Chapter 12 #2
Daisy shrugs, a serene smile on her face. “He’s too moody for me, a complete and utter grump. It would never work.”
Now I’m smiling. “Believe me, grumpy and sunshine always work.”
Daisy laughs but changes the subject. “Yes, well, you did great for your first session. Do you want to come back?”
I smile at her, thankful for her giving me the choice. “I think I’d like to come back.”
Her smile is wide. “Great. I love introducing this to people who are new to it. It was honestly one of the best things I ever did for myself.”
I stand up and pace, my heart thumping wildly in my chest, because on one hand, talking to Daisy has been the best thing for me, but on the other, I don’t want to be a burden.
I bite my nails before finally blurting out.
“I feel trapped because I have no one I can talk to. I can’t tell Emmy how I truly feel because it was my fiancé who kidnapped her.
How did I not know? How did I not see the signs?
And I can’t talk to Lacey because she’s pregnant and dealing with the whole she’s in love with Cole thing.
I don’t have the relationship I’d like with my younger sister, so I can’t tell her, and my mother practically hates everything about me, unless I’m doing what she wants.
Then there’s Nate. He’s wonderful and a real friend, but how do I tell him that I’m so fucked inside I can’t stand messing him up too? ”
Daisy sits cross-legged on the floor, watching me pace, utterly calm. “Hayleigh, I can’t answer any of that for you, and even if I could, it wouldn’t make a difference. Do you want to know why?”
I nod. “Yes.”
“You have to heal first. A lot of what you’re holding in is internalised. It isn’t what anyone else is thinking or feeling; we’re all here for you, but once you’re ready. You have to find what’s really hurting you inside, and until you do, you’re never going to move past this.”
I stop pacing. “Shit, Daisy. I thought you were going to tell me everything’s going to be okay?”
She holds out her hand, and I help her stand.
“Sorry, Hayleigh, I may be sunshine and rainbows, but I definitely don’t blow smoke up people's backsides. You’re hurting, and that’s okay, but you’re not helping yourself.
Take some time out, evaluate what you want and what’s getting to you.
If it’s multiple things, then cross them all off your list as you go. ”
“A list.” The realisation hits me like a freight train. I need to add everything to that list and tick it all off, then maybe I’ll be okay.
I know exactly the first thing I need to do.
While I wait for Nate outside of the yoga studio, I run my plan through my mind, promising Daisy that I’d come back next week. I’m nervous about what I’m going to do next, but it’s something that I’ll feel better with after I’ve done it.
Nate’s car comes around the corner, and my stomach erupts into flutters. I take a deep breath to calm down. When he pulls up, I hop in, and before my nerves get the better of me, I say. “Can you take me to my old house?”
He doesn’t question, he nods. “Sure. How was yoga? Sweaty?”
I giggle as he waggles his eyebrows, and I shake my head. “Don’t be a pig, Nate Peterson, or I’ll tell your mum.”
He places one hand over his heart and feigns shock. “I would never be a pig.”
I smile and settle in for the drive to my old house. Watching the scenery pass me by in a blur. Familiar streets flicker past, and as they do, my stomach starts to churn, then in no time at all, we arrive.
I look up at the darkened house, that’s what it is, a house and not a home. I don’t think it ever was a home.
Nate kills the engine and sits back. “Do you want me to wait here?”
I meet Nate’s gentle gaze. “Can you come with me, please?” He nods, and we both get out of the car.
The house looms; it’s dark, dismal, and devoid of all life.
The darkness seeps into every corner as my heart rate spikes and my palms feel clammy.
I slow my steps. I’ve been here before, since everything happened, but now, because this will be the last time, it feels like the door to my past is closing while the door to my future is opening.
This was supposed to be my forever home, the place where I’d welcome Pete home after a long day at work and where we would raise our children, and I can’t help but be thankful we never made it that far.
What would I do if I were tied to him for the rest of my life?
But now it’s just bricks and mortar and nothing special.
“You okay?” Nate’s words are whispered, but I jump out of my skin as if he had shouted them.
I slow my breathing. “Yeah. I’m okay, just thinking.”
My hand shakes as I pull the key from my bag. I keep missing the keyhole until Nate’s hand covers mine, and he guides the key into the lock. I turn the key, and the click is louder than I remember, the sound slamming into me.
The first thing I do is look down. No letters, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
The air is stale and musky, and a light coating of dust covers the banister and the table in the hallway.
The lights flicker to life as Nate presses the switch.
I don’t take my coat off, instead walking purposefully to the kitchen before I lose my nerve.
The envelope is right where I left it, so I snatch it up.
Nate follows, and I turn to him, holding out the envelope. “I want this added to my list. I want the courage to open it and read it, and then I want to burn it.”
He turns it over in his hands, reads my name and address, and in the corner of the envelope, reads the name of the psychiatric hospital where Pete resides. He meets my eye. “Is this from Pete?”
I nod. “Yeah. I don’t know too many psychopaths.” I shrug and force a laugh that sounds too shrill even to my ears.
“You haven’t read it yet.” It’s not a question. “Do you want me to hold onto it for you?”
“Please.”
He folds the envelope in half and puts it in his back pocket before striding to me and wrapping me up in a hug. He whispers in my ear, “I get it.”
I hope he does, and I hope I’m doing the right thing by letting Nate in.