“Viv,” she says, steady and sure. “I’ve got the shop. Nothing’s going anywhere.”
Something in my chest pulls tight. That’s the thing, isn’t it? Thingsdogo. People do, too. But if I’m not the one making sure everything stays…who am I?
“Go,” she repeats, gentler this time.
The store blurs as I move—papers, trays, the half-finished display still sitting where I left it.
It feels like I’m leaving something important behind, but I trust that I’m not.
I push out the door, Lucy at the counter, watching me go.
Please be okay.
Please.
CHAPTER 22
TY
The chair is too comfortable. That’s my first thought, which is not the point of being here, but it’s the one that sticks as I sit across from Dr. Hale, hands loosely clasped, trying not to overthink the way the cushion dips just slightly under my weight.
“I’m proud of you,” she says, and it lands clean. No hesitation. No qualifiers. “You’ve taken this on in a way a lot of people don’t.”
I stare out the window at the blue sky. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” She leans back slightly, studying me. “You followed through on your homework. You didn’t avoid the hard parts.” A small smile. “You really did go all in.”
I glance down at my hands, flex my fingers once. “That’s kind of my thing.”
“It is,” she agrees gently. “And when it’s working for you, it’s a strength.”
I nod, because I know that now. Or I’m starting to.
I shift slightly in the chair. “I’m still seeing that person I told you about.”
Her expression warms, interest sparking but not crowding the space. “Okay.”
I rub a hand over the back of my neck. “I think I—” I stop, reset. “I think I could see something real there.”
“With her.”
“Yeah.”
Dr. Hale nods once. “That’s good, Ty.”
I let out a breath, something tight in my chest easing just a fraction.
“Have you talked to her about where you are?” she asks. “With everything we’ve been working on?”
“I have,” I say. “I told her about therapy. That I’m figuring things out.”
“And how did that go?”
“She didn’t flinch,” I say finally. “Didn’t make it a big deal at all.”
“That sounds like a positive response.”
“Yeah.” It should feel simple, but it doesn’t.
