Lachlan
The waiting room sound chimed as my therapist, Dr. Sloane Donovan, logged on to our session.
“Hey, Doc. I didn’t cancel this week, so I guess that’s a win, right?”
“Yes. I’m always happy to see you in session. But I’ve noticed that tends to be your greeting when something has happened. What’s going on?”
I sighed, sitting back in the chair before running my hand over my jaw. I should have shaved before the telehealth visit. I knew it was going to bother me, consume all of my attention, and still, I couldn’t do it.
“I had another nightmare.”
“About the accident?” she asked, her voice even.
“Isn’t it always?”
“Well, yes. So far it has been. But that doesn’t mean it can’t or won’t change as we dive deeper into therapy.”
I shrugged, my good leg bouncing up and down under my dining room table. “I hope it does. I can’t really keep going like this. If it’s not the physical pain in my leg, it’s the goddamn mental scars etched in my brain.”
Sloane nodded. “How did you handle the dream?”
“Like I usually do. I woke up sweating, my leg was throbbing, and I felt like I was going to throw up.”
“The same sensations you’ve described when we talk about leaving the house,” she noted.
I nodded. Fuck. I thought we’d have more time before she brought that up.
“Do you think the nightmare is happening again because of the progress you are making with your agoraphobia?”
“Isn’t that something that you should be telling me, Doc?”
Sloane smiled. “I like to poll the audience every once in a while. Therapy is all about introspection, after all.”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “It could be. I made it farther yesterday before I felt like I was going to throw up.”
“That’s great. Were you able to get onto the porch like we discussed?”
I nodded. “I haven’t made it beyond the porch, though.” I could hear the disgust laced in my words. It didn’t take a genius to see the connection. My anxiety was trapped in my brain, and because I couldn’t let go of it, I was physically trapped in my own house.
“Lach, can I ask you something?” Sloane’s eyes had crinkled around the edges and she tipped her head slightly to the left as she looked at me.
“Yeah, Doc, shoot.”
“What is it about the edge of the porch that feels so monumental to you?”
Fuck. If I knew, I’d be better by now.
“I don’t know. I guess…maybe it’s because I know that as soon as I step off the porch, then the goal post moves.
And where does it end? Because, it’s not so terrible to think about being able to walk around the ranch.
To visit Colt and Vi, or stop in to see Beckett with Jessie and Hawk any time I want.
But if the ultimate goal is to get into town again?
No. Fuck no. I don’t want to see anyone.
I don’t want to go to my shop and see how it’s sitting there, waiting for me to return.
I don’t want to have to answer questions about how I’m doing, or see people’s faces fill up with sympathy when they realize I have to use a cane now.
I don’t want questions about the accident, or where my fucking best friend who did this to me is now, or any of it. ”
Through the screen, Sloane nodded.
“Okay, let’s take a second to digest all that.
Because from where I’m sitting, it sounds like we’re compounding our goals.
It’s okay to not be ready to go back into town.
You don’t have to. No one is saying the second you step off the porch, you have to head to your truck and drive down Ford Avenue in your own personal parade. ”
I chuckled, even if there wasn’t much humor behind it.
“But what was exciting for me to hear was your desire to be able to go outside and be an active part of the ranch. To move around the property and see your siblings.”
I shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal. They all come here to see me.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. Because the Lachlan who sat in our session two weeks ago couldn’t even make it through the idea of standing on his porch without breaking out into a sweat, and telling me all the reasons why it was never going to happen.
And how many days have you stepped out onto your porch since then? ”
“Every day.”
She smiled. “Every. Day. That’s not nothing, Lach. You’re putting in the hard work. I’d say the goal is, and will remain, integrating back into life on the ranch with your family. They know what you’ve been through. They know what this new normal is like. And they are cheering you on.”
“So how do I…” I closed my eyes and tipped my face up to the ceiling. “How do I tell my brain I’m not going to be hurt, and something bad isn’t going to happen when I leave here?”
“Exactly how you just did.” Sloane cleared her throat. “Say it out loud. Shout it, if you need to. Let your brain know that you are safe, and the overactive part that is taking so much from you right now needs to stand down.”
Okay. I could do this. It was two feet on the ground. The real ground. Dirt, grass, and sun on my face. It was going to be good.
Sloane was right. I wanted to be able to get around the ranch. To spend more time with my family. To not feel like such a burden to them. And it started with putting my goddamn feet on the fucking ground.
Before I could take another step closer to the edge, Lainey’s car came rattling to a stop in front of my house. There were at least six things she needed to get checked out immediately on that hunk of junk before she drove it again. What the fuck was Greg thinking?
Her belly was the first thing I saw as she hoisted herself from the driver’s seat.
