Brent grunted. “No.”
Paul considered that. “Excellent. I won’t ask.” He clapped his hands once, reclaiming the room. “Alright, check-in. Scale of one to five what’s your emotional capacity this morning?”
We started every morning this way: a quick, honest read of bandwidth. Paul actually used it too. Whenever possible he shifted assignments, adjusting expectations, doing everything he could to keep us from burning out. An act of leadership that made a big difference in this line of work and part of why we all respected the hell out of him.
One by one we gave our numbers. When it came to me, I said, “Two.”
All heads snapped in my direction, surprise on their faces. I rarely dipped below a three. With therapy, my gym routine, and a solid support network, I usually managed myself pretty well, and my current caseload wasn’t even heavy.
“I’m currently supporting a survivor outside our usual intake flow,” I explained. “I’ll be fully present with my assigned clients, but if we can avoid placing new DV cases on my docket this week, I’d appreciate it. This one’s bringing up a lot about Carrie.”
Everyone on the team, including Shawn, knew about Carrie. I’d never hidden my motives for why I’d chosen this line of work, and I figured it was safer for everyone that the team was aware.
“Understood. We’ll adjust your case workload. You’ll do DV consult backup only, and if you take on anything new, I’ll make sure it’s not DV related. Cool?” Paul said.
“Yeah. Thank you.”
We closed the check-in and ran triage for thirty minutes—court dates, safety plans, resource gaps, the usual chessboard. When we adjourned, I caved and pulled out my phone.
Me:This is your new housemate reporting from the field to say good morning. Hope you had a good night’s rest.
Oliver:Morning. “Slept” might be generous. I closed my eyes and pretended to be unconscious. Does that count?
Not surprising sleep had been rough. Pain, a strange bed, and everything he’d just walked away from... rest wouldn’t come easy for a while.
Me:Not ideal, but we’ll get there. Sleep is a stubborn mule sometimes. Today’s goal can be to remain horizontal while consuming snacks.
Oliver:Lofty goals. I’ll try not to overexert myself with the intense labor of chewing.
I chuckled. Behind the safety of a text, his snark made more of an appearance. I liked it.
Me:Good plan. Gotta pace yourself. Hydrate between bites. Take stretch breaks if the chewing becomes too strenuous.
Oliver:I’ll be sure to eat at a manageable pace. Wouldn’t want to pull a jaw muscle and set back my recovery.
While I liked the attitude he threw at me, I also knew how hiding behind sarcasm was a defense mechanism.
Me:Real talk for a sec?
Me:How’s the pain this morning? And how ya doing?
Oliver:Feel like I’ve been levelled by an 18-wheeler, but I took the meds you left out. They’re helping.
Me:I’m glad. Thanks for being honest. I know it’s not fun to talk about. I gotta jet to a meeting, but please reach out if you need anything.
Oliver:Thank you, Luke. For everything.
Chapter 10
Oliver
For the fifth consecutive night, a broken cry tore me from sleep, gasping for breath. I might have escaped the physical walls of Vincent’s house, but he still lived inside me, an unwelcome tenant nestled deep in my mind. A resident I couldn’t evict.
Leaving the bed, I padded out into the living room, the place I inevitably ended up when the dreams turned venomous and sleep became a battleground I couldn’t win. The outline of the couch greeted me. Luke hadn’t said anything about my nightly migrations, but I knew he’d noticed, because after my first night spent on the couch, ever since, a blanket and an extra bed pillow were waiting for me.
I pulled the blanket around my shoulders and curled up against the arm of the couch, tucking the pillow under my head. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to relax, to breathe, to exist without the ever-present thrum of fear vibrating beneath my skin. But the remnants of the dream had fastened themselves to my brain, overriding it with fear and the ghost of Vincent’s hands still on me.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
