Chapter Fourteen
Rue
As long as I could remember, I was someone who fretted about everything.
My maternal grandmother, who watched me after school used to call me her ‘little worry wart.’
To be fair, a lot of that came from the impossible standards set by my high-achieving parents.
They’d both done what they were supposed to do.
Got good grades in high school, joined all the extracurricular activities, volunteered.
Everything they needed to do to secure their places at a prestigious Ivy League.
They met there, dated, but took their studies most seriously. After college, they got good jobs, saved, married, and bought a house. Then came us kids. And we were all expected to be just as good as our parents were. Better, even.
The problem was, I didn’t thrive in sports like my siblings. I also hadn’t been born with any innate artistic or musical skill. And I was entirely too clumsy for dance or gymnastics.
School also didn’t come as easily to me as my parents hoped. Once I was old enough, though, to feel their disapproval, I put the pressure on myself to do better. I spent all my free time studying, applying myself, doing extra credit.
The external and internal pressure continued on through high school as college loomed.
As hard as I tried, I didn’t get into my parents’ alma mater. Or any of the hopeful schools they had for me. I didn’t even get into my personal top five.
Then, finally, I got an acceptance letter.
I sensed my parents’ frustration, but was determined to do well, to succeed, to make them proud, get a good job, the whole nine yards.
Pretty soon after I moved into my dorm and started classes, though, my anxiety began to spiral.
“My roommate hated me,” I told Kylo. “And she made it painfully clear.”
So I felt unwelcome at my “home,” and made the library where I spent most of my time. I figured that was maybe even a good thing; I would study more.
But then I had several professors who were really difficult to please. The lower they graded me, the harder I worked, the more I studied, the less I slept.
“The anxiety turned toward really debilitating panic attacks. I started missing classes. I fell behind. Things got… dark.”
Kylo reached across the table, placing his hand over mine and giving it a squeeze. Like he knew where this was going.
“I don’t really even have much memory of this part. But I guess I was down for so long that my roommate reached out to administrators about me not getting out of bed, bathing, eating, anything. I guess they called my parents.”
I remembered them showing up as this united front with stern faces and a plan.
Of course they had a plan.
They always had a plan.
I was going to take the year off, recalibrate, then try again.
“Going home just made it worse, though. It felt like a failure. It was a failure. I think two months passed. I didn’t even get up for Christmas. I just slept my whole life away.”
Eventually, they decided I needed to go away. Get professional help.
“I spent a few weeks at a treatment center, having therapy, getting on medications.”
“Were things better after?” Kylo asked.
“Not at first. Not for a while, actually. I had to do outpatient work with a team to keep adjusting things. That’s when my parents showed up with Ernest,” I told him, remembering him in all his long-eared, wrinkly glory.
“They—or more specifically my shrink—thought having the responsibility of taking out, feeding, bathing, and playing with a dog might help. They also went with a Basset, figuring he would be happy to spend his time in bed with me when I didn’t feel like getting up. ”
“Well, he certainly does like his rest,” Kylo agreed.
“Right? He was like that as a puppy, too. He’d have these short bursts of energy, playing tug on the bed, then he would pass out hard for hours. It sounds ridiculous, but he really did make a huge difference for me.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. Remember that neighbor I mentioned?”
“The one who is married to your friend now?”
“Yeah. Siana. She struggled a lot with anxiety. And she had an English Setter that really helped her cope.”
“My parents didn’t like pets. Especially dogs. They found them dirty and demanding and… pointless, I guess is the right word. I had no idea how much love he would have to offer. He really was the biggest part of me finally being able to start functioning. And then… one day, I got a call.”
“From Claudia?” he asked, making my lips curve up that he’d remembered my grandma’s name.
“Yes. She was a different person from the grandmother I remembered when my grandpa had been alive. So much calmer, freer. Just talking to her felt like basking in the sun. And when she offered me a chance to start over, I just… jumped.”
My parents had been furious. With her—for offering—and me—for accepting. They thought I was too fragile, that I wouldn’t be able to handle the stress of having my own place, let alone running a business.
And while a part of me understood their concerns, and had my own worries, something told me I had to do it. I had to take the opportunity, try to prove to myself that I wasn’t broken, that I could find some joy in life again.
So I packed my things, grabbed Ernest, and headed to Florida.
“Did you feel better, or was the stress a lot at first?”
“Well, at first, I had a lot of help from my grandmother. Looking back, I think she wasn’t just showing me the ropes of the house and the business, but keeping a close eye on me.
So, yeah, the stress was lower. Eventually, I got the hang of taking care of plants.
I started making the house my home. I met and hired and befriended Traeger.
Little by little, life got better. The depression kind of went away.
Enough that I eventually weaned down on the meds, since I didn’t really need them like I used to. ”
I knew from therapy that sometimes lifestyle changes could be just as effective for anxiety and depression as meds could be; that for some people, you just needed the meds to get your motivation back to work at building a life you loved again.
The move to Florida made a lot of pieces fall into place. I had a career I was thriving in, my own space, a supportive grandmother, a friend, lots of sunshine which was good for my vitamin D levels, and I was more removed from the pressures and expectations of my family.
It was all going amazingly.
Until Marco.
I shook those thoughts away.
“But, sometimes, things like this cycle back,” I concluded, shrugging. “I adjusted my meds. But I’ve been feeling kind of blah, and I can’t figure out if that is still the depression peeping through, or if it is just the meds themselves.”