“Hey, Lach.”
“Hey,” I called back. Okay, at least seven things needed to get fixed, because she was bright red and her hair was fucking plastered to her temples. That fucker was letting his pregnant fiancé drive around in a car with no AC in the middle of the Texas summer.
She pulled two aluminum trays out from the backseat of her car, bumping the door shut with her hip as she made her way up to the porch. I took a few steps closer, shoving down the rolling sensation in my stomach as the stairs came into view.
“The trays are still a little warm. I meant to bake them last night, but this bowling ball attached to me isn’t a fan of letting me stay up late. I made the macaroni and cheese like you asked, but I had to swap out the salmon and rice this week for chicken. He doesn’t like fish.”
I knew she meant the baby, but I couldn’t resist. “Greg?”
“Yeah. Like father, like son.”
“Let’s hope not,” I grumbled. Her eyes ran over me, the line between her furrowed brows growing deeper the closer she got.
“How far’d you make it today?” she asked. I held out my hand and waited for her to put the two containers into my outstretched arm.
“To right here,” I grumbled, ready for the quick comment I knew she’d make about my lack of progress. But she didn’t say anything. Not until she was past me, heading toward the bench.
“Where do you want these?” Her voice trailed over her shoulder back to me.
“In my hand.”
Lainey turned around, her eyes rolling. “I can set them down for you.”
I ground my molars. “I know you’re trying to be nice, but I’m not incapable of carrying things because I’ve got one hand on my cane.”
Her face didn’t move except for the tiniest, almost imperceptible tightening of the small muscles around her eyes. “No one has ever accused me of trying to be nice.”
I scooped the trays from her hands and took the five steps over to the bench, turning to make sure I could give her hell before she bolted.
“What’s going on with your car?”
Her hand came up and poked against the top of her belly.
I wasn’t even sure she realized she was doing it; her eyes focused to my driveway while her face flushed.
“Don’t even get me started. Greg was supposed to take it to the shop in Bell Ridge, but he decided to buy himself a new truck instead.
So, I get to ride around in a car older than you, sweating my ass off making deliveries, and he gets a fancy new toy. ”
God, I hated that asshole. “That’s fucked up.”
“Yeah. I know it is. I was gonna drive over to the mechanic’s myself this afternoon but…” Her hands went to her back, and I could see her fingers dig into the muscles around her spine. “I just don’t have the energy to.”
“I could take a look for you.”
Where the fuck had that offer come from?
“Uh, no offense. But I don’t think you want me parking my car up here.”
Christ. “I can walk over there.”
We both knew that was a fucking lie. Lainey didn’t challenge me on that, but maybe it was the push I needed.
“Okay. Yeah. That would be great. I’m not an expert like you but…” Lainey’s voice faded into the background as the beat of my heart grew louder in my ears. My fucking eyes couldn’t stop looking at the edge of the porch.
This was no big deal.
There was no reason that I should be feeling dizzy.
I was going to help Lainey. I was going to do something for her. Her piece of shit fiancé couldn’t be bothered, but Birdie would want me to help if I could…and I should be able to.
I took another step, Lainey now down the stairs and halfway to her car. A fucking pregnant woman looked like a goddamn marathon runner next to how slow I was going.
“Lach? Are you okay?”
My fucking cane was shaking in my hand. No. It was my whole goddamn body. Sweat pricked at the back of my neck and my stomach clenched as I took another step toward the edge.
“I…” My mouth was dryer than a fucking desert, and no matter how hard I tried to focus on Lainey and the fucking pathetically sad look she had on her face, it couldn’t distract me from what my mind was screaming at me.
Inside was safe.
Inside was quiet.
Outside, something bad could happen.
What if something happened?
Something bad was about to happen.
Dark spots danced across my vision as I tried to slow my breathing down. My mouth was still open, but it didn’t feel like I was getting any air into my lungs.
My body stepped back. Just one single step, and already the hooks were loosening. Because my mind knew. I was weak, and I was going to let the fear win.
“I…” I shook my head, turning away from her. “I’m sorry,” I whispered, knowing she would never hear the words. Because by the time they’d floated off the porch, I was already inside.
My back pressed against the solid door, the breath sawing in and out of my lungs.
I fucking hated my mind. I hated my body.
I hated this version of myself that I had no fucking control over.
No matter how many times I tried, no matter how I framed it in my mind, I was never going to get out of this house.
I was never going to get off that fucking porch.
Will Lainey be the catalyst Lachlan needs to face and overcome his agoraphobia? Will Lachlan be able to step in, when Lainey needs him the most? Find out in Derecho, book 3 in the Silver Ridge Ranch series.