“I’m fine.”
“Then open the door and prove it.”
She recognized that tone. He wasn’t going anywhere until he got what he wanted, or until she picked a fight and drove him off. She didn’t have the energy for either. Bree opened the door.
He took one look at her and stopped mid-shout. “Couch. Now,” he ordered.
Since she was heading there anyway before his rude interruption, Bree didn’t protest. She’d barely sat down when he wrapped a blanket around her and swung her feet onto the coffee table. Then he handed her the tall cup from The Frozen Cow and settled in beside her. ”What’s this?” she asked.
“It’s a chocolate banana milkshake.”
Bree smiled for the first time that day. “It’s perfect.”
Eric grabbed the remote control and flipped through channels until they found a baseball game. They watched until the game hit an inning break. “Rough day?” he asked.
Bree lost it. Her face crumpled, like her muscles were under someone else’s control. And her emotions. She bolted off the sofa, into the bathroom, and locked the door. She crammed her face into a towel to muffle the sobs. She couldn’t stop, no matter how hard she tried. She tried to regulate her breathing, hoping the lack of oxygen would force her body to shut down, but she couldn’t hold it long enough to make it work. And she didn’t think she had the strength to ride her current emotional storm out.
“Bree?” Eric sounded frantic. And helpless. It made her cry harder.
The sobs subsided as quickly as they’d started. She had no idea why. A few minutes later, Bree opened the door, her face freshly washed, and slipped past Eric to retake her place on the sofa. She burrowed under his arm and clung to his shirt as they watched the next two innings in silence.
“Should I ask again?”
She shook her head.
“Do you want me to go home?” Eric asked.
Another shake. Anything more was still beyond her capability.
“Do you want me to stay?”
A nod. Progress. Somewhat.
“Okay. Go get ready for bed. I’ll sleep out here.”
Another shake. But she found the words this time. “Come to bed with me.”
