Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
The heating repair bill arrived on Monday morning.
Twenty-eight hundred dollars. Even with the nearly three thousand they'd raised at the fundraiser, it left her with barely five hundred dollars in the emergency fund. But that wasn't what was bothering her.
What made her chest tighten was the realization that without Corey, none of this would have been possible.
She sat at her desk, looking at the invoice and the bank statement, and started cataloging everything.
The space heaters he'd shown up with. The HVAC connection through Tom Richardson.
The hours he'd spent at the fundraiser, setting up booths and selling raffle tickets and charming potential adopters.
The way he'd taken Presti into his pet-restricted condo without hesitation.
A few weeks ago, she hadn't even known him. Now his life seemed to revolve around her and the shelter.
Gayle pulled out her phone, intending to text him a thank-you. But her thumb hovered over the screen.
When had she last asked Corey about his life? About his teaching, his students, the things that mattered to him outside of her chaos? She tried to remember a conversation that wasn't about Presti or the shelter or whatever fire she was putting out, and came up short.
The front door chimed, and Miss Doris stepped inside carrying a paper bag.
"Morning, dear. I brought you a sandwich from the market. You looked thin yesterday."
"Miss Doris, I told you?—"
"Yes, yes, I know. I shouldn't feed you so much." Miss Doris set the bag on the desk. "But I'm doing it anyway."
Gayle managed a smile. "Thank you."
"How are the bills looking?"
"Manageable. Mostly thanks to Corey."
"That young man has been quite the addition to your operation.
" Miss Doris settled into the chair across from the desk.
"I saw him at the store yesterday. He was buying supplies for those adoption flyers you mentioned wanting to make.
He asked Hank if there was a community board where he could post some, and ended up in a forty-five minute conversation about the shelter. "
Gayle's stomach did something complicated. "He's been... very helpful."
"Helpful." Miss Doris repeated the word thoughtfully. "Patty Henderson mentioned him too. She said he'd stopped by the salon to ask if she'd consider donating a gift certificate for your next fundraiser. Apparently he's been making the rounds."
"He hasn't told me about any of that," Gayle said quietly.
"Why would he need to? He's just doing it." Miss Doris's tone was light, but her eyes were watchful. "He clearly cares about this place."
Gayle looked down at the bill, but she wasn't really seeing it anymore. She was seeing Corey running all over town, approaching anyone who could help them. He was weaving the shelter into the fabric of his entire life.
"Miss Doris?" Gayle said slowly. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course, dear."
"Do you think it's possible to care for someone too much? In a way that becomes too much for them?"
Miss Doris tilted her head, studying her. "What do you mean?"
"I mean..." Gayle struggled to find the words. "Daniel used to say that everything in my life was about the animals. That there wasn't room for him. That I was a lot. He wasn't wrong."
"Daniel was a fool," Miss Doris said firmly. "And he didn't love you the way you deserved."
"But what if he was right about the other part?
About me being too much?" Gayle gestured at the shelter around her.
At the kennels, the desk, the constant low hum of need.
"This is my whole life. And now Corey's life is starting to look like mine.
He's spending his evenings selling raffle tickets and his weekends at adoption events.
He took in a puppy he can't have at his condo.
He's pulling favors from his students' parents. "
"Because he wants to."
"Because he's a kind person who got tangled up with me," Gayle said. "And the kinder I let him be, the more tangled he gets."
Miss Doris was quiet for a long moment. "What are you saying, dear?"
"I don't know," Gayle admitted. "I think I need to be careful. Corey has his own life. His teaching job, his condo, his routines. He had all of that before me, and it was working for him. I don't want to be the thing that pulls him under."
"Have you asked him if he feels that way?"
"No," Gayle said. "But that's the problem, isn't it? If I ask him, he'll say no, because he's good and kind and would never tell me I'm too much. And then I'd let him keep being kind, and at some point he'd realize what he signed up for, and..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Miss Doris reached across the desk and took her hand. "Gayle. You are not Daniel's version of you. You're not the version of you he convinced you to be."
"Maybe not," Gayle said. "But I am someone who works sixty hours a week. I can't separate myself from this shelter. My whole life is animals and crises and not enough money and broken things. That's real, Miss Doris. That's not in my head."
"And you think Corey deserves better?"
"I think Corey deserves to know what he's getting into," Gayle said.
"And I'm not sure he does. He's seen me at fundraisers and Christmas markets.
He hasn't seen me at three a.m. when a sick animal needs help, or on the days when the bills don't add up and I have to decide which essential thing to skip. "
"So show him."
"That's not the point," Gayle said. "The point is that maybe I shouldn't be inviting him into more of it. Maybe I should be giving him space to remember he has his own life."
Miss Doris studied her for a long moment. "Is this about him? Or is this about you?"
Gayle didn't have an answer for that.
After Miss Doris left, Gayle sat at her desk for a long time, thinking. She thought about how easy it had been to slip into partnership with him. And how good that had felt.
And then she thought about Daniel. About the weeks before he'd left, when he'd grown quieter and quieter. He'd stopped asking about her day and she'd assumed everything was fine. Right up until the moment he told her she'd never made room for him in her life.
She'd loved Daniel. She'd thought she was doing everything right. And she'd still lost him because her life had been incompatible with his. Or at least his idea of what their life should be like.
What if she did the same thing to Corey? What if she let him keep pouring himself into her work, and one day he woke up and realized he'd lost himself in the process? The last thing she wanted was to become someone he resented.
It would be better, she thought, to give him room now. Before either of them was in too deep.
Her phone buzzed. A text from Corey: Hey, want to grab dinner tonight? I have something I want to tell you about.
Gayle stared at the screen for a long time.
Then she typed back: Can't tonight. Crazy at the shelter. Rain check?
She set the phone down before she could see his response. Her chest hurt, but she told herself this was the right thing.
She'd give him a little space. A chance to remember what his life was like without the chaos hers brought.
If he still wanted to be part of it after that, then maybe she could believe it was real.
But for now, she needed to step back.
For his sake.