Chapter 31
Jolee
I feel like I can breathe easier, and my shoulders are one layer of stress less. My therapy appointment was the step I needed. That’s where I should have been years ago, but I didn’t know any better.
My family wasn’t there for me when I needed them, and Andy’s family couldn’t chase me away fast enough. I had been so lost and scared. But I’m here now, learning to let go, learning to move forward, and gaining more control over my life.
Thank God she had a cancellation; it would’ve been weeks before I could get in. Weeks, I don’t think I would’ve survived without drowning. I probably scared her with the amount of emotional baggage I unloaded in fifty minutes, but she didn’t flinch.
She is the support I need to figure out my life. I have regular sessions set up for the next few months. It’s a strong start, given everything that's happened. She gave me a few things to work on until next time.
Small steps.
Anchors.
And ways to breathe when my thoughts start eating me alive. The first thing she told me to do was turn my phone back on.
“You can’t hide forever,” she said gently. “You don’t have to have answers, but you can’t disappear. You need to stop running, and you might just be surprised by what comes with staying.”
She reminded me of how strong I am. Most of the time, I feel weak and like I’ve messed everything up. In reality, I survived and did the best I could with what I had, what I knew, and what I believed to be the truth.
I told her about Clay and Grant. About how they were the ones who cracked me open without trying. How being with them made me feel safe in a way I wasn’t prepared for.
She nodded. “That sounds like a good connection. And that’s not something to punish yourself for.”
Now I’m sitting in my car, staring at this black brick. I take an extra minute, taking another breath. I can do this. No more threats. No more stalkers. Just me and this life.
With surprisingly steady hands, I turn my phone back on. It immediately lights up and vibrates. Over and over.
Missed calls. Voicemails. Texts.
All from Clay. His voice is frantic. Worried. Asking why I didn’t answer my door. Asking where the hell I am.
Deep down, I wanted it to be him. I didn’t want him to worry, not about me.
My throat tightens. How do I answer him? I’m just coming out of this spiral and my fears. But I can’t have him thinking the worst either.
Then a new text pops up, and it pauses all my thoughts.
Hi Jo. Please put my husband out of his misery. Text us back so we know you’re okay. We miss you.
I stare at it for a long time.
This is real.
Clay isn’t dead. He’s okay.
And Grant… he misses me, too?
That part lands differently. He loves his husband so deeply that it feels impossible for me to matter alongside that.
My eyes burn. I don’t remember the last time someone worried about me like this. Wanted me like this. And maybe they both do? One of my assignments is to build my support system, and I’ve never felt more supported than I do with them.
I want to see them.
I’m terrified to see them.
I still feel broken, and I don’t know how long it will last. I don’t know how long this journey will be for me. What do I even say?
I miss you?
I don’t have nightmares when I’m with you?
You both make me feel safe?
Instead, I type.
Hi.
I stare at it. That’s it? That’s all I have? It’s a start.
A second later, my phone vibrates. Startled, I almost drop my phone.
Hi, Jo. It’s Grant.
Are you home?
Home. The word feels loaded. Nothing feels like home. Not yet, but I’m more worried about how Clay is doing. The explosion and his store. So much destruction. I hold back my tears and type back.
How’s Clay?
Is he okay?
He would be better if you were here. He’s losing his mind not knowing if you’re okay.
My chest tightens. I don’t want to be the cause of his worry or in the way of him getting better. The next message comes through.
Are you okay?
My heart swells. They both care… about me. I wrap myself in it. It’s been too long since I’ve had these emotions. Welcomed ones.
I thought he was dead.
Me too.
I thought both of you were dead.
I’m sorry I didn’t call.
I didn’t get hurt. Not like Clay, he was the closest to the explosion. But that’s all over now, and in the past.
I stare at the screen. Unsure what to say. I can’t imagine Grant thinking Clay was dead, and he was with him. The waiting and unanswered questions. I should’ve been there. You were in no condition. I remind myself.
I’m working on being okay.
It’s going to take some time.
Let us help you. I think we all need each other. A lot has happened.
Grant is right. So much has happened, but what’s next?
Can we come see you?
Texting doesn’t feel the same.
I hesitate, then answer honestly.
I’d rather come see you. My apartment is… not where I want to be right now.
Okay. Just know he’s pretty banged up, but he’s okay. He needs to rest.
He needs you, Jo.
Relief washes through me, warm and shaky.
Oh, okay. I’m on my way.
Okay. Drive safe.
I put the phone down and sit there for a moment longer. My heart is pounding, but not with fear this time, but something fragile and unfamiliar.
Hope.
I don’t know what I’m walking into.
I don’t know what comes next.
But for the first time in my life, I’m not running. I’m making a choice for myself. I’m choosing to live. I’m choosing a new path forward.