“A reset program,” I say, acting more confident than I feel. “The counselor and I discussed it yesterday when I admitted that the weekly sessions weren’t working. I’ve got a daily routine to follow, limiting my exposure to triggers”—the words feel unfamiliar and strange on my tongue, but I push forward—“and attending group sessions in Ashland. I’ll keep working out, and Dad and I have some nature day plans.”
“Nature days,” Monroe echoes slowly.
I chuckle at the expression on his face. “Fishing, mostly, but maybe just sitting around and shooting the breeze, too.”
“Stephen is good at that, isn’t he?” Monroe leans back in his chair, arms resting on either side of him. “How long are you planning on this for?”
I swallow roughly, my eyes dropping away from his. “Three weeks,” I say. “With one volunteer day a week—not taking calls, but just supporting. Doing stuff around the station. Errands, maintenance, whatever’s needed.”
Monroe drums his fingers on his armrest, but doesn’t say another word until I lift my head, meeting his eyes again. “You’ve really thought this through,” he says, an edge of pride in his voice. “I’m glad, Braxton, and I hope it works. I felt like we were losing you for a second there.”
“I feel like I lost myself,” I say quietly. “And I lost something that matters more. But Ryan pointed out that I’m not going to have a shot of winning Gracie over if I don’t get myself to a healthy mental state.”
The corner of Monroe’s mouth drops. “You doing this for her, then?”
“No.” I sigh. “Well, yes and no. This job is a massive part of me. Something I feel like I was born to do. I know I’ll lose it if I don’t figure this out now. But the one thing I love more than this job is my girl. I won’t lie about wanting Gracie back, but the things I’ve done?” I lock stares with Monroe, my jaw setting with determination, and his mouth twitches. “It’s possible she’ll never give me another shot. It’s going to take a lot more than this to prove she can trust me again.”
Monroe nods once and stands up. I follow suit, watching as he rounds his desk, his hand out. I slap my palm against his, expecting a shake, but Monroe yanks me forward into a bone-crushing hug, slapping his giant damn hands against my back. “It’s good to see you again, Braxton. We’ve missed you around here these last few weeks.”
Wincing at the jolt he’s giving my organs, I step back and give him a crooked grin. “I’ve missed me too. Apparently, all I needed was to deck Ryan in the face.”
Monroe barks out a laugh. “Well, don’t make a habit of it. Or, if you’re gonna punch anyone, Marco’s ego could use some popping. He can barely fit through the fire station doors as it is.”
Shaking my head, I chuckle. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
CHAPTER 25
Braxton
“Cherise and I were thinking of having a dinner party,” Theo announces as she sits at the other end of the couch, a packet of potato chips rustling in her hand. “You’re coming.”
It’s the end of my first week back on shift, and everyone’s been treating me like nothing happened, like I was never even gone…Although I suppose I wasn’t, spending more time here than I planned, working through a list of jobs no one ever wanted to do, and we had all been ignoring for months.
We’re looking at the tail end of February now, and I still haven’t heard a word from Gracie. She’s on my mind more than not, even though I have no idea if she’s actually coming back to Sterling Creek.
I eye Theo, my mouth twitching. “A dinner party,” I repeat with no small amount of disbelief. “Do we have to dress up? I’m not wearing a suit.”
She lifts a shoulder, popping a chip in her mouth and crunching it loudly. “Don’t know, don’t care. It’s Cherise’s idea, and she said to invite the crew.” She looks at me, anunreadable expression in her eyes. “Ryan said he’s bringing a date.”
There’s an unasked question hovering in the air, but I stare back at her, unblinking. “That’s nice.”
Theo rolls her eyes. “Areyougoing to bring anyone?” she asks. “We’ll need to know for the seating arrangements.”
“Right,” I drawl. “For the dinner party you’rethinkingof throwing.” She doesn’t look away, a glint of humor in her eyes. I huff. “No, Theo. I will not be bringing a date. The only person I would want to bring isn’t in town, so…”
It’s a sick kind of irony that I was forcing distance between us for weeks before everything went to hell, and now Gracie has switched the roles around. Still, I’m so used to hearing from her that this silence is louder than everything else and impossible to misunderstand.
I’m that much of an asshole that I drove her out of the only place she’s ever seen as home. The one place she ever considered laying down roots.
My mother hasn’t told me where Gracie went, but she took enough pity on me to say they had spoken, and Gracie is okay.Except what the fuck does “okay”mean?
Each day that passes, my head has gotten a little clearer, my anger shrinking down until each breath doesn’t feel like I’m swallowing needles, and there isn’t this intense urge to peel my skin off like a suit. I wish I could say that I found a magic cure-all, but I still feel as fucked up as ever…But my perspective has shifted, I think.
I’ve gone to every counseling appointment with Martin in Ashland, and I also started going to a support group with other firefighters. It has helped—even when their harrowing stories were so much worse than my experience. I listened intently, taking on board their strategies to work through, and it was more helpful than anything Martin hassuggested—including showing me a way to talk about Allison and that day without dipping into my feelings.
Martin wanted to know every thought and feeling in my head, but Stevie, a firefighter I had one-on-one talks with, had me talk it through step by step, using technical terms and distance. It felt a little like doing a debrief with the chief, Stevie asking simple questions with purpose. I don’t know why separating the emotion away helped, but it gave me some clarity on that day that’s always been missing.
It meant that when Stevie told me that there was nothing he would have done differently that day, I believed it. There was nothing else I could’ve done for Allison and her family. Once I finally accepted that fact, something settled in me. I still have a long way to go, but the tightness that seemed to cinch around my chest for almost four months has loosened a fraction.
