Making Me Sane (Sanity Book 2) (31 page)

Usually, evenings are the worst time of day for me, but sometimes, I wake up and it’s already the worst time of day. This is one of those instances. There are two options. See how I feel throughout the day to see if I complete my tasks. Or, suffer through it. I wonder how pissed Brittany would be if I canceled on her tonight. She could take Melissa. Not to mention that it would be a good thing to send her away for a bit.

Lily lifts her head to look at me. “Go on outside,” I tell her. Sometimes, when we don’t immediately get out of bed, it’s like she feels as if she needs permission to leave the room and go outside. She stands and jumps off the bed. That little bit of jostling wakes Brittany up. She rolls to face me, her eyes open and a smile on her face.

“Mornin’.”

“Mornin’. Does Melissa like the Zac Brown Band?” I ask.

Her smile turns into a quick frown. “Why? You don’t want to go?”

“It’s already a bad day, Britt. There’s a lot to do around the house, too.”

“You don’t want to wait and see how you feel later?”

I think about all I want to do and what it’ll mean to have her leave me behind and go with Melissa. “Just see if she wants to go.”

“Okay.” She gets out of bed, grabs her phone, and walks out of the room without another word or glance.

I hate that she’s so disappointed, but I can deal with that in the long run. I don’t know why I didn’t think about bailing sooner. It took me waking up, feeling like shit, to make the suggestion. Which, I’m not sure she would’ve accepted any other excuse either.

With a deep breath, I get out of bed and head to the bathroom. Shortly after, I find Brittany eating a bowl of cereal in front of the TV while the news is on.

“Melissa is going with me,” she says over her shoulder in a flat tone. Ah, I’ve pissed her off. That’s okay. Once I’ve fixed my own bowl of cereal and have joined her, she adds, “I’m going to shower and head on over. She wants to go shopping. Is there anything you want me to do around the house before I leave?”

“No, that’s okay.” Either I’ll get to it all today or tomorrow. Plus, I don’t want to push it when I’ve already pissed her off.

She gets up as soon as she’s done eating and heads for the shower. I decide I’m going to suffer through how I feel. Life doesn’t stop for bad days. As long as it sticks to one day, I’m not going to complain about it. With everything I’m juggling, especially that of which Brittany doesn’t know about, I don’t need to add more to my plate.

I do feel somewhat guilty, but I’m reminding myself to look at the bigger picture. That’s what I tell myself when I sort of lie to her the next day about hanging out with Ben. When I tell her I’m working late, but I’m not. When I tell her I’m too busy to meet for lunch. Hopefully, she won’t think too much of it. I’m still taking her out, concert aside, and I’m still doing everything else like I should.

That’s what’s important, right?

R
ebecca’s words did not get to me.

I swear, they didn’t. Or maybe I’m lying to myself. But my anxiety has slowly been racking up, growing with each time Trace either cancels on me, tells me he’s too busy with work, or comes home late. I don’t know what, but
something
is going on. Not knowing what it is is starting to freak me out. I was pissed when Trace bailed on the concert. More because an event like that brings out some of my anxiety and it was a present he gave me that I was expecting to experience with him. But he didn’t seem bothered that I was mad.

That’s what got to me.

Not to mention he managed to get all the chores done. He did all those things when he probably didn’t want to, but he couldn’t go to the concert with me?

I haven’t said a word about any of it, though. I feel like a broken record when I tell Mrs. Potter what’s happening, but reiterate that I trust him. I still don’t think he’s cheating, but the man is doing something he doesn’t want me to know about and that worries me. What if he’s somehow fallen into his old habits? What if something serious has happened that he doesn’t want to tell me about? What if he’s doing something he shouldn’t?

Whatever it is, I don’t like it for the simple fact that he’s keeping something from me. He’s being sneaky for some reason. It’s making my anxiety go haywire. Either he’s truly sleeping through it, or he’s ignoring me when I get up in the morning to vomit. That’s how bad it’s gotten. I’m kinda glad he’s not waking up with me. I don’t want to have to answer his question about what might be causing it. I don’t want to lie about it.

It’s been two weeks and I fear I’m going to need an increase in dosage if he keeps on. I just hope whatever it is isn’t going to burn me. Not after I’ve worked through my trust issues and have become the happiest I’ve ever been. I’ll kill him if he’s up to something that could hurt me. But even if it’s not, I need to know what it is. I don’t like this. Not one bit. On top of all of that, I haven’t felt great. I’m not sure what it is, but something feels off.

Trace is running late again. I mean, so late that I’ve cooked dinner because I was hungry, damn it. I don’t believe his excuse that he’s working. He’s a therapist at an office with set work hours. Bull. Shit. I can’t sit in this house anymore.

“Want to go walk, Lily? Trace obviously isn’t going to go with us today.”

The dog perks up and runs for her leash. It rained earlier today, so it’s humid and sticky. Who cares? I’m going for a walk. These walks lately have been just Lily and me. It’s been a relief while also a source of frustration. I have too much time to think about what’s going on. Needing to talk to someone, I call my mom.

