We didn’t talk anymore last night. I took off my hoodie and got into bed, making her the little spoon. I was asleep in an instant, and I slept just as well as I did the last time I was in her bed.
I can’t tell if it’s the mattress or the woman next to me.
Definitely Juniper.
The early morning sun peeks through the curtains and shines a light on her, like the universe is saying I made the right choice in coming over last night. I could stay in bed all day with her, only cuddling, and be happy.
Happy.
How long has it been since I’ve felt anything close to the emotion?
Since Artemis died and I had to stop racing, I’ve been in survival mode, on the run, trying to escape the grief. Even when I was competing, I didn’t stick around places too long. I was chasing the thrill of the race, the next new experience. My parents supported me, and they check in once in a while, but they’re the kind of parents who think once a child turns eighteen, they’re no longer responsible for them.
Seeing how Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun treat their kids makes me ache for something I never had. The love they have for not onlytheir own children, but every person who steps foot on their ranch is amazing. They welcome everyone with open arms, and I only hope that if I have kids someday, I can be like them.
Juniper stirs, pulling me from my thoughts. Her dark eyelashes flutter before her eyes open, and a soft, sleepy smile makes the corners of her eyes crinkle.
“Good morning,” she whispers.
I dance my fingers up and down her spine, relishing the way she snuggles impossibly closer to me. “Good morning, sunshine. Sleep okay?”
She hums in affirmation. “I don’t want to get up.”
“Me either, but chores need to be done. We can snuggle a little bit longer, though.”
“I’m liable to fall back asleep if we do. I haven’t been sleeping great this past week.”
Guilt swirls around my stomach, and it must be written all over my face because Juniper pecks me on the cheek.
“It’s not your fault. First full week of the season always has my anxiety spiking. Makes it more difficult to sleep.”
“I’m still sorry I added to your anxiety. I feel like I should make it up to you.”
“Hm….” She taps her chin. “You can make it up to me by agreeing to spend the night with me on the weekends. I-if you want. I won’t make you, obviously.”
I hate the uncertainty in her tone.
Rolling us so I’m hovering over her, I lean down so our noses touch. “I’d love nothing more.” I kiss her slowly, hopefully pouring all my sincerity into the kiss. “Now, let’s get a move on before I decide I want to keep you in bed all day.”
“Fine.But I wouldn’t be opposed to that, especially since none of my toys seem to make me come the way you do.”
I groan, rolling off of her and standing from the bed. It never occurred to me to ask if she has toys, but now that I know, I’ll be utilizing them as soon as possible.
Chapter 18
The past monthhas been equal parts agonizingly slow and speeding by way too fast. With how busy the ranch has been, I haven’t even had a chance to see the wildflower blooms. My social battery is consistently drained by the end of each week, and the only thing keeping me from completely melting down is knowing that come Friday night, Addison is snuggled up next to me.
I have therapy today, and my nerves are high. I only have it once a month now that my anxiety and depression are pretty under control. I haven’t told Colleen about Addison sleeping in my bed, but we worked through what happened in Missoula, and I told her Addison helped me through my panic attack. I told her I feel like a failure for still getting them, and she kindly reminded me that a panic attack or setback is not a failure, but an opportunity to reevaluate triggers and learn new coping skills.
I’ve been seeing Colleen virtually for the past four years. At one point, my anxiety and depression got so bad that I wouldn’t leave the ranch at all, not even to see my friends. I barely left my bed. If anyone wanted to see me, they had to come to me. I didn’t go out, I didn't socialize, and I had no logical reason for it. It constantly felt like one of the steers from Reclamation Ranch wassitting on my chest, making it hard to breathe. All I wanted to do was sleep. Even sitting on the porch seemed like a monumental task.
When Mama suggested I might need to talk to someone, the shame I felt for worrying my parents gave me the push to go. I didn’t want to be a burden on them, and I didn’t want to keep feeling like the embodiment of a dark cloud.
Mama and Daddy are amazing parents. They never hit us, hardly ever yelled, and I had a good childhood. Other than moving from Texas, there weren’t a lot of big events that happened that I thought could trigger such a response. During our third session, when I expressed that to Colleen, she explained that sometimes there isn’t any one event. Sometimes, the chemicals in the brain are simply off balance. That helped me feel less rueful about my mental health struggles. I can’t control my brain chemicals.
I feel bad that I haven’t told Colleen I’m seeing Addison romantically, especially when she’s the one who helped me through my spiral after my ex-girlfriend ended things with me two years ago. We weren’t together long, only six months, but it hit me hard. I blamed myself, even though my ex specifically said we couldn’t be together because she was moving to a different country. Our breakup was one of necessity, but I spent a hot minute thinking it was because I don’t want to move away from Copper Creek.
But I won’t spiral when this thing with Addison ends. I already know it has an expiration date, and I’m prepared for the heartbreak. Will I be devastated? Probably, but it won’t send me into a depression.
