Making Me Sane (Sanity Book 2) (10 page)

“It won’t take long to get you home,” I say softly.

“Thanks for making me come.”

I smile at how she worded it. “Any time. Think you’ll want to go out with me again?”

“Eventually. Maybe. Don’t push it.”

I laugh, the words leaving my mouth before I can stop them. “I love you, Britt.” I don’t even have to look to know she tenses. I hate, hate, hate her reaction. The night was going so well and in one breath, I’ve tainted it. And that
is
my fault. It’s hard to know when to hold back and when to push and be honest with her.

When we get to her apartment complex, I park. Before I can get out of the car, she rushes to say, “You don’t have to walk me up.”

“Okay.”

She glances at me with a sad smile. “Thanks.”

Leaning over the console, I gently kiss her cheek. “Good night, Brittany.”

“Night, Trace,” she mutters before making a break for it.

“W
anna go out with me for lunch?”

I turn my head away from my computer and over to where my co-worker, Melissa, is leaning against my desk. She’s a legit work friend. We share some personal things about our lives in order to vent, but we don’t know each other’s deepest darkest secrets either. We both started working around the same time, which is what helped us bond. I rarely turn down a lunch invite.

“Sure. Let me wrap up this email,” I answer.

“Great. I’ll grab my things and come back.”

By the time she does just that, I’ve sent my email and have gathered my purse. We mostly talk about work on the way to our favorite Mexican restaurant. After placing our drink orders, Melissa folds her arms over her chest and tilts her head.

“Something is off with you. What’s going on?”

I shrug. “Nothing.”

“Something with Quinn?” she guesses, not letting the issue go. She has a bad habit of that.

“He broke up with me not too long ago, so no, but um.” I take a deep breath. “My ex-boyfriend who broke up with me last year wants to get back together again.”

“Oh.” Her eyes widen. “Well, are you going to?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ve agreed that he can take me out on dates, but we and our past are complicated. Not to mention the fact that I don’t know if I can forgive him for hurting me before. We really don’t need to talk about it more.” Melissa doesn’t know about my anxiety or depression, and I’d rather not discuss it over lunch, or at all for that matter.

“Are you sure? You know I’m a good wall to bounce things off of.”

I smile. “I know. Thank you for offering. How are things with your love life?”

She groans. “It really shouldn’t be this hard to find a man.”

“What happened to the guy from two weeks ago?”

“He was a dud. I’m sorry, but my standards are higher than a fast food restaurant where he wanted to order off the dollar menu.” I laugh and she playfully glares at me for doing so. But then her eyes widen and she leans in. “Like, why can’t I land a hunk like him?”

I glance over my shoulder to see that the hunk of a man she’s talking about is Trace. My shoulders sag and I quickly turn around before he can see me. “That’s my ex-boyfriend, Trace,” I whisper.

“What? Seriously? You’re fighting
that
? If he came crawling back to me, I’d be crawling up him. He’s like a tree trunk, he’s so tall and wide.”

The only thing I can do is laugh.

“Uh-oh,” she mutters just before I hear, “Brittany?”

I look up to see Trace standing next to me. “Hey,” I breathe. God, he looks gorgeous. Of course he does!

“I saw you and I just wanted to say hi.”

“Hi.”

He grins. “Who’s your friend?”

“I’m Melissa, a co-worker of Brittany’s. Do you have a brother or cousin or friend who looks like you?”

Trace laughs. “I’m an only child and my family lives in Texas. My closest friend is four hours away and he’s married.”

“Damn it. Are you sure you want this ol’ hag back?” She motions to me.

“Melissa!” She can’t be serious!

“I’m joking!” she quickly reassures, while Trace laughs.

“I only wanted to say hello. I’ll leave you two alone.” Trace looks down at me and for a moment, I panic. Is he going to kiss me? Hug me? Simply say goodbye? I hold my breath as he leans down, pressing a simple kiss to my forehead. My eyes flutter close at the light contact. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Bye,” I whisper.

He says goodbye to Melissa and then sits down at a table with some guy I don’t recognize.

“You’re still in love with him,” Melissa says, bringing my attention back to her. I roll my eyes, but she keeps talking. “He kissed your forehead, Brittany. Your
forehead
, which I get can be sweet, but you looked as if he just told you he loved you and wanted to be with you forever. That little kiss, and you looked swept away in Trace’s world. What did he do that’s so unforgivable?”

“It’s complicated. Let’s pay our bill and get back to work.”

Melissa finally gets the hint that I don’t want to talk about it. She probably thinks I’m overreacting, which I kinda am, but that’s besides the point. We finish up the last of our meal while waiting for the waitress to bring our bill and then we pay. My eyes keep sliding over to Trace. He doesn’t look our way once. Maybe he’s trying to give me space.

He’s done a good job of giving me some distance, except for moments like on our last date when he blurted out that he loved me. One minute I’m fine and I can almost believe that we are right and should be together. Then, I’ll remember what happened. I’ll remember the hurt and anger, how I don’t trust him, and how I don’t even know if I can forgive him. I’m starting to feel like I’m crazier than I originally thought with all this back and forth whiplash of emotions.

That’s something that bothers me a lot. It’s driving me mad that I can’t figure out one way or the other what I want where Trace is concerned. Thinking about it is exhausting on top of everything else. As I’m leaving work for the day, I get a text from Trace.

Trace:
Hope I wasn’t intruding today.

