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“Well, from the looks of what I saw earlier, I’d say the feeling is mutual.” I nod my agreement, but even I know it’s half-hearted. “What’s wrong?”
I take a deep breath and tell her, “I’m so fucking scared, Cam. What if—”
“No. Don’t do that, Jamie. Seb is not Josh, and I’m certainly not that bitch Amber.” She sighs, then takes my hand. “When I first met Ryder, he scared me but not in the way you’d think. I was never afraid he’d hurt me physically. I knew from the start that’s not who he was. What does your heart tell you about Seb?”
I think about what she’s told me, and a part of me knows, although I don’t know how, that Seb would never hurt me that way, but it’s really fucking hard to trust your own judgement again.
“My heart thinks I’d be a fool to waste this chance, and I agree, but that doesn’t stop my brain from screaming what a terrible idea this is.”
“Then listen to your heart because you know better than I do that sometimes our brains are our own worst enemies.”
And she’s right, I do know that. I know how much of a role our brains play in protecting us when we experience something bad. Building a wall around the bad memory and blocking it completely or replaying it over and over again and manifesting as PTSD, but that wasn’t the case for me. Instead, I built a wall around my heart, and the memory my brain chose to remember, kept me from ever allowing someone in again.
Until now.
