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“Thank God,” she dramatically says, causing me to laugh again.
The ache in my chest fades for now, and I finally know the answer to my question from last night.
She’s definitely worth it.
“Hey, Brittany. How are things going?” Dr. Gunner asks.
“Not great.”
“All right. Well, let’s hear it.” I imagine him leaning back in his office chair as if he’s relaxing.
“Is it possible that it’s helping my anxiety, but not the depression? Because my anxiety isn’t as bad as usual, but the rest? I’m going crazy here, Dr. Gunner.”
“I can increase your current meds, or I can prescribe something new. You’re responding fairly well to these meds, right?”
“Yeah, I haven’t had any crazy side effects,” I answer.
“Then, let’s increase your dosage and see how that works, okay?”
“Okay, thanks.”
I talk to him for a few more minutes, and then we hang up. I hate the waiting game that comes with this mess. I have to wait to see if the meds will work. I have to wait to see if I’ll get better or worse. Wait to see what’s going to happen with my life. I hate waiting.
With the phone call over and my classes done for the day, I start packing my bags.
“What are you doing?” Rebecca asks as she walks into the room.
“I’m going to stay with Trace this week.” I go on to tell her that someone reported him and he was written up for being here. She has a funny look on her face, so I finally stop and ask, “What is it?”
“This is my fault.”
“What? How?” It makes no sense for it to be Rebecca’s fault.
“Well,” she drags. “Shortly after you left, Dustin came over and blew up at me because he thought I was cheating on him. He saw Trace following me in and was royally pissed off; he kept saying how Trace was going to get what he deserved. Maybe Dustin is the one who reported him.”
“Maybe. But how would he know Trace was an employee? And it still doesn’t make it your fault, Bec,” I reassure her.
“He told me that he’s been to the counselors’ office once before with his roommate. He may have seen Trace then.”
I shrug. “It doesn’t matter now. I’m going to stay there and keep an eye on him. If you miss me too much, then text me and we’ll have lunch or something,” I say as I grab my things.
“Will do. Have fun.”
I don’t think fun is what I’ll be having. All I’m hoping for is relaxation and peace. That’s way more important. Trace and I arrive at his house around the same time. He doesn’t try to smile when he sees me. He doesn’t even say hey. The most I get from him is a glance of acknowledgement and hand-holding as he takes my hand to lead me to the door once I walk up to him. That’s better than just a glance, though.
“Damn it,” he mutters as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I meant to pick up something for dinner.”
“I’ll run to get us something. Think about what you want and I’ll go get it.” Problem solved. Trace nods and I walk past him to drop my things off in his room while he lets Lily outside. When I return, he tells me what he wants and I leave to go get it. I debate whether or not I should tell him that I may know who told on him. He doesn’t seem too
concerned over that aspect, so maybe it’s better to let it rest.
Trace is sitting in his recliner once I return. I hand him his burger and fries, set the bag on the end table by the couch, and then grab us some drinks. We eat in silence. Even Lily ambles into the kitchen to eat at the same time as us. The urge to speak, say something to end the utter silence, is overwhelming. It’s all I can think about.
“Brittany,” Trace says with a snap of his fingers.
