Chapter 42
Trust fall
Finn
Gravel crunched under my boots as I replayed the last ten minutes with Alex. Things were fine until my dad had shown up, talking about the injection I’d missed—the injection I hadn’t told Alex about, or asked her to help me with.
I’d watched her shove her hurt down—doing her best to hide her emotional response for what she thought was my sake.
I’d almost preferred she’d scream at me than not respond at all.
But for now, I needed to figure out how to tell Dr. Martinez what happened without making it sound like the end of the world.
Though maybe it was—hard to tell the difference between crisis and just another weekday when your brain keeps misfiring.
Inside our room, I sat at the desk by the window and pulled out my phone for my appointment at 1400 hours. Military trauma protocols were clear about reporting episodes, and what happened yesterday crossed every threshold she’d established for immediate intervention.
The afternoon light caught the mountains through the glass. The same view I’d been looking at for weeks now. Beautiful, peaceful, completely at odds with the chaos in my head.
I rubbed my forehead where pressure was starting to build—too much stress, not enough sleep. And the barometric pressure from yesterday’s storm still affecting my skull like it was a broken weather station. I needed rest.
But the call couldn’t wait. Dr. Martinez would want details while they were fresh—before I started editing the story to make myself look less unstable.
The video app connected on the second ring.
“Good afternoon, Finn,” Elena appeared on screen. “Admin marked your appointment as ‘high priority’. What’s going on?”
“There was an incident yesterday. I need to report it.”
Her posture shifted—still relaxed, but focused—ready for my confessional at the altar of military protocol.
“Tell me what happened.”
“We had a large storm with flash flooding. Ranch-wide emergency. Alex was helping with the creek behind the house.” I paused, organizing the sequence like a military briefing.
“I’d been working in the rain for several hours prior.
Physical labor, equipment moving. By the time I got back to help with the creek situation, I was already compromised. ”
“Compromised how?”
“Mental and physical exhaustion. Sensory overload from the rain and rushing water. My left shoulder seized up. Pain was significant, but I kept pushing,” my words came out flat, clinical. Easier to report than to feel. “Alex was working close to the creek. She slipped in the mud.”
Elena waited.
“I lost it.” This admission came harder than the rest. “Complete breakdown. Panic response about her being near the water. Couldn’t process that she was fine, that she knew what she was doing. Started seeing my own accident instead of what was actually happening.”
“What did you do?”
“Ordered her away from the water,” my jaw clenched around the memory. “When she didn’t immediately comply, I escalated. Swore at her using my command voice. In front of my entire family.”
Elena made a note on something outside the camera frame. “How did she respond?”
“Told me ‘no’. Shut me out completely. Kept working like I didn’t exist.” The memory of Alex’s ice-cold stare made my chest tight. “Smart response. De-escalation through disengagement.”
“What happened next?”
“My sister’s husband, Luke, intervened. Got me away from the situation before I could make it worse.” I stared out the window at families moving around the property as if yesterday hadn’t even happened.
Elena was quiet for a moment. “How are you feeling now? Physically and emotionally.”
“Physically? Like I got caught in a stampede. Slight headache, body’s still sore,” I shifted in the chair, my left hip protesting. “Emotionally... I screwed up, Elena. Used military authority on a civilian. On someone I love.”
My voice broke on the last admission, my eyes stinging. So much for keeping things professional.
“This wasn’t a choice you made, Finn. This was a trauma response triggered by exhaustion and sensory overload. Your brain perceived a threat that wasn’t there and activated survival protocols.”
“That doesn’t make it okay.”
“No, it doesn’t. But it makes it medical rather than moral,” she made another note before leaning forward slightly.
“This level of intrusive imagery combined with command voice response represents escalation beyond what you’ve reported before.
Has anything else been contributing to this buildup?
Your endocrinology results? Did you have that conversation with Alex? ”
I nodded. “She took it like a champ. Said it didn’t change anything. She’s seen the scars now too,” my entire body flamed as I thought about her hands tracing over them. “Accepted all of it. I don’t know why.”
“What else?”
“I’ve been pushin’ myself too hard,” I rubbed absently at the sore spot on my thigh where my dad had administered my hormone injection. “The physical work feels good, but I think I’ve been using it as an excuse to prove I’m still capable. And I missed my injection on Monday. Felt it by Wednesday.”
