“Actually. I have to go.”
I tugged at the collar of my shirt. Maybe this really was too small. What was I thinking, wearing doll-sized clothes? “Shit, yeah, I just remembered Ruth needs me to help with her light.” I was halfway down the alley.
“We fixed that months ago,” he countered.
“New one,” I called, just about to round the corner. “Okay, we’ll talk later. Are you going to the bonfire Friday?”
Levi smiled. “Claire and I will be there.”
“See ya then.” As soon as I was around the corner, the smile dropped from my face.
That was so unnecessary. Why was he trying to apologize? And what for? He didn’t need to, and I was fine. Nope, better to keep on moving forward.
I just needed something to keep me busy like he said. That was it. Maybe I should help with the fundraiser this year after all. Or I will swing by and see if Ruth actually does need help. There was always something to do in Cozy Creek. No. I wanted it to be more personal than that. More one-on-one.
I was like a shark. I just needed to stay in motion or I died. And by died, I mean had to think. And fuck thinking.
I was a helper. It was who I was.
If I wasn’t the cheerful best friend and local hero firefighter, then who was I?
2
Sophie
“It’s not working out.I’m sorry, Sophie.” The cool, professional tone did nothing to stop the harsh truth from slicing through me painfully.
I must have misheard. This couldnotbe happening.
“You’re breaking up with me?” I asked, half-joking, but only because the hurt of my shock was too much.
There was a soft laugh of sympathy. “This isn’t a breakup.”
“I don’t understand. What did I do wrong?” I asked.
“You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I must have done something if you are leaving me.” I leaned closer to the laptop screen, as if that might help clarify the big fat dumping I just received.
My therapist tilted her head back at me. A decade older, with short-cropped graying curls and thick-framed neon-pink glasses, Dr. Spinner was blurring as I fought back miserable tears.
“Sophie. It looks like you’re struggling. Please focus on your breathing, like we’ve practiced. This isn’t the end for us, but I do think we have gone as far as we will go together.”
“We’ve been seeing each other for five years,” I said, voice going high with indignation. I would not cry over this. I could not let myself be any more pathetic than I already was.
I turned the volume down on the call just in case Grandma El walked by. In the heavy, loaded silence of the world’s most uncomfortable breakup call, I listened for the squeak of my grandmother’s steps on the stairs or outside my bedroom door. She didn’t eavesdrop on these therapy calls per se, but she didn’t stop herself from listening either.
“Exactly. Five years and our journey together has been fruitful,” Dr. Spinner said. “You’ve come a long way, and you should be very proud. But unless something changes, I think you’re ready to scale back our calls to once every few weeks, maybe once a month.”
Shame burned through me. I couldn’t meet her gaze as she spoke. “I’m so pathetic my therapist is breaking up with me,” I mumbled, my head in my hands and my elbows on my desk.
“What did we say about that sort of self-talk? I’m happy to see you any time. I’ve suggested an in-person session even ...” she trailed off, knowing that I was also the one to blame in that situation.
Heat burned down my spine and made my heart thump faster in my chest. Her office was an interstate drive away in a city four times the size of Cozy Creek. I couldn’t even think about navigating that traffic. Plus, I’d have to drive Grandma’s hybrid SUV because I couldn’t ask her to drive me that far.
Even if Icoulddrive, I wouldn’t know how I’d get down there or where to park. I wouldn’t know the receptionist. Did she even have one? And where would I sit? What would Dr. Spinner think of me if she saw me in person? Would she think I was differentthan she expected? Taller? Shorter? Too twitchy? There were too many reasons not to see her in person and no good reasons to go, really.
She knew this.
