Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
“So how does it feel to use those tools again?”
My hands started shaking. “I don’t know. I—”
“Hey.” His fingers gripped my wrist to steady my hand. “You don’t have to do this. It’s not like I can’t just—”
“No, I want to.” I blew out a breath. “It’s a good idea to see if I can manage it, especially if I ever…”
“Get back on your feet?”
I nodded. “The shelter sent me on a job interview with a salon near the Flats. It was an entry-level position, to sweep the floors and shampoo customers.”
“And how did that go?”
I looked away. “I chickened out.”
Sympathy shined in his eyes. “Tell me why.”
“I…” I swallowed roughly. “I used to be comfortable in those kinds of posh environments. But as soon as the receptionist saw me walk in, my rolling cart left right inside the door, I noticed how uncomfortable she looked. Like I might rob her or who the hell knows what.”
He frowned. “That sucks.”
“The manager knew the shelter might send me—they’d done a fundraiser with this salon in the past—and Tessa, our social worker, put in a good word for me, but the thing is, if you don’t have a phone or address, it makes getting a job tricky.”
“I didn’t realize how many stumbling blocks there were.”
“I figure most people don’t.” Strangers made assumptions about all sorts of things. The humanity between people felt lost for the most part. It was one of the reasons it was risky to trust anyone.
Foster arched a brow. “It’s also hard for you to rely on the kindness of strangers, isn’t it?”
I winced. “It’s complicated.”
14
FOSTER
To say my conversation with Lachlan tonight had been eye-opening was an understatement.
He paced cagily in front of me, but it was just as unnerving for me. Even if it was my idea in the first place. Given the tension in the air, it was stupid to blurt, “Nice hoodie, by the way.”
He froze. “Do you want it back? I probably shouldn’t have—”
“It looks good on you,” I admitted. “I thought I made it clear you were free to keep the clothes from that night.”
God, I’d only made it more awkward.
“You did. Thanks for that.” He peeled the hoodie from his shoulders. “Speaking of which, I’m feeling a little heated.” He draped it over a chair, then turned back to me with wariness in his gaze.
I took a deep breath and shut my eyes, hoping it would help him relax.
“What are you doing?” He sounded closer, but I stayed still.
“I thought it might help, plus I like zoning out with my eyes closed. I’ve been trying some deep-breathing exercises for my depression, so this is good practice.”
“Are the exercises helping?” He began combing my hair.
“Somewhat. But when I’m at my worst, it’s like falling into an abyss.” As I talked, I could feel the tension leave him, so I continued. “Like there’s only gray all around me and no footholds to help me get out. Just a void of nothingness. As if I’m looking at the world through a drab, dirty lens, if that makes sense.”
I heard his intake of air, and his hands stilled.
Damn, that sounded bleak even to my ears. Had I admitted too much? But somehow, it was easy to talk to him, and especially with my eyes closed.
“It does makes sense,” he replied softly, and I wanted to open my eyes to see his expression, but I kept them shut. It was better this way. “It’s sort of what the last year of my life has felt like. As if I’m viewing the world from behind a sheer veil. It’s dreamlike that I’m even surviving on the streets. But I am. I’m doing it.”
“I can hear something like pride in your voice.”
“It might sound bizarre, but after what I…what he…guess I needed to prove to myself I could survive on my own, even if the circumstances aren’t ideal.”
“I get it. It’s one of the reasons I decided to move here from Chicago. I love my family, and we’re very close, but…”
“But?” he murmured.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful.”
“Don’t hold back on my account. Everything is relative.”
“True, I suppose.” I huffed out a laugh. “My parents can be overbearing and overinvolved in my life. But I know they mean well and only want the best for me.”
“I know what you mean. My mom would be the same. Bet they would’ve gotten along great.”
This time I cracked open an eye, and it was definitely worth it to see the smile on his face.
“Do you ever miss…your former life?”
“Some parts, maybe.” When he lifted the scissors, I shut my eyes. “But I’m not the same person anymore. I haven’t been for a long time. I let someone else rule my life all in the name of love. But at least now I’m in charge of my own damned self. It’s up to me to take agency of my life again.”