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I sat on the brown leather couch and put my face into my hands.

I didn’t know what to do. Mike was a good person, and I cared about him, but I was not built for this. I would not be like Mom, a foster home for broken men. I didn’t want to fix someone. I didn’t want someone who needed fixing, I wanted someone who wanted to fix themselves, and not because I called them on it.

Where would I go now?

Mom was in South Dakota with Phil. Lexi helped her sister with bills, so she couldn’t move out with me. There were already six of them in a two-bedroom apartment. I couldn’t even ask to sleep on the couch while I searched for a roommate who would overlook my credit.

I could rent a room in a cheap extended-stay motel.

It’s where we lived after Dad lost the house. Bouncing around from one dump to the next, two years with no address, getting our mail at a P.O. box, paying more for that single room than we would pay for a whole apartment but having no choice because of bad credit and no savings and lack of income.

I’d gone back in time.

I’d actually managed to reverse my fortune. And what would happen to my friendships now? Becca? Samantha?

Chris…

I’d like to think things with Chris wouldn’t change after this, but realistically I knew they would. He was my boyfriend’s best friend, things would never be the same. It would be weird if we stayed friends without Mike. And what excuse would there be to hang out with me anyway? We wouldn’t have our car ride to the cabin. We wouldn’t have the BBQs and the birthday parties and the trips that everyone went on. We’d have Woofarine, but that would probably stop too. I didn’t even have a place to go, how could I have a dog? If I moved to South Dakota, which I’d probably have to do, I’d never see either of them again.

We wouldn’t share books anymore.

We would never rate the bread.

The last time he’d checked my EpiPen would be the last time.

And that’s what finally broke me. I would lose Chris. And somehow this was worse than all of it. This is what finally made me cry. I put my face in my hands and broke down.

I wanted to talk to him. I felt like he could fix this or make me feel better that it couldn’t be fixed. I screamed his name in my head. I wanted him here, in this room to tell me how to deal with Mike. I hated that I hadn’t seen him in a month and that we didn’t get our car ride up and that he had a girlfriend he didn’t tell me anything about—and that I liked her. She was actually great. And that made me cry harder and I didn’t even know why, because he deserved someone wonderful. I wanted that for him.

So then why did it hurt so much?

The door opened and my head jerked up. Chris peeked in.

“Did you call me?”

I stared at him for a second. Just blinking at him through tears.

“I thought I heard you call me,” he said. “Are you okay?”

I blew out a shaky breath and shook my head. “No.”

He came in and slid the door closed. “What’s going on?”

I wiped under my eyes. “Nothing. How did you know I was in here?”

“Trauma bond?”

He managed to get a laugh out of me.

He handed me some tissues and sat on the sofa next to me and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. He looked tired.

So was I.

I had the strongest urge to put my head on his shoulder. I wanted him to wrap an arm around me. I wanted to close my eyes and breathe him in and feel safe, the way I always did with him.

Mike didn’t make me feel safe, I realized. He didn’t make me feel unsafe, but I could never shut off my brain with him like I could with Chris. When Chris drove, I could take a nap or be on my phone. I didn’t have to keep my eyes on the road. When Chris said he was going to drive, I didn’t have to watch to see how much he had to drink. I didn’t have to put my own drink down in case I had to take over. I knew there would be a safe place to eat on the route and the car would be peaceful and quiet.

Maybe heaven was just an infinite car ride with Chris. Him behind the wheel. Us leaving everyone and everything behind. Woofarine on my lap, Minnesota in the rearview. Starting over. Going back.