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Her nursing no-shit-allowed attitude shines as she shoves me toward the kitchen and plops me into a chair. She presses on the bone, causing me to wince, but she seems satisfied.

“Not broken, eye looks reactive to light, so all good. But you’re going to have a hell of a shiner tomorrow.” Her exam done, she leans back and glares at me, so many questions in the set of her lips as they press together like she doesn’t know where to start with me.

“That was crazy, huh?” I try, starting slow.

“Yes, you were. Wanna tell me about it?” she answers.

I shake my head. “What? Not me! That dad, Kyle, and Bruce. They were fighting, like actual punches, for fuck’s sake.” The image is burned onto my retinas, and I close my eyes to consciously choose another image to see on my lids.

Michelle’s hands cover mine. “Honey, I’m a nurse. I know what a panic attack looks like. And I know they’re not always triggered by something that makes sense. But sometimes, they rear up for exactly the reasons you’d think. Talk to me, Allyson.”

I pause, swallowing. I’ve talked about it. It’s not like I haven’t dealt with shit. But today is proof that even after all these years, deep down inside, there’s still a little demon just waiting to get out of his box and fuck my life up.

I take back my control, telling him to fuck off as bits and pieces pour out of my mouth. I don’t get too deep into it with Michelle now, not when it’s feeling especially fresh, but it helps to be more transparent with her. I pace but ultimately sit back down, crossing my legs and putting my hands back on my knees to re-center myself.

She gasps and cusses and asks if she can hunt Jeremy down as I fill her in on what happened so many years ago. A tiny blip of time in the big scheme of my life but formative in a way I hate. And in a way I love . . . because that hell also made me into a mom.

It’s quiet as Michelle processes, so the knock on the door sounds especially ominous.

“Allyson!” Bruce sounds scared. My big beast of a man, and I’ve scared the shit out of him.

Chapter 29

Bruce

I mean to knock, I swear I do, but even to my ears, it sounds like a pounding. “Allyson!” I call out, wanting her to know it’s me and hoping it makes a difference.

The door cracks open, and I see Michelle’s dark eyes peek out. I don’t let her say a word, too afraid she’ll tell me to leave, so I push right in. “Where is she? Allyson?”

It’s then I see her.

Al’s sitting on the living room floor, her skin pale, but there’s a high flush to her cheeks making her look like a porcelain doll. But she’s not that fragile, and the tense set of her jaw, her ramrod-straight back, and the ice in her blue eyes tell me that she’s furious.

At me? Fuck, I hope not, but whatever I did, I’ll apologize and promise to never do it again. Unless it’s to protect her, love her . . . because that shit’s happening no matter what.

All of my urges to demand answers evaporate in the face of the possibility of losing her, and I’m ready to beg and plead with no shame.

For her, I’ll do anything.

I drop to my knees beside her, reaching out hesitantly. I’m waiting for her rage to unleash on me, for her to have danced so far back that I can’t reach her, but she sits frozen, not recoiling away from my touch, but not leaning into it, either. The distance is mere inches, but it feels like a chasm has opened its gaping mouth between us. So slowly, I get closer, my breath frozen in my chest in anticipation of her reaction. She watches blankly as I get closer, and only when my fingers touch her face does she crumble.

The stiff line of her back collapses and her soft cheek melts into my hand. Needing more and thankfully sensing she does too, I pull her into my lap, rearranging us so that she’s cradled sideways with her head against my chest. I hold her tightly, wishing I could crawl inside her to know what she’s thinking and feeling or maybe let her crawl into my heart so she can feel surrounded by my love. We rock naturally, my hand running down the length of her unrestrained hair as I soothe her and the reassure the monster inside me that she’s okay.

Michelle clears her throat and says gently, “I’m going to take the boys for the night. Holler if you need anything. And Allyson?”

Allyson raises her head from my chest to look at her friend. They have a silent conversation I’m not privy to, but I can tell there’s something deep being said between them. Michelle’s next statement confirms that. “You need to tell him.”

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