“Then you two take my bed. Down the hall, first door on the left,” I insisted as Dallas stepped outside. “I’ll stay out here. I’d offer you the guest room, but the only things in there are a few boxes and an old dresser. I never got around to furnishing it because…well, because I never really wanted anyone to visit.”
“But you don’t have to give up your—” Katie started to argue, but I cut her off.
“With your MS, you need a bed. I’m taking the couch.”
She nodded her agreement as she knelt to scoop up Emilia. “All right.”
Seconds later, Dallas returned with a duffel slung over his shoulder.
He clapped me on the back. “We’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “You never answered me before. Why did McKenzie’s friend call you?”
Katie’s gaze dropped to the floor.
My stomach tied itself in knots. “What is it?”
“McKenzie had a panic attack when she realized you were gone,” Katie replied. “That’s why her friend Kia called.”
The realization of what I’d done collided with me head-on. Of course, she’d panicked. After what she’d been through with Brennan, she was probably terrified.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my hand covering my mouth.
“She’s all right,” Katie interjected before I had the chance to spiral any further. “She’s shaken up, but she’s okay. I talked to Kia again on the way here. Her mom is staying with her.”
“Thank God,” I said, immediately searching my pockets for my phone. “I should call her. I need to tell her I’m sorry.”
Dallas held out a hand to stop me. “There’ll be plenty of time for that. Right now, you need to take care of yourself.”
“And I think she may need a little time. This brought up a lot for her. Give her a day or two to process,” Katie added. “Kia said she’d touch base with me later. I’ll tell her to let McKenzie know you’re thinking about her.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, reaching out to scruff the top of Emilia's ears.
“Do you mind if she stays with me?” I asked. “The company might be nice.”
“Of course.” Katie gave me a faint smile as she passed her to me. “I think she’d like that.”
“Hey there, Princess Piss-a-lot,” I said as she settled into my arms.
“Good night.” Katie’s eyes lingered on me a moment before she and Dallas started toward my room.
“Night,” I called after them.
I moved to the sofa, then set Emilia on the cushion before shrugging off my jacket and tossing it aside. When I laid back, the little dog wagged her tail before climbing onto my chest to give me a gentle lick on the nose.
“Thanks, girl,” I said, stroking her ear as she curled herself into a ball on my stomach.
There was something comforting about her presence. She was no stranger to rejection, either. She’d been abandoned by the person who was supposed to love her the most. It was a feeling I understood on a cellular level. I hadn’t been in a place to give the dog the home she needed, but I knew Dallas and Katie could. And though I tried to pretend I didn’t, I cared about her. I just knew I couldn’t be everything she needed—everything shedeserved.
I looked at Emilia where she lay on me: safe, happy, and most of all, loved. Dallas and Katie were her people, but she also had a family that extended beyond them in me, McKenzie, and all of our friends. Maybe it wouldn’t make up for the neglect she’d suffered, but despite the odds, she was thriving.
And maybe one day, I could too.
“I’m glad you’re here.”Lacey settled into her armchair while I sat on the couch in her office late Sunday afternoon. I’d kept my phone off other than the three minutes it took me to send Lacey an email asking for her first available session and leaving Katie’s number as my contact. She was also giving me updates on McKenzie. I didn’t want to be tempted to open social media or Google until I was in a better headspace, so I avoided it altogether. Lacey called soon after I sent the message and told me to meet her at 5 p.m.
“You didn’t have to come in on your day off,” I said, staring straight ahead at one of the colorful paintings on her wall. It was a field of wildflowers, but one stood bigger and brighter than the rest. My mind immediately recalled an image of McKenzie the night we danced together at the My Chemical Romance cover band show. The night that I’d later found out was the anniversary of Brennan’s passing.
Guilt crawled over me like a spider. It felt like a small tickle at first, a harmless itch begging to be scratched, only for me to look down and find a black widow ready to strike and fill my blood with poison.
