Page 44 of You, Only You

"She said I've been doing the same thing since I was twenty-two. Since Mom died. That I turn fear into control because control is the only thing that makes me feel less helpless. That I did it to her, and she had to move three thousand miles away to breathe. And that I'm doing it to you."

Lindsey was quiet for a moment. "She sounds smart."

"She's annoyingly perceptive. Family trait."

"And what did you say?"

"That I don't know how to stop." I kept my eyes on the skyline. It was easier to say this to the city than to her face. "That the controlling is how I function. That without it I'm just... afraid. All the time. And I don't know what to do with that."

"What did she say to that?"

"That I have to sit with it. Feel it. Not turn it into action." I exhaled slowly. "So I've been sitting in your living room in the dark for two hours, feeling afraid. I can confirm it's terrible."

A sound came from her. Small. Somewhere between a breath and a laugh. Not amusement, exactly. More like recognition.

"Did it get smaller?"

"No. Nicole lied about that part."

"She didn't lie. It takes longer than two hours."

"How long?"

"I'll let you know when I figure it out." She turned back to the skyline. "I've been sitting with my own stuff in there. The trust thing. Whether I'm capable of it. Whether wanting to trust you is the same as actually trusting you, or whether wanting is just... hope with anxiety attached."

"What did you decide?"

"That I don't know yet. That I can't know yet. That the only way to find out is to keep going and see what happens, which is a terrible strategy and the only one I've got."

The space between us was still there. A foot of cool night air. I wanted to close it. I wanted to reach for her hand the way she'd reached for mine in the car, that slow, tentative contact that had felt like a door opening.

But Nicole's voice was in my head: sometimes the bravest thing is letting them be strong without you. So I didn't reach. I stood there and let the space be what it was, and waited.

Minutes passed. The city hummed. A siren wailed somewhere distant and faded.

"Will."

"Yeah?"

"I checked. After you deleted the app. I went into the phone and verified it was actually gone."

"I know. I expected you to."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"It bothers me that I made it necessary. It doesn't bother me that you did it."

She was quiet again. Processing. I could almost hear the calculations running, the way I could in the storage unit when she was close to cracking a pattern.

"Come here," she said.

Two words. The same two words she'd said in the hospital. Come here. Simple. Direct. Leaving the choice to me.

I closed the distance. Not all of it. Enough that my sleeve brushed against her sweater. Enough that I could feel the warmth of her through the layers.

She reached over and took my hand.

Not the tentative, testing contact from the car. This was deliberate. She laced her fingers through mine and held on,firm and certain. Like she'd weighed the evidence and reached a conclusion.