“And thought we should stop by,” Keats declared.
“Was I not clear that I wanted to be alone today?” she asked, knowing it sounded bitchy but unable to wrangle in her emotions. She didn’t want them to see her like this. Fractured. Weak. And the only way she knew to hide that was by lifting up the don’t-fuck-with-me drawbridge until she got herself back together.
“What’s going on, Georgia?” Colby asked, concern lacing his tone.
The house phone rang behind her and she startled, complete with a little yelp.
“Shit.” She put her shaking hand to the door frame. “Sorry.”
Keats frowned and reached out to touch her elbow. “Hey, you okay? Want me to get that?”
She shook her head, embarrassed. “No, it’s fine, just let it go to voice mail.”
Colby stepped forward but honored the invisible barrier of her doorway. “Tell us what’s going on, Georgia. Maybe we can help. Are you sick? Did something happen? You look spooked.”
“It’s nothing. I just . . . I had a nightmare, old memories, and sometimes that throws me off for the day. I’ll be fine. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.”
“Or maybe you can not be alone today,” Keats said, a mule digging in its heels. “The last thing you need after a nightmare is sitting by yourself to stew in it all day.”
“Keats—” she warned.
“No, he’s right. Sometimes distraction is the best medicine,” Colby said. “We could help with that, you know. We’ll even wrestle in the yard for you.” He peeked over his shoulder. “Where do you keep your sprinklers again?”
She stared a
t him for a moment, the joke not registering in her tweaked-out brain, but then she let out a breath and smiled. “Right. Wrestling. So I guess you two guys worked things out, then?”
Keats’s gaze slid toward Colby, the look telling her everything. “You could say that.”
“Good. I’m really happy for you both.” The knowledge buoyed her spirits a little, but it also made her feel intensely other all of a sudden. Here these two guys were in the midst of that excitement at the start of a new relationship and she could barely get one foot in front of the other today. She’d been delusional to think she was ready for anything with either of these two. She wasn’t in a stable enough state to inhabit that sunshiny space blooming between Keats and Colby. They didn’t need her baggage and dark clouds pressing down on them. They’d be fine on their own.
“Can’t we keep you company today?” Keats asked.
She blew out a breath and reached for their hands. They each took one of hers, Colby frowning deeper when he saw her bandaged one. “I appreciate the offer, really. You two are amazing. But I think you should spend the day with each other. I’m . . . I’m a disaster.”
When Keats opened his mouth to refute her, she shook her head and squeezed his hand.
“I can fake that I’m not sometimes, but then I get hit with a day like this, and get a big fat reminder. I’m not—I can’t . . . do this. With either of you.” She looked to Colby, her heart breaking a little. “I think I should’ve stuck to watching. And Keats, any work I need done you can do remotely from Colby’s. I don’t need to bring the crazy into your lives, too.”
“No, I know what crazy looks like,” Colby replied, his gaze holding hers. “You’re not crazy. You’re scared and going through something. But whatever it is, I guarantee that the only way out of it is forward. Don’t close the door and get stuck again. Please. Don’t shut us out.”
She let their hands drop from hers, tears burning her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Give us one chance,” Colby said, bracing his hand on the door frame. “Give us today. Remember what happened when you let me take over, when you trusted me to take care of you? Let’s try that again. Turn your day over to me and if by the end of it, you still want to be alone, we won’t knock on your door again.”
She looked down, her emotions rioting through her—the urge to run, the urge to say yes, the fear of what could happen if she did, and if she didn’t. “Colby—”
“It’s just one day, George,” Keats said softly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
She shook her head. “I could completely lose it in front of you, embarrass myself, possibly inspire you to check me into a mental institution.”
Colby reached out for her hand again, taking her hurt one between both of his. “I swear no men in white coats will be called no matter what happens today. As for the other two things, so the fuck what? Lose it and we’ll help you get it back together like we did the day with the ants. You’re dealing with a disorder. There’s no embarrassment in that. All I see is a brave woman fighting tooth and nail to get free of it.”
“I can’t get free,” she said, tears escaping now. “Not until he’s locked up. Every time I think I’m making progress, I’m knocked backward again. The past never goes away. It doesn’t matter that he’s hundreds of miles away. He’s in my goddamned head.”
“Who?” Keats asked, not bothering with boundaries and stepping forward to put his arm around her. “Who’s in your head, George?”
The embrace undid her, shattering the barrier she was frantically trying to hold in place, and she couldn’t do anything but sag into him. The brave face. The grip on her secrets. All of it faltered in the warmth of the simple hug. All the energy was used up. Tears turned into sobbing.