Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
Blakely
“Blakely? Blakely?” I don’t know how many times Dr. Mann said my name before I stopped zoning out, but it was enough that by the time I did look up at him, irritation tightened his lips. It was gone in the next second.
“Sorry,” I muttered. “So sorry. I, uhh?—”
“—seem distracted,” he continued for me, folding his hands over his lap and leaning forward. “Why is that?”
I readjusted the pillow on my lap and recrossed my legs. Dr. Mann was just doing his job, but today it felt invasive. All his leading questions and musings were too much.
But I swallowed my frustration and said, “Work is really taking off. I have a lot of new clients, which is great but also a little overwhelming.”
Dr. Mann was silent for several long seconds, and I eventually glanced back up at him. He’d leaned back in his chair, and his expression was even more assessing than usual. I had to suppress my groan and not toss the pillow on the ground and stomp out.
Just like earlier in the week, I wasn’t telling the whole truth. Yes, work was picking up, and I was still a one-woman show. But it was Devon and our movie night together that were heavy on my mind.
I had made myself completely crazy. Not an hour went by that I didn’t think about him—his deep laugh, kind eyes, and strong hands. How sweet he was to Tato and how quickly Tato warmed up to him. And how much I liked him being in my space.
“I think there’s something you’re not sharing,” he said, and then clarified, “And you don’t have to, but if it’s bothering you that much, this is the time to talk about it.”
“I just…I…” I blew out a breath and mustered the courage to talk about something else that had been happening. “The nightmares have started again.”
Dr. Mann nodded. “The same as before?”
I inclined my head and felt anxiety stirring in my gut and creeping up my throat. “Yes,” I murmured quietly.
“So, you don’t remember them when you wake up?”
I shook my head and heaved out a shaky breath. “Right. I know that I’m dreaming, but by the time I wake up, every memory of it is gone. I only know it happened because my heart is racing, and I can’t catch my breath.”
He propped an elbow on the arm of his chair and rested his chin on his hand. “With everything that’s happened recently—reuniting with your friends and reliving those memories—it’s no wonder those nightmares have come back.”
“So, do you think they’re temporary?” There was no missing the hope in my voice, but Dr. Mann’s lack of response and tilt of his head didn’t do much to help.
“It’s hard to say, Blakely. They were temporary before, so it’s very possible they will go away once again. Especially as you continue to settle into your new life.”
Nodding, I didn’t want to bet on the fact that they might go away. Every night I went to sleep, I prayed I wouldn’t wake up in a blind panic, but it happened anyway. I liked to focus on the things I knew for sure.
“Other than the dreams, things are good, though,” I said, trying to change the subject. “Things are really good.”
After knocking on their front door several times previously and being greeted by an annoyed Shelly who didn’t want to walk through the house to answer it, I just walked into their house. Although I did so slowly and announced myself loudly. It was a little warm for almost March, and in the sun, it felt closer to eighty than it did seventy, so the air conditioning felt nice on my warm skin.
“In here!” Shelly called from the kitchen. I closed the door behind me and began to walk further into the house, only to stop immediately as I heard Stormy skittering down the hallway to my left. She weaved between my legs, allowed me to scratch her head a few times and then wandered off again.
That was about all the attention she would accept until Devon appeared.
I walked through the living room and found Shelly standing in the kitchen, scooping cookie dough onto a baking sheet.
“You look pretty,” Shelly said by way of greeting. I glanced down at my short-sleeved black T-shirt and green satin skirt. I’d pulled half of my hair back and worn a little bit more makeup, but it wasn’t anything too out of the ordinary.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile and dropped the bag of ingredients on the counter.
“How was your day?” Shelly asked as I washed and dried my hands. I peered over her shoulder and looked at the large chocolate chip cookies. I couldn’t name a person in the world that didn’t love Shelly’s chocolate chip cookies, but I also knew they were Devon’s favorite.
“It was good,” I said. “Did Devon request the cookies?”
“Not necessarily,” she said cryptically, looking at me out of the corner of her eye as I walked back around the counter and stopped on the other side. “You know, just with the things he’s been dealing with recently, I thought he would appreciate it.”
I thought my wide eyes were questioning enough, but she rolled her lips and went back to her cookie-making like she wasn’t going to say anymore, but my curiosity was too strong.
“What do you mean, Shelly? What things ?” I asked. The longer she stayed silent, the more my anxiety climbed. Our movie night had only happened two days earlier—what could have possibly occurred in that little time?
She shook her head and dropped the empty bowl in the sink. She began cleaning it immediately, and when she pulled the towel out to dry it, still without giving me any more information, I broke. “Shelly, seriously, tell me what?—”
“They broke up,” she said with a shrug. “Devon and Piper broke up.”
“Wait, what?” She nodded and slid the packed tray of cookies into the preheated oven. “When did this happen? Yesterday?”
“Oh, no. No, they broke up on Valentine’s Day, actually.”
I reared back and immediately my mind was firing on all cylinders. It had been almost two weeks since Valentine’s Day, and I hadn’t known. Maybe I should have asked or questioned why he hadn’t brought her up.
“Two weeks ago?” She nodded. “And it’s been tough on him?”
“No, no, no. I wouldn’t say that,” she said quickly, flitting around the kitchen. Everything already looked clean to me, yet she pulled out the cleaner and sprayed the countertops once again.
“But enough to require chocolate chip cookies?” That question made her stop. She tugged a few paper towels free from the roll and swiped them across the counter.
She sighed and finally said, “Not necessarily.” I knew exactly what she was doing. By bringing up the breakup, she knew I wouldn’t be able to resist asking Devon about it. She wanted me to talk to him about it. She wasn’t as sneaky as she thought she was.
And I was going to play right into her hand. “Is he here?” I asked, glancing down at my hands folded on top of the counter. I’d gone for a dark green nail polish this time. And it had nothing to do with the fact that it was Devon’s favorite color. Nothing.
But I suddenly wanted to pick it all off. It felt too forward and pathetic. Although no one would likely notice or come to the conclusion that it was for him, except me. Because it wasn’t.
“Yes.” Shelly pointed out the back window, and that was when I heard the saw from the garage. “He’s in his shop.”
Without looking up at her, I strode to the back door and wrenched it open. I knew if I stopped, I would lose my nerve. I didn’t know what my plan was, but I knew if I thought too long about my actions, I wouldn’t go out there.