Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87364 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 349(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
“I hate that you’re feeling this way,” I say. “Trauma like what we experienced can hang around for a long damn time.”
Those were the right words, as gratitude shines in her eyes, and her shoulders relax slightly. Her stare never wavers. “Are you scared?”
I’m honest with her. “Not of being attacked again. But I’ve been living under a fear of not being normal again.”
Sophie lets out a humorless laugh. “I feel so silly being obsessed with this fear. Practically, I know the chances of it ever happening again are small.”
“Extremely small if you don’t go anywhere.”
A slight nod of admission is followed by a flush of embarrassment in her cheeks. “I got fired yesterday because I couldn’t get back to my normal job.”
“I’m sorry,” I say earnestly. “That sucks.”
“I’m doing all the right things. I’ve been in therapy, and I do go out sometimes and have been getting braver. It’s just taking so damn long.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself.”
She smiles and then bends to check on the corn bread. As she’s pulling it out of the oven, I decide to see exactly how brave she’s getting.
“So if I invited you to lunch, would you meet me there?”
She places the corn bread on the counter, takes off the oven mitts, and faces me with one eyebrow cocked. “How close by?”
“What’s the farthest you’ll usually travel away from your house?” I query.
“I go to Mount Lebanon to see my parents, but other than that, just a few miles.”
I think for a moment before saying, “Listen… I’m a traditionalist, and inviting you out to lunch means I would pick you up. But I think you need some pushing of boundaries, so how about you meet me for lunch at the Fairview, and we can eat there?”
“Is that where you’re staying?”
“Until I can decide what to do for housing. I don’t know whether to rent or buy, or stay in the city or a little farther out. I figure I’ll look around this weekend.”
Sophie leans against the counter, crosses her arms, and studies me. “You’re going to push me, aren’t you?”
“Yup.”
“You know I don’t need saving,” she points out.
“Kind of used to it by now,” I retort with a grin.
Sophie busts out laughing, and fuck if it’s not beautiful. She shakes her head, not in denial, but amusement.
“We’re going to be good friends, Sophie,” I assure her. “I’ve come a long way from that awful night, and I’m not going to leave you behind.”
Her expression softens, the threat of tears again in her eyes. She blinks furiously and nods. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” I reply with a smile and then nod meaningfully at the chili. “Now, is the food ready because I’m starved.”
She laughs again. “It’s ready. Let me dish it up.”
CHAPTER 7
Sophie
My palms are damp as I pull onto Liberty Avenue and the Fairview Hotel comes into view. With no luck whatsoever, this morning I tried to back out of lunch with Baden. When I woke up with an acute case of nerves—the thought of driving and parking downtown made me want to vomit—I decided to chicken out and cancel.
It wasn’t so much the driving to the Fairview that bothered me but rather the parking and walking to the hotel. There’s a garage near the Wood Street subway station, only a block away from our meeting point, but the prospect of traversing the shadows and the multitude of hiding places between cars freaked me out.
It was more than I could bear, so I sent Baden a text that said, I’m not going to make lunch today. I’m sorry.
I expected him to text back with something like, No worries. We can reschedule.
But when Baden told me yesterday that we were going to be good friends and that he was not going to leave me behind, he meant it. His text held no subtlety whatsoever: Whatever it is that’s making you too afraid to come here, let’s figure out how to deal with it.
I stared at my phone in disbelief. He was actually going to push me to do this.
I started a reply to brush him off, but my phone rang, his name on the caller ID. Hesitant, I answered, “Hello?”
“This is too important to text back and forth,” Baden said crisply, then chuckled. “Oh, and good morning.”
“Good morning,” I replied automatically, my heart racing a tiny bit. Fear of him making me go, excitement in hearing his voice, awe he cared enough to call and not text.
“So, what’s your main fear?” he asked, no room within his determined tone to let me brush him off.
I decided to go with it. “I don’t want to have to park in the parking garage and walk over to the Fairview. The thought of it terrifies me.”
And then the man proved why we would indeed become good friends. He didn’t try to push me beyond barriers I knew I couldn’t make it past. He didn’t shame me. He showed no frustration.