I never expected Walker would be the one to put the deepest of my feelings surrounding Mariah into words. One word, more specifically.Peace. She's offered me the peace I didn't think I would ever have. The pain is still there—likely always will be—but the edges of it don't cut as deep as they once did. I'm not bleeding endlessly.
"However, I am a little pissed that your mother's going to think she's responsible for this, because I know damn well she won't just stop at one of us."
I give him a grin. "It's not as bad as you think it is." I've always figured Walker stayed single for the same reason I did. Because he knew what loss felt like, and didn't have any interest in adding more of it to his plate. Yet another way our lives aligned.
But when Walker shakes his head, he says something that makes it clear our reasons for isolation aren't as similar as I thought. "I'm not worried it's bad. Actually, I'm pretty sure it's the best fucking thing that could ever happen." His hand drops from my shoulder. "But I can't ask someone to give themselves to me if I can't give myself back."
"I hope that changes for you." Now it's my turn to give him a pat on the shoulder. It’s the universal sign of manlyaffection we’re all comfortable with since hugging sometimes feels so fucking weird. "Maybe knowing the truth will help."
Walker appears unconvinced, but at least he says, "Maybe."
I walk him to the door, promising to set up a time to meet next week. Sending him on his way, I return to check on Mariah. I’m surprised to find her still awake, nursing her tea and nibbling on a cracker. I sit beside her, guilt tugging at my insides. If she's feeling this bad, she shouldn't have?—
"Don't look at me like that." She tilts her head, resting it on my shoulder as she curls toward me. "You said I could touch you whenever I wanted, and I did. So you can't be all weird about it now."
I pull her closer, dragging her into my lap where she always seems to end up. "I don't like when you don't feel good. I especially don't like it when I'm probably partially the cause of it." I can't imagine the act she performed on me did anything to help her gag reflex, and I'm already regretting telling her she had free reign of my body. Not because she doesn't, but because Mariah has a bad habit of inconveniencing herself for other people.
For me.
"You weren't responsible for it." She tips her head back, looking up at me. "I'm not trying to hurt your ego or anything, but I'm more than capable of wrangling what you have going on without making myself sick."
"It would take more than that to hurt my ego." I take her tea, setting it on the table since it's mostly gone. "Are you worried about your appointment tomorrow?"
"Yes." She gives me a simple answer, and it doesn't feel complete.
I won't try to pry anything else out of her, but now is probably a good time to fill her in on a decision I've made. "I can drive you to your appointment." I don't know who I think will benefit more from it, me or her. Probably me. "I'm not trying to control you or be overbearing?—”
"I know that." Mariah reaches up, her hand cradling the rightside of my face. "And I would appreciate it if you drove me. I think going completely alone would make my nerves even worse."
The thought of Mariah dealing with any of this alone sits sour in my stomach. She's so strong and so brave. I know she would put on a happy face and pretend like it was fine.
But it wouldn't be.
"You don't have to go to anything alone." I stroke down her arm, linking our fingers to hold her hand with mine. "I am at your disposal. Willing to chauffeur you anywhere you’d like to go."
Are there a few slight hiccups in my offer? Sure. The primary one being I don't technically own a car. Never needed one. Especially not in the age of grocery delivery and online superstores. Anything I’ve wanted has been available at the tips of my fingers. Before that, my family was understanding enough to help me meet my needs.
In addition, I don't particularly love going out in public. Historically, it’s caused me to have nightmares and pulled so much of my pain to the forefront. But maybe this time it can be different. Maybe knowing I'm doing it for Mariah will help keep that at bay. Even if it doesn't, I will still take her wherever she needs to go.
Because I’m not ever going to let her face any of this alone.
"Thank you." Mariah looks down at our joined hands, a thoughtful expression pinching her pretty features. "Did you know I wasn't originally the one who was supposed to come here?"
"I didn't." Everything in me twists tight at the possibility Mariah might not have come into my life. That I could've ended up with some random person wandering through my house, making me food and touching all my stuff. “How do you know that?”
“Because my best friend, Janie, was the first person your mom hired.” She gives me a little smile. “She decided to stay in Moss Creek and referred me since I…” She takes a deep breath. “Since I was looking for a change.”
And thank God she did. Because there’s not a doubt in my mind if Janie—or anyone else for that matter—had been the one walking in with my mother that day, I’d still be holed up in my room. Alone. Hidden from the world.
Hiding from myself.
25
Mariah
"Mariah?" The nurse standing in the open door scans the room.
I know she's waiting for me to get up. Identify myself in some way. But for some reason, my butt stays glued to the waiting room chair.
