along with my Bluetooth speaker. The room smells like my lavender essential oil too.
“I’m impressed.” I turn to him. “You threw all of this together in ten minutes? How’d you know what to do with the essential oils?”
