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Could I have upset her with that video I’d sent earlier? Was there something on there that would have made her get angry or sad? I didn’t think so, but just to be sure, I played it back twice and reread the text that I’d sent along with it. As far as I could see, the messages were only a sweet reminder to Luca that I’d been thinking about her.
Since nothing should have upset her, it made my mind wander to even worse scenarios. I started to get nervous that something might’ve happened to her. Of course the worst shit ran through my mind.
Someone broke in and she’s lying there unconscious.
Yet my texts were being read. I supposed the intruder could be reading them. Though that seemed ridiculous for even my vivid imagination.
She fell and hit her head.
Again, was she lying there reading her texts while gushing blood?
Unfortunately, there was only one thing that made sense.
Her last few tough days were weighing heavily on her, and she didn’t want to talk to me.
A sense of déjà vu hit me. I knew this feeling. Eight years ago I’d felt an overwhelming sense of dread when I went to the mailbox every day and found no letter from Luca. We might’ve changed our mode of communication, but my gut told me the same shit was about to go down—my girl was starting to pull away from me.The next morning, we had to leave by eight in order to get to our next stop. I was exhausted as shit, because when I finally fell asleep last night, I woke up every half hour to check my phone for a text from Luca. None ever came.
Clinging to a last-ditch hope that maybe she’d fallen asleep early yesterday and then slept in today, I waited until we stopped for our first gas fill-up, and the guys hopped off the bus to get some breakfast, to call in the big guns.
“Hello.”
“Hey. It’s Griffin. I’m sorry to bother you, Doc. But I’m worried about Luca. She’s not answering her cell—not text or calls.”
Doc sighed into the phone. “This is a difficult situation for me, son. I have doctor-patient confidentiality with Luca. Yet I care about her.”
Fuck, I was afraid he’d say that. “Can you just tell me if she’s okay? When was the last time you saw her?”
“I was with her this morning for an hour.”
I felt relieved she was okay, but my chest physically ached confirming she just didn’t want to talk to me. “She’s okay? She’s not physically harmed or anything?”
“She’s physically okay. You shouldn’t worry about that.”
I felt so damn helpless this far away. “I know you can’t talk about her issues. But I don’t know what to do. I’m on the road, and I can’t get there right now. Can you tell me how I should handle someone who has some extreme fears? What would you tell a husband or a wife who came to you for advice on how to manage someone with extreme anxiety who’s distancing themselves?”
“I’d tell them that it’s not possible to manage someone with extreme anxiety. You can support them and love them, but you’re going to need lots of patience if you’re in this for the long haul. When someone cuts open a leg, the doctor stitches it up—but it still takes a long time for it to fully heal. Even after months pass, there’s a scar. And long after that scar fades, if you hit that skin where the wound was, it will break open easier than other areas. Anxiety is no different.”
I exhaled. “Yeah. Okay.”
“Have patience, Griffin. I know that’s easier said than done, but I don’t think I’m breaking doctor-patient confidentiality when I say that Luca loves you. They say that time heals all wounds, but I think when the wound stems from a broken heart, love is equally as important.”
I nodded and swallowed. “Thanks, Doc.”
After hanging up, I sat around thinking for a while. Luca was physically okay and had Doc. I knew she was struggling and wished there was something I could do to make her better. But if time was what she needed, then I had no choice but to give her a little space and let her know I wasn’t going anywhere.
She’d been reading all my texts, so I composed one more.
Griffin: Hey, beautiful. I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you today. I’m going to give you a little breathing space, rather than call and text a million times and add stress to everything you’re going through. I’m here if you need me, and I have faith in what we have. Take care of yourself, baby.
I tossed the phone on my cubby bed and lay back with one arm covering my eyes. I was shocked to hear my phone ding a minute later.
