Chapter 42 #2
The space between us felt less fragile than I thought it would, but it was still uneasy—like we were both monitoring the conversation for signs of trouble or breakdown.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” I said at length. “About today. About what comes next.”
Her expression shifted, becoming more alert. “Okay.”
“I called Dr. Martinez this afternoon. Elena, my therapist,” the words came easier the second time. “Had to report what happened yesterday.”
Alex nodded, not looking at me—her hands resting in her lap as she waited for the rest.
“She’s flying out here,” I watched her face for signs of panic or withdrawal. “My episode was serious enough that she needs to assess me in person.”
Alex’s eyes met mine. “That’s good, right? Getting help right when you need it? It’s the least they can do after their fancy jet broke your brain and nearly killed you.”
That got a surprised laugh from me—the response catching me off guard—and her eyes brightened, her posture relaxing.
“You’re not bothered that my therapist is coming here because I fell apart?”
“I’m concerned about you, not about her response to helping you,” she lifted a shoulder. “I assume Elena’s a military trauma specialist, right? It makes sense that’s who you’d be assigned.”
“Yeah.” I loved my clever girlfriend.
“Then I trust her judgment. If she thinks you need immediate support, you should get it.” She paused. “What does this mean for the next little bit?”
Another question I’d been dreading. “She’ll want to meet with you. Observe how we interact, understand the family dynamics. Part of assessing my environment includes understanding my support system.”
“Makes sense,” she nodded. “What should I expect?”
I studied Alex’s face. She looked calm, thoughtful—same as every other time I’d told her some new way I was defective now.
“She’ll ask about what you witnessed yesterday, how it affected you, what you’ve observed about my functioning overall.” I pushed ahead with the harder part, “she’ll probably want to know about our relationship. What’s real, what started as pretense, where we stand now.”
“And what would you want me to tell her about that?”
“The truth,” I said finally. “Whatever that is for you.”
Alex was quiet for a moment, considering. “The truth is that seeing you break down yesterday scared me, but not because I wanted to run. Because I realized how much I care about you and how out of my depth I felt. How out of your depth you must feel every day.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “You sure you can handle this getting more complicated?”
“Finn, we were complicated weeks ago. This is just another thing to figure out. You’re dealing with it responsibly. I’d be more worried if you were brushing things off. When are we expected at dinner?”
“Six,” I glanced at the clock—just after five. “I should probably shower.”
“Maybe one day you’ll do that before you fall asleep in our bed,” she teased gently, standing up. “I need to call my mom. I think I’ve tortured her enough.”
“Alex,” I grabbed her hand. “Thank you for… hell… being terrifyingly cool about this whole thing.”
“I’m anything but cool about it, Walker. I think I’ve been ‘cool’ about things exactly twice in my lifetime.” She squeezed my hand, “but I’m not going anywhere.”
“Then thank you for staying. For being willing to talk to Elena. For not running when this got real.”
“You don’t have to thank me for loving you, Finn.”
The scent of roasted chicken filled the main house as I opened the door, Alex’s hand still in mine from our walk over—a steady presence that helped keep my pulse from running high.
The kitchen buzzed with the usual family dinner prep energy.
Mom at the stove, Elowyn preparing a salad at the island, and the kids fighting over which side of the plate the forks should go as they set the table.
“There you are,” Mom looked up as we came through the door, offering Alex a warm smile. “Perfect timing. How did work go today, sweetheart?”
“Great, thank you. Being able to work in Nolan’s office is a real blessing.”
“He won’t say it, but he appreciates the company more than he lets on.”
Alex squeezed my hand and let go, moving toward the counter where serving dishes waited. “What can I do to help?”
“You can carry the potatoes to the dining room,” Mom gestured toward a steaming bowl. “Finn, grab the rolls.”
We fell into the familiar choreography of getting dinner on the table. Dad appeared from his office, Luke from wherever he’d been working outside, everyone converging on tradition.
“Where’s Móraí?” I asked, noting the empty chair at one end of the table.
“Resting,” Mom squeezed my arm. “Had a long day and decided to eat in her room tonight. The weather affects her too these days. She sends her love to you both.”
We settled into our usual spots—Alex beside me, Luke and Elowyn across, with the kids scattered between us all and my folks at the head.
“Fence lines seem to be holding well after yesterday’s rain,” Dad cut into his chicken. “If it hadn’t been for you working to get that north pasture repaired, Finn, we’d likely be chasing down cattle today.”
My chest warmed at the praise as Alex squeezed my leg.
“Shouldn’t need any more repairs this season,” Luke added.
“Belle, tell Alex about your art camp project,” Mom suggested.
Belle launched into an enthusiastic description of her summer project—something involving mixed media and environmental themes that required her to use her hands as much as her voice to explain.
Under the table, Alex’s hand found mine, fingers threading together with gentle pressure that kept my pulse steady even when Jack’s fork clattered against his plate loud enough to make me flinch.
“I love your approach,” Alex was saying to Belle. “It wouldn’t be hard to incorporate some stop-motion with your sculptures.”
Belle’s eyes lit up. “Could you show me how?”
“Absolutely.”
Conversation flowed around the table—Belle’s art projects, Jack’s soccer camp, business operations, more July Fourth plans.
I couldn’t help checking my stress levels throughout dinner—worried that something might set off another episode. But surrounded by family, with Alex next to me, and the familiar comfort of Mom’s cooking, everything stayed manageable.
“How’s the legal situation with Titan?” Dad asked Alex as Mom served apple pie. I was surprised by his question, not realizing how much they must have talked about her company.
“Our lawyers are certainly earning their retainer,” Alex joked. “All I need to do now is figure out how to buy out my partner so he can retire.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out, honey,” Mom smiled. “You seem like you can do anything you set your mind to.”
