“Do you still talk to her?”
He shakes his head immediately, reaching for the mug at his feet only to remember it’s empty. “It’s been, uh…” He sniffles once. “Well, she ended things about a year ago. I think it’s been a little over six-ish months since she finally gave up on me.”
I hear movement at the door to my left and turn, seeing Grayson standing at the threshold. He asks if I’m okay, and I nod, gesturing for him to bring another cup of coffee to Lukas.
“Do you know how Grayson and I met?”
“Which time?”
I chuckle at that. “The second time.”
“The clinic, right?”
I nod. “A clinic in Willow Creek, but did he tell you why I was there?”
Lukas shakes his head no.
I take a sip of my coffee, letting the warmth burn my throat. “I’ve had anxiety ever since I was a little kid. Iremember being little, around five maybe, watching my friends play on the playground and not understanding why I didn’t feel like them. How come they were always so happy? Why weren’t they worried about falling and skinning their knees? Weren’t they worried that someone would be mean to them, that they’d do something and get in trouble? Weren’t they worried about what the afternoon of class would look like? What might happen on the bus ride home?”
Lukas turns to look at me, and for the first time in our conversation, his gaze stays with me.
“It got worse as I got older, but I was able to recognize it for what it is. I’ve done therapy, workbooks, I’m medicated with the best of them.” I set my mug in my lap, swiping away a brown drip that’s making its way down my cup. “It got to the point that I couldn’t make it through an ER shift without needing to stop to take a sedative.” They were prescribed; my doctor knows what I do for a living and I was open with my supervisor, but each time I had to do it, it felt like I failed.
“Then one day, a particularly bad day, I was sleep deprived, burnt out. It was one of those days where the lights felt too bright, the alarms beeped too loudly, everything overstimulated me, and then I had to tell a woman who was my age that her husband didn’t survivean accident.” My throat burns from the memories. “I couldn’t do it,” I tell Lukas, and the tears brimming in his eyes are a reflection of my own. “I lost it. I panicked, fell to my knees in the middle of the ER and was fighting for my breath.” I nearly passed out. The rolls reversed and I quickly became the patient. When I had calmed down, the humiliation set in. “After a forced leave of absence and mandatory counseling classes, I was able to slowly start to return to work, and that’s where I met Grayson.”
As if summoned by his name, the screen door creaks, and Grayson exits the house, holding a new cup of coffee for the both of us. He hands one to Lukas, and then one to me, taking my cold half-full cup back inside.
“My only point of telling you my sob story is that I know what it’s like to feel like you lost your dream. To be broken. To be depressed and anxious and feel like you’ve fallen. I know what it’s like to be embarrassed of the mess you’ve made, to feel like there isn’t anyone in your life to lean on. But then I met a really great person who pointed out that a mess isn’t the end. Maybe it’s a chance to figure out a new way.”
He nods, a slow, simple bob of his head. But then the act grows, like he’s truly understanding what I’m telling him. “Wow,” he huffs out, taking another sip of coffee. “Now I really feel like a dick for treating you like shit.”
“It’s alright,” I say on instinct, and Lukas balks at me.
“No, it’s not. Don’t let me off that easily.”
We chuckle a little, and I ease back into the chair. "There aren't any awards to win for keeping your suffering to yourself. It's okay to let it go, Lukas, to let someone in."
He gives a half-hearted nod. "Mags was good at that, at getting me to talk. It's been hard since…" his eyes stay focused ahead, seemingly on the open door of the horse barn when his words change course. “It doesn’t feel like last night was real.”
I twist my brows together, turning to face him. “Which part?”
“Everything after the bar. I’ve had some real down days this last year, but that…” he trails off, and I can see his shoulders wanting to draw up, to cower over his actions. “I’ve been in fights before, but last night felt … violent. I couldn’t control myself. That’s never been me, Holly, I swear. I’ve never lost it like that.”
I suck in a breath, wanting to catch him while he’s in this moment, but not wanting to scare him off. “Sometimes we need the help of others to get out of a dark place.”
He nods, a slight bobble of his head, but I don’t think he means it.
“I could work with you, if you’d like.” I don’t have nearly the skillset that a licensed therapist or psychiatrist might have, but I have some experience with mental health. “Or I’d be happy to find you an appropriate counselor. But I think you need to talk to someone, Lukas. You need to let out what is making you so bitterly angry.”
“Candi is pregnant.”
His statement is so unexpected, so abrupt, I choke on my own saliva, sitting up so quickly that my coffee sloshes over the side of the cup, soaking my lap.
“Shit,” I hiss, swiping it away and setting my mug on the wicker table next to me. “What?” I turn to make sure no one can hear us. I had only learned of Candi last night, as I’m sure his brothers did. I’m not even sure if his parents know he was seeing someone, let alone that the relationship is over.
“I know,” Lukas says, scrubbing his hands over his face. “Fuck, we dated for only a few weeks. We sort of realized we didn’t have much in common outside of the bedroom, and during that time, she had taken her dog to the new vet in town, only to realize she had a crush on the doctor. She suggested we end it, and I was thankful.”
“And now?” I prompt.
