I dug my head deeper into the plush cushion behind me, self-pity shrouding me in a dark cloud so thick I could almost see it.
“What happens if I fail at the end of thirty days, Gumbo? Do you know?”
“I do.” Gumbo hopped on my lap, placing a paw on each shoulder and holding my eyes. I could not think of anything more disconcerting. “The magic held by Agatha and the house will be returned to the Mighty Oak. It will disperse it as it feels necessary.”
“There’s more,” Brianne chimed in. “The Twins are technically on loan to our realm. Sort of like a work visa. They will be forced to return.”
“That’s right.” Gumbo hopped off my lap and snuggled closer to Brianne. “And all of the good we can do at the Magnolia will be whisked away.”
Whoa. So, no pressure there. If I leaned in to the repercussions, a small thread of panic rose in my chest. What would happen to Lauren? To the patients I had not seen because they didn’t trust me yet? No wonder the Twins were so hostile. I held their future in my hands.
“Great.” I sunk deeper into the couch, like it might swallow me whole, crossing my arms with a hefty pout.
“But you won’t let that happen, Sweets.” Brianne gave me her signature supportive smile. “You’ve got everything you need inside you. You just have to embrace it.”
Embrace it. I couldn’t remember being embraced in ages. Or having someone believe in me and call me Sweets. I closed my eyes, trying to fight off the sense of despair
When was the last time Jeff said anything remotely kind to me? Or looked at me like anything other than a roommate? And though I’d been the one to stab the heart of my relationship with my son, we’d been distant for years before he severed ties.
I couldn’t pinpoint when I’d checked out of my own life. Maybe itwasn’t an exact moment. Maybe, over time, I’d taken on the roles expected of me and performed them adequately. Wife. Mother. Therapist.
But had I ever truly embraced any of them? Nope.
I’d been on autopilot. Going through the motions.
The only time I trulyfeltanything was when a panic attack engulfed me. And that was not the life I wanted for myself. Not anymore.
Something stirred, deep in my core. I had it inside me. I’d seen hints of it, hadn’t I?
I sat up, waving my hand around, as if the cloud were truly surrounding me. As if I were clearing a fog. As if I were blowing away the stank in the room.
Brianne still sat nearby while I disappeared inside my thoughts, prepared to comfort. Gumbo, the mystical protector, his silky-smooth fur warm against my thigh, had jumped to my aid more than once.
Maybe the Twins weren’t on my side, but they still needed me to succeed. And the two here now believed in me. I felt certain Lauren and Ethan would support me. Plus, I had a giant wolf on my side. Maybe.
I wasn’t alone anymore.
I’d made mistakes. A ton of them. I couldn’t say whether I could correct them all.
But I sure as shit wanted to try. After all, I had nothing left to lose.
The blanket on the rocker shifted before drifting to the floor. Why did it look familiar? Where had I seen that before? It wasn’t the blanket itself that drew me in, it was the color…
Then, it hit me.
“I’ll be right back.” I darted off the couch and down the hallway to the bedroom.
It had been the first room to truly call to me. The first to comfort me. This time, when I entered and really paid attention to the design, I finally understood why. The bedroom I was living in today was an updated, adult version of the bedroom I’d had as a child.
At the foot of the bed was a new piece of furniture, one that wasn’t there when I first got here. It was a blanket chest with chipped corners and a scratched surface.
Okay, so, it wasn’t new. Not exactly. It carried layers of paint from the times I’d redecorated. It had once been the same soft greens as thisroom. In college, I’d painted it pastel pink and used a store-bought stencil to add brightly colored tulips.
When Jeff and I bought a house, I’d painted it blue. The same color as the items I’d shoved inside.
I dropped to my knees in front of it, lifting the top—remembering at the last second it tended to swing closed on my fingers—and reaching inside to drag out the contents.
A few of my mother’s favorite books. A picture album. A necklace I carried around but never wore or got rid of.