Me:
You weren’t.

Trace:
Want to go out for dinner?

Me:
I have other plans.

I set my phone down and focus on driving home. My plans include watching the final hockey game of the season. I obsess over what Trace’s response will be, wondering why I care so much. Pushing it off, I don’t bother checking when I park my car at the complex. Hopefully, I’ll be able to stay awake during the game; I’m already sleepy.

There’s a piece of paper taped to my door, and I gently tear it off. Once I’m settled on the couch, I read Trace’s text first.

Trace: Okay.
Have fun.

Of course he’s not going to push the issue. What happened to fighting for me? Seems to me like he’s going with the flow more than fighting to get me back. Whatever. I finally read the paper from my door.

Damn it!

It’s a notice from my landlord. Rent rates are going up two hundred dollars as leases are renewed. Mine is supposed to be renewed at the end of the month. How can he change the rate that much? How is my apartment going to essentially be worth more next month than today? I don’t know if I can swing that.

Money is a constant worry as it is. There’s so much to pay for. Bills are ridiculous, and with this happening, either I need to start a strict budget or find a new place to live. It’s not like I’m going to get a raise to match the rise in my expenses. This is all I need. One more thing to add to the already heavy weight on my shoulders.

What would be really nice is to watch the game with Lily. I grab my phone.

Me:
Can I come over?

Trace:
Sure.

Just like that. No hesitation. No questions. A few minutes later, I knock on Trace’s door.

“I thought you had plans?” he says as he steps aside for me to come in.

“I do. I’m just going to do them here.”

“Have you eaten?”

“Not hungry. Hey, Lily!” I crouch to pet her, squeezing my eyes closed as she sniffs my face, scared she’ll lick me even though she never has before.

“Is that why you’re here?”

“Yep.” No need to lie about it. “Come on, Lily. We have a hockey game to watch.”

“I need to finish dinner,” Trace tells me. I nod and he leaves for the kitchen. His remote is on the armrest of his recliner. Did he have a bad day? Or is that where he placed it when he came home or on his way into the kitchen?

I turn it to the correct channel, settle in on the couch, and start petting Lily as she sits next to me. The night would be perfect if I was at home with her, but no pets are allowed in my apartment, unfortunately.

“Sure you don’t want anything?” he hollers.

“I’m fine!”

Seconds later, he sits in his recliner with a plate full of food. “So, you watch hockey now?”

“Yeah. It’s a good distraction.”

He eats while I watch the beginning of the game. I stretch out on the couch and Lily stretches out in front of me. Trace chuckles. “Y’all are ridiculous.”

“Don’t be jealous that she gets to cuddle with me and you don’t.”

“I can’t help it,” he laughs.

My phone rings and it’s my mom. I haven’t talked to her in a few days, but it’s time that I do. “Hey, Mom,” I answer, ignoring that Trace is subtly paying attention.

“Brittany!”

“Dad? Why are you calling from Mom’s phone?”

“She’s in the hospital; we just got here. I think she’s had a heart attack, but they’re running tests right now.”

“What?” I breathe, sitting up. “Is she okay? What happened? I’m coming home, okay? Call me if anything changes.”

“There’s no need—”

“Yes, there is!” I shout. Guilt rams into me. I’ve been ignoring her calls ever since Trace showed up at my house when I had been drinking, and now, she’s had a heart attack! “I’m coming!”

“Okay, okay. Be careful. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

I stare at my phone, tears falling down my cheeks. What if she’s not okay? What if I never get to talk to her again? What if she dies? A ragged inhale starts my chest heaving until I’m hyperventilating.

“Britt, what’s wrong?” Trace is suddenly in front of me, hands cupping my face.

Focusing on his hazel eyes, I do my best to calm my breathing. “Mom.” Breathe. “Hospital.” Breathe. “Heart attack.” A sob breaks me down. “I’m so stupid. I’ve talked to you, even went out on a fucking date, and I was ignoring her calls still. God, I gotta go home.”

“You’re in no condition to drive,” he starts as I stand and move around him.

“Too bad! I have to see her!”

He grabs my wrist and pulls me back to him. “You’re crying and having a panic attack. You don’t need to drive. Let me drive you.”

“Then, come on!” I don’t care how I get there, as long as I get there.

Impatiently, I wait for Trace to let Lily out and then he grabs his keys and we’re on our way. Country music is playing softly in the background. Ten minutes into the drive, Trace reaches for my hand.

“She’ll be okay,” he whispers.

Except she might not be. Dad sounded really worried. He didn’t even sound that scared when I was in the loony bin. “What if she’s not?” I voice my worse fear.

“One minute at a time,” he replies. “Try to relax. It’s going to be a long drive, and Ray will call if anything happens.”

“It’s my mom! What if I lose her? You—” I abruptly stop.

“What?” There’s a hard edge in his voice. “I don’t know what it’s like to lose my mom? You haven’t lost yours, Britt.” I can’t help but hear a silent
yet
. He clears his throat. “Your call said she’s alive and in the hospital. My call was that she was dead. Be grateful for that.”

“I’m sorry.”

His voice softens. “Me too. Your mom will be fine; she seems like a fighter.”

“Was yours?” I tentatively ask.

His hand tightens on the steering wheel. “She did the best she could.”

I decide to drop the subject, pulling my hand away from Trace’s to squeeze my wrist.

Please, be okay, Mom
.