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Rebecca groans and sits up on her bed. “I take my apology back. How is there such a thing as too much sex? You are worrying too much, Brittany.”
“Will you just answer my question?” I’m starting to get annoyed and regret asking her.
“A few times a week. If we have the whole night, then more than once that night usually. How often are y’all having sex?”
“That’s how often it was for us, but now, it’s like multiple times a day every time I see him. He’ll stop us mid-conversation to have sex. It’s great sex, but I don’t know. I’m wondering if maybe Trace is using sex to both pretend to be normal and as an escape. I still feel like he’s not being as honest and open with me as I am with him. That can’t be good for us.”
“Give him more time,” she says. “He obviously cares for you because he’s put his job on the line, taken you on a trip, is a damn good boyfriend, and he decided to go to Las Vegas with us. Cut him some slack, enjoy the sex, and give him time to open up.”
I nod. Maybe I am too hard on him. I might be expecting too much too soon. After all, Trace hid his depression from his father and his ex-wife. Habits are hard to break. He needs more time to work on it himself. I highly doubt me saying something will help. It’ll probably just make it worse. I’ll stay quiet and trust in Trace.
I smile to myself. That should be my new motto. Trust in Trace. I want to text him, but I need to focus on my homework. It’s been hard, but I’ve been slowly learning how to stop obsessing over it. My grades have been better, too. We have midterms next week, and I feel pretty prepared. Students from all of my classes have formed study groups, so that’s on the calendar.
Tomorrow, I meet with a new therapist. Dr. Gunner suggested I start seeing someone off campus, and Mrs. Rumley was able to recommend someone in the area. I called to make the appointment soon after Dr. Gunner made his suggestion, but tomorrow was their first available appointment. I’m nervous. Trace had me call his old office to have my records transferred, so they should know my background by the time I arrive.
My phone vibrates with a text.
Trace: Come over? I have Lily, fried pickles, pizza, and a fridge full of Sun Drop.
Me: What about my boyfriend?
Trace: He’s here too, but he had a bad day.
Shame on me. I’m a little excited because he’s told me he had a bad day. Usually, I know only because I find him in the recliner. Lily loves the recliner, so her big body is usually lying across his lap. He hasn’t been in it but a time or two this week. I think having Lily has helped. He’s always talking to her, petting her, and letting her sprawl all over him.
Me: Be over shortly.
I stop where I am on my homework and start packing a change of clothes. Rebecca eyes me, knowing where I’m going without me having to say it.
“Are you still going to move in with me once we graduate?”
Whirling around to look at her, I say, “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“You’re at his house a lot.” She shrugs.
“Yeah, but I don’t want to live with him yet. I want to live with you some more.” I smile. “Don’t worry, Bec. I’m all yours for a while longer.”
“Whatever,” she laughs.
“Want to grab lunch after my appointment tomorrow?” I ask as I finish stuffing my things in my bag.
“Absolutely! Just text me when you leave and we’ll meet up somewhere.”
“Will do. See ya later.” I wiggle my fingers in a wave before walking out of the dorm. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out. “Hey, Mom,” I answer, getting into my car.
“Hey. How’s it going? I’m not interrupting you or anything, am I?”
“No, I’m just leaving campus and things are good. My grades are better, and my anxiety hasn’t been as bad lately, so I think the meds are working.”
“That’s great to hear! Are you nervous about tomorrow?” she asks, and I pull onto the road.
“Yeah, but I think it’ll be okay. Trace keeps telling me it’ll be fine, and I keep reminding myself that what anxiety I do have is completely normal.”
There’s a long silence, which is odd.
“Mom? Are you there?”
“Yeah, Brittany, I’m just confused.”