“And then you have stress like tonight on top of it all.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t help,” I agreed.
Sure, he only thought my place got ransacked, not that I’d been forced to commit crimes and threatened with violence. But even just having your business torn apart was enough to stress out anyone.
“Are you going to tell your grandmother about what happened tonight?” he asked, making me jerk up.
I hadn’t even considered that. Mostly because I’d been planning on not saying anything to anyone.
But with the pots broken, I knew I’d have to tell Traeg, unless I wanted to pay for all of them outright—and I wasn’t sure I could afford that.
If I told Traeger, there was a small chance that could possibly circle back to my grandmother.
She followed him online, and if he posted about hustling extra hard because his other pots got destroyed, she would have questions.
It made sense to just tell her what I’d told Kylo.
Wild kids did destructive things all the time.
I could claim I’d been in the kitchen when a crew came in and quickly started to wreck things.
By the time I came out, they rushed off and I didn’t really get a look at them, so calling the police felt pointless.
Just annoying kids doing annoying kid stuff, like smashing pumpkins around Halloween or TP’ing trees.
I’d assure her that I got the cameras fixed in case it happened again.
I hated to lie.
But I’d been lying for quite a while about the whole Marco situation already. What was one more in the grand scheme of things? The last thing I wanted was for her to get involved in any way. She was in danger enough already.
“So, your next day off… you wanna try to scratch something off that list of yours again?” he asked. “Or do you need to keep things chill for a while?”
Was he actually still… interested?
After my little backstory? After crying all over him?
My heart fluttered even as my mind told me not to get my hopes up too high.
“I don’t think I’m up for something crazy like parasailing. But I might be interested in doing some of the more tame things.”
“Could I plan it, or would the surprise be too anxiety-inducing?” he asked, leaning back in his chair.
“So long as I can back out if it’s too much, I think a surprise might be something good to think about for a change.”
“Good. Then I’ll get on that.”
“Do you need a copy of the note?”
“I remember a good chunk of the highlights.”
“Really? Why?”
“It’s interesting. I don’t have a bucket list. I’ve done a little bit of everything. It’s kind of fun to help you scratch things off. Plus, good company.”
“And by that, you clearly mean Ernest,” I said, waving over toward my dog who’d flipped onto his back, his short legs straight up in the air, his head spread out on the floor, and his wrinkly face looking like it was melting backward.
“Who wouldn’t want to listen to a wood chipper inside their house?” he asked as Ernest snored away.
“Thanks for this,” I said, realizing I’d finished my plate. “I needed this.”
I needed it all.
Someone to find my dog and be there while I broke apart. A safe place to unwind. Food.
“It was really lucky you were passing by and saw Ernest,” I added, thinking of how wrecked I would have been if something happened to him.
“Yeah,” Kylo agreed, getting to his feet. “Right place, right time for sure.”
He seemed in a hurry to get the dishes back to the kitchen all of a sudden.
Maybe I’d overstayed my welcome.
I grabbed the fork that he’d left behind and rushed behind him.
“I should get going,” I offered.
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ve already stolen several hours of your night. Besides, you have plans to make,” I added, trying to play it off so he didn’t feel weird about wanting me to get going. He probably had a party or something to get back to at the other house.
“That’s true,” he agreed as he shoved the cartons of food back into the bag. “I’m sending this home with you.”
“What? Why?”
“I can’t keep leftovers here, since I’m not here often. And I’d break Eddie’s heart to bring take-out back to the clubhouse.”
“Oh, well, we can’t break Eddie’s heart,” I said, taking the bag from him.
Just then, Ernest let out the loudest snore from the other room. “I’m gonna need a forklift.”
“I’ll put him in for you. But you’re gonna have to find a way to get him out on the other end.”
“A piece of chicken jerky could wake him up from a coma,” I told him, getting a chuckle.
With that, we made our way back out to my car, where Kylo struggled to get Ernest’s dead weight into the backseat as I set the Chinese food on the floor of the passenger side.
“I will wash your clothes and give them back on Tuesday,” I told him as he slammed the door and exhaled hard.
“I’ll do the same for yours,” he said, making me momentarily panic about which bra and panties I’d been wearing until I remembered basic black and relaxed a little.
“Do you have a time or place in mind?”
“Want to meet here?”
“Sure.”
“I can text you about a time once I get things set up.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” he said, a ghost of a smile playing with his lips.
“Well, thanks again for—”
I lost the rest of that sentence when his lips sealed over mine.
Who would have thought that all it would take to completely melt away all the tension in my body and the anxious thoughts in my mind was a kiss?
I think it was meant to be brief, just a quick promise of something more.
But the second I leaned into him, a soft moan escaping me, Kylo seemed to abandon that plan.
His hand slid behind my neck, tilting my head up as his lips slanted, pressed deeper.
He backed me up against my car as my hands slipped up his back, holding on as the warmth flooded my system, as the need pinged off every nerve ending all at once.
A rumbling sound moved through Kylo and vibrated into me as he crushed me against my car, his hard length pressed against my belly.
I was seconds away from asking him to take me back inside when there was a bleep of someone’s car unlocking, making us both spring apart, breathless, startled.
Kylo reached back to rub the back of his neck, looking a little sheepish as his neighbor came out of their front door.
He offered the guy an awkward wave before looking back at me.
“Tuesday.”
“Tuesday,” I agreed.
I couldn’t wait to see what he was going to come up with. Even if my body would have been perfectly okay with just spending the day in his bed.
I should have put that on the damn list.