Pride filled my chest at the fact that my parents recognized how amazing she was.
As dinner wound down and the kids started clearing dishes, I felt the familiar warning signs that I was running out of social energy—exhaustion setting in earlier than I’d anticipated. My body reminding me I still needed extra recovery from the last few days.
“Think I’m going to head back to the lodge,” I whispered to Alex. It was barely eight. “You can stay if you want.”
She studied my face a moment before responding, “I’ll walk back with you.”
We said our goodbyes and walked back to the lodge in the gathering dusk. Alex slipped her hand around my arm.
“You did good tonight,” she said. “I know that wasn’t easy.”
“You made it easier.”
“They’re being so careful with you.”
“Yeah. Probably gonna be like that for a while,” I glanced at her. “You okay with that?”
“I’m okay with whatever it takes for you to feel safe while you heal.”
“I don’t think I deserve you,” I said as we reached our door.
“Hmm. Too bad you’re stuck with me.”
Inside our room, Alex got ready for the evening—pulling her contacts out and her hair up before shunning her bra and day clothes for soft pajamas and a relieved look on her face. It was a transformation I never got tired of watching.
“There’s something else I need to tell you,” I started when she’d settled into the chair by the window, her e-reader in her hand. “About this morning. About what my dad said.”
Alex set down her device, her expression growing serious as I sat on the edge of the bed near her. “The injections.”
“Yeah,” I looked down at my hands. “I’ve been hidin’em from you. I asked my dad to help because my hands haven’t been steady enough to do it on my own yet. I didn’t want to bother you with them.”
“Finn,” her voice stayed steady, direct. “I knew you were hiding something. I never said anything because I figured you’d tell me when you were ready, but it hurt to find out you were going to your dad instead of me after everything else we’ve shared.”
The admission hit harder than an accusation would have, especially delivered in her practical tone that held no emotion either way.
“That must have been exhausting,” she continued, “for both of us. Me pretending not to notice or feel rejected and you working so hard to keep me from seeing because you thought I’d care.”
“I don’t want you to see me as broken,” my words came out quiet. “Didn’t want you to look at me and see even more damage you hadn’t signed up for. Another defective part.”
“Do they hurt?” she asked gently. “The injections?”
“The needle is longer than I expected,” I admitted. “My leg’s sore for a few days after.”
Alex was quiet for a long moment, and when she spoke, her voice was smaller than usual.
“When your dad brought it up, everything suddenly made sense. Why you were more confident, stronger, more willing to show me all of you, engage in…” she trailed off, then started again.
“Then I realized you didn’t trust me enough to help you reclaim that part of yourself.
Steady.” Glassy eyes met mine, “that hurt the most.”
My heart caught in my throat.
“It wasn’t about not trusting you. It was about not trusting that you’d want to stay once you knew how much more was required for me to be the man you deserve. I was afraid.”
“Sweetheart, if you haven’t figured out by now that there’s little you could do that would send me running in the other direction, I don’t know what to tell you. Either you trust me completely or you don’t.”
“I know. I do… trust you that is.”
“Then act like it. None of this makes you broken or defective, Finn. Everything is proof you survived something that should have killed you.” Her voice wavered slightly, “but hiding things from me? That keeps us from really knowing one another. And we agreed to be open with each other.”
“Elena will probably ask you about this too,” I leaned forward, picking at the fabric of my jeans. “Whether there are other things I’ve been hidin’, whether you feel like you really know me.”
“And I’ll tell her the truth. That you’ve been protecting yourself the only way you knew how, but that protection has been keeping me from seeing all of who you are.” Alex paused. “I’m desperate to know all of you, Finn. The parts that are easy to love and the parts that scare you.”
“Even if some of it’s ugly or painful?”
“Especially then. We’re still figuring out what it means to love someone without trying to control what they see or know about us. At least it’s something I’m still learning how to do.”
“I know it’s not exactly romantic, but if you’re willin’, my next injection is in two weeks. Maybe you could... help me with it? If you want to.”
“Not like you to hedge, Finn,” she teased gently. “I’m more than happy to help. Thank you for asking.”
I swallowed. “And I might be a bit… compromised for the next little bit. Now that I missed a dose, it’ll take a couple of weeks to get back to my new baseline.”
“Good thing I’m emotionally stable now and totally not on drugs to keep my brain in check,” Alex huffed, rolling her eyes.
“Darlin’ if you ever feel angry toward me, like I know you did this mornin’, you should let it out.”
“I don’t think that’s wise—”
“I mean it. I’d rather you scream or beat the shit out of me than experience what happened yesterday. You’re terrifying when you shut down. I’m sorry I caused it.”
“Yeah, well… I can’t promise anything. Shutting down is my brain’s default setting, but I’ll try.”
We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the conversation settling between us. Outside, the ranch had gone quiet as night settled over the mountains.
“Do you want to go to bed?” she asked quietly, getting up. “You look like you’re about to drop.”
I nodded, suddenly aware of how exhausted I felt.
We brushed our teeth side by side before she moved back to the room, giving me space to change.
When I returned to the bed, Alex was propped against our headboard, pillows from the extra bed tucked behind her, legs stretched out and her e-reader in her hands.
I stopped when I saw her, surprised by her choice.
“My choice, every night,” she quipped. “I’m going to read a bit, but I want to be close to you. If that’s okay.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice. I climbed in next to her as she turned the bedside lamp down.
“I missed you,” I whispered, snaking one arm across her middle.
“I missed you too,” she whispered back as her hand found my hair, fingers scraping gently against my scalp. A contented sigh escaped my lips—her touch relaxing me fully.
“Elena’s going to help,” she added in the darkness. “And we’re going to figure out how to trust each other completely.”
“Partners.”
“Partners.”