“Oh, my daughter must have something to rant about if she’s calling me before I can call her.”

I laugh. “You know me so well.”

“Yes, I do. What’s going on?”

“Trace is up to something,” I blurt out. “He’s supposedly working late, he’s working through his lunches, and we haven’t gone out but once since he bailed on me when we were supposed to go to the concert. It’s stressing me out.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”

“I don’t believe that,” I quickly reply. “Otherwise, he wouldn’t be sneaky. It feels like he’s keeping something from me.”

“Have you asked him about it?”

“No, because he should be the one telling me! I shouldn’t have to ask. If he doesn’t want me to know, he’s just going to lie anyway. I’d rather not ask than to ask and he give me a bullshit answer.”

“Do you think he would do that?”

“Maybe. All I know is whatever he’s doing is giving me serious anxiety. I’m nauseous all the time and I’m throwing up every morning. If I have to up my meds because of whatever he’s up to, I’m going to be even more pissed than I already am. And do you know what’s messed up? I feel bad for being pissed, but he shouldn’t be keeping anything from me. I thought he would’ve known better considering what happened before.”

“What does your therapist say?”

“She wants me to confront him, but she thinks he’s cheating on me. Freaking Rebecca.”

“What are you talking about?”

Right. I never told her about that. “A while back, I met Rebecca for lunch and she said she saw Trace out to lunch with some woman. It got kinda nasty and I left. I didn’t believe her then and I don’t now. Doesn’t mean that the stupid thought hasn’t run through my head, but he’s being sneaky, Mom! Something is going on and I need to know what it is. I need him to tell me.”

Mom is quiet for a bit. “I don’t know what to tell you since you don’t want to bring it up to him.”

I sigh. Well, she’s no help.

“Brittany, I’ve got another call coming in. Let me take it and I can call you back.”

“No, that’s okay. Love you.”

“Love you too. Everything will be fine, I bet.”

“Hope so.”

We hang up and Lily and I turn around to head home. Trace is on the phone, pulling into the driveway when we’re almost to the door. I keep walking. I want a bath. Trace gets off work at five o’clock. He should’ve been home around 5:30, six at the latest. It’s eight o’clock. If he tells me he’s been at work, I’m going to scream. I’m better off going to take my bath and not giving him a chance to talk to me just yet.

I’m settled into my bath when the doorknob jiggles. “Britt?”

Yes, I locked the door. “What?” I ask.

“Everything okay?”

No.
“I didn’t have a good day, so I wanted to relax. Do you need something?”

“No. I just wanted to see you.”

“I’ll be out later.”

Silence.

“Okay. Enjoy your bath.”

I sink further into the water. Tears fall from the corners of my eyes. My biggest fear is that I ask him what’s going on and he questions my trust in him. But this is getting out of control. I count while I breathe, hoping that helps calm me down. Slowly inhale, hold for three, and slowly exhale. Repeat until I feel better.

“Britt.”

I startle awake to find Trace squatting next to the tub. He must’ve taken the doorknob off again.

“You okay?”

“Yeah. I must’ve been more tired than I thought, I guess.” I shiver from the now-cold water. Trace pulls a towel off the towel rack, standing as I do and wraps it around me when I step out. “Are you okay?” I ask, noticing he looks a bit stressed. His hair is out of sorts. He got a haircut today, I realize.

“I don’t like having to remove the doorknob to come find you in here.” He wraps his arms around me, tugging me against him. “You didn’t have to lock the door.”

“I wanted some time to myself.”

“Still didn’t have to lock the door. Want to watch a movie with me before we go to bed?”

I shake my head. “I’m tired, so I think I’m going to go early.”

Trace places a finger under my chin to lift my head, so I’m looking at him. “Do you feel bad?”

“Kinda.”

He rests the back of his hand against my forehead and then my cheeks. “You don’t feel warm.”

“I don’t think I have a fever,” I agree.

“Want anything before you go to bed?”

“Will you grab me something to drink and come to bed with me?” Despite all that’s going on, Trace is pretty normal behaving when he’s home. That’s what I want. Normal. I want Trace to hold me in his arms while I fall asleep.

“Yeah. I’ll do that.” He kisses my forehead before walking away.

I get ready for bed and am thankful to see he brought me a glass of water. I drink some of it while he changes and take my pills. We climb into bed. Trace pulls me against him, and I take a deep breath. This is my boyfriend. He rubs my back in those long soothing motions. Soon, I’m asleep once more.

I swear I wake up every time I turn in my sleep. It feels like all I’ve done is toss and turn. Sick of it, I get out of bed. Good news is it’s only an hour before I normally wake up. Bad news is I’m freaking tired and feel sick. Again.

Just as I make it to the bathroom, my stomach is super queasy and vomit is pushing its way up my throat. I’ll be happy when this isn’t part of my anxiety. I never want to throw up again.

“Britt? Damn, you okay?” he asks as he pulls my hair away from my face.

“No, I’m not okay,” I snap. This is all his fault.

“You might’ve caught a bug. Maybe you should go to the doctor.”