“You don’t have?—”
“I need to feed myself and I’m not doing that without including you.” He grins. “Consider it payment for labor.”
I laugh. And unlike most of my laughter tonight, it’s filled with joy. Happiness I feel deep in my chest. “Okay, if you trust me on my own.”
“I do.” He turns then quickly spins back. “And if it helps, picture Peter’s face painted on the wall. Or Darryl’s. Anyone who you’ve ever wanted to smack.”
Grinning, I glance at the wall and see it. Peter’s thin face, Darryl’s pudgy one. What surprises me is the image of my grandfather my imagination adds. I face Devon again.
“Why the frown?” He’s next to me in a few long strides.
“I think I’m mad at more than my ex fiancé and his best friend.”
“Then smash ’em.” Gripping my shoulders, he turns me to face the wall. “Smash every one of them.”
“It feels wrong.”
“What? Wanting to hit them?”
How does he understand me so well? “Yes. The violence of imagining slamming a hammer into their faces.”
“You’d never do it in real life. This is a way to release the anger and frustration and disappointment, whatever emotion evokes the urge to hurt someone.”
“Are you a therapist in your spare time?”
“No. But I’ve had to channel my emotions in constructive ways in the past.”
“Did it help?”
“Yes. It didn’t solve the situation but it helped clear my emotions so I could think of ways to fix things without resorting to violence.”
“I don’t know if one wall will be enough.”
“Good. I’ve been short on labor around here.”
“You’d let me come back?”
“Lizzi, I don’t want you to leave.”
I don’t get a chance to question his words because he’s walking out of the room, leaving me alone to face my own emotions. Except unlike others, it doesn’t feel as though he’s abandoned me. He’s given me the tools and support to deal with today—hell, the last decade—how I see fit. Not how he’s thinks I should.
Turning back to the wall again, I stare at the dent I inflicted. I could put the sledgehammer down and not swing at it again and Devon wouldn’t think any less of me.
And that right there tells me a couple of things.
One, he’s a good guy, one who offers help without bulldozing me.
Two, in a few hours he’s let me be me, cowardly escape, crazy thoughts and self-pity tears. Not once has he told me anythingI’ve said or felt is wrong. In fact, he’s encouraged me to say and feel exactly what I want—what I need.
In less than one night, Devon Boyd has validated who I am more than anyone else in my life, and I want to hold on to that feeling more than I want to smash a hole in this wall.
6
DEVON
It’s hard to leave Lizzi alone. Except from experience I know she needs some space. At least, I do when I’m going through similar emotional upheaval. I’ve seen a number of emotions flicker through her eyes tonight and the one that gets to me the most is confusion.
She didn’t only run out on her wedding. When she made the decision to slip out of her wedding dress and leave the church, she ran out on life as she’s known it. On a future that had been meticulously planned.