“And what else?”
“And then the storm… working in the rain for hours, ignoring pain signals, fatigue warnings. By the time I got back to help with the flooding, I was already running on fumes.”
“And then you saw Alex in what your brain interpreted as danger.”
“She slipped near the water and I just—” I rubbed my forehead where the pressure was intensifying. “Couldn’t separate what was happening from what I was afraid might happen.”
“After Luke removed you, what occurred?”
“He brought me back to the lodge and I crashed. Completely. Alex found me unconscious in our room.”
“How did she find you? Did you drink at all? Did you take any drugs before falling asleep?”
“No ma’am,” I shook my head slightly. “Stripped down to my underwear and just passed out on the bed. She covered me with a blanket and slept in the other bed. She…”
Heat crept up my neck as I thought about the next part.
“She what, Finn?”
“She knows I’ve been getting injections without telling her. Without asking her to help,” my chest grew tight. “My dad brought it up in front of her.”
Elena’s expression grew more serious. “How are you processing that?”
“Shame… that I hid it or that I didn’t ask her, I don’t know,” I swallowed. “We talked today, but I can tell she’s being careful.”
“That’s normal after a traumatic incident.
She needs time to process what happened too,” Elena studied my face through the camera.
“But I’m concerned about the severity of this episode, Finn.
Complete loss of emotional regulation, command voice directed at a civilian, followed by physical collapse.
This crosses the threshold for crisis intervention. ”
My stomach dropped. “What does that mean?”
“I’m coming to Wyoming. I can’t provide adequate support for this level of escalation through video sessions,” her tone stayed professional, but her eyes were warm and sympathetic. “I need to assess your functioning in your environment and provide immediate crisis support.”
“Elena, you don’t have to—”
“Yes, I do. This isn’t just symptom management anymore. You had complete loss of control that affected your relationship and family dynamics. I’ll be there by tomorrow late afternoon. Send the address for the ranch.”
The weight of her words settled in my chest. Crisis intervention. My therapist was showing up in person because I’d broken down so completely, she had to make sure I wasn’t a danger to myself or others.
“What do I tell Alex? My family?”
“The truth. You’re taking your recovery seriously and getting the help you need.” She paused. “I’ll want to meet with Alex, if she’s willing. She was directly affected by this episode and needs to understand what happened and what it could mean for the future.”
“Yes ma’am.”
“For now, focus on getting through today and taking care of yourself until I arrive.” Elena’s voice softened slightly. “This isn’t failure, Finn. This is your brain trying to protect you with outdated protocols. But we need to update those protocols before you hurt yourself or someone else.”
“I know.” I did know, but it didn’t make me feel any better.
We ended the call and I sat staring out at the mountains. Tomorrow Elena would be here, observing my “functioning in my environment”—meeting with Alex to assess the damage I’d done to our relationship.
Clinical language didn’t make it sound any less like my life was spinning completely out of control.
The pressure behind my eyes was throbbing now. I checked my watch—another three hours until dinner with everyone expecting me to be functional enough for family time.
I shot off a quick text to Alex: Gonna lie down. Wake me when you get here so we can talk
I closed the curtains and laid down on our bed—the one I’d slept in alone last night.
The pillows smelled like Alex’s shampoo mixed with the scent of my soap.
Evidence of how tangled our lives had become in just a few weeks—how much damage I could do when my brain couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.
I woke to the soft sound of our door opening, followed by Alex’s familiar footsteps crossing to the dresser. The curtains were still drawn, leaving the room in dim afternoon shadows that didn’t immediately assault my eyes when I turned toward her.
“Hey,” she said quietly, setting her bag down near my backpack. “How are you feeling?”
I sat up carefully, checking. The headache had backed off to a dull throb instead of the sharp pressure from earlier.
“Better. Head’s manageable,” I rubbed the back of my neck. “How did work go?”
“Good. Tabitha sent over some new documentation for the criminal charges against Jordan.” I made room as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her hip brushing my leg. “And we’re building a huge case against Titan that might turn into a class-action lawsuit.”
“Good. Bastards deserve it.”
She smiled at that. “Agreed.”