Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
“You always have a choice.”
“But some of those choices—even if made only for yourself—can affect others. So if you care about others, you might only have one. But in the end, is only having one choice really a choice at all?”
My heart skipped a beat. Did Rett know somehow?
He couldn’t. He knew Thomas had died, but not how or why.
I suggested, “Why don’t you go let him in?”
“Because I don’t want to leave you alone.”
“I’m fine,” I lied.
“You’re far from fine.”
He could leave me alone and go let his dog in, but he felt he had no choice.
He proved himself right.
Again.
CHAPTER 18
Rett
I didn’t want to leave him alone. Even for the few seconds it would take to open the door and let Timber inside. Nevertheless, I had faith my dog could help pull Chase from his funk.
Something had driven the man to throw his wedding band into the lake. I feared that reason was me and what we did last night. The guilt had to be weighing heavily on him even though, in reality, he had nothing to feel guilty about.
But seeing him thrashing around at the bottom of that cold lake and then fighting me when I tried to pull him out…
It proved his reality was coated in anger, depression and guilt. If he didn’t pull free of that, I doubted he’d survive.
My guess was he had kept himself as numb as possible since losing his husband to prevent going under forever and last night that changed when he was forced to confront his feelings.
Apparently, that confrontation had been unbearable.
I might not be a mental health professional but I’d done a lot of research when it came to the human mind and how we reacted to certain events, like death. All due to being an author and writing mysteries. Accuracy when it came to the reactions of characters was important to me.
After reading every C.J. Anson book he’d ever written, I knew it was just as important to him.
But he was too close to see it when it came to himself.
Once we had dry towels wrapped around our waists, I made him accompany me outside to wring out our sopping wet clothes and toss them over the rocking chairs and railing to dry, as well as let my whining and pacing dog into the cabin.
German Shepherds tended to dial in to their owner’s emotions and today was no exception. Timber restlessly paced between me and Chase, constantly checking on us both.
I watched closely when Chase ran his fingers along Timber’s silky back and then dug his fingers into the dog’s thick scruff like he was holding on for dear life. Those actions made it clear that he still warred with his emotions. And might for a while yet.
I needed patience and understanding. Luckily for Chase, I had plenty of both.
Once I brewed a pot of coffee and handed him a steaming mug, I leaned back against the small counter in his kitchenette. I studied him over the rim of the ceramic mug as he stood at the window looking out toward the lake.
Where he’d “lost” his wedding band.
I was sure if I left, he’d go right back into that water. Most likely to never come back out.
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I allowed that to happen. That meant I was going nowhere until I knew he was stable enough to be left alone. However, I could no longer stay silent. “Chase… Tomorrow will always come, with or without you. As you know, you giving up won’t affect you the same as it would the people you leave behind.”
Even though he hadn’t told me how Thomas died, I had a good guess.
“I don’t have anyone left,” he mumbled.
“You have family. You have fans who love you even though they might not have ever met you. And… You have me.”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion or your help.”
“Maybe not.”
“No maybes about it.”
“Let’s get this straight… I don’t care if you don’t want my help. Or even my opinion. I’m going to give it to you anyway. And you know what you’re going to do? You’re going to fucking accept it. Remember that whole conversation about choice we had in the bathroom? In this instance, I’m only giving you one choice… to accept my help. Of course, to you that may feel like no choice at all.”
He turned, shooting a glare in my direction while squeezing the steaming mug so tightly his knuckles paled. “I’m not sure who the fuck you think you are to come barreling into my life like this—”
“You know who I am and I know what you’re going through.”
“You don’t.”
“I lost my brother—”
“I lost my fucking husband. It’s not the same.”
“It’s not exactly the same, no, but we both lost someone we loved. Someone who was a part of us. It’s similar enough that I can still understand what you’re going through.”