I roll over with my back to them both.
Trace’s hand rests on my shoulder, but he doesn’t try to turn me toward him. “Britt,” he says softly. “Come home with me.”
I shrug my shoulder to dislodge his hand. I don’t want to go anywhere. I don’t want to talk to anyone. I want to be left alone. Why the hell can’t they do that? What makes him think I want to go to his house, especially after he pushed me away and only eventually texted me because he wanted me to come over to comfort him? I wish I could feel mad or lonely or something. There’s still numbness.
“Can you give us a minute?” Trace says to Rebecca.
“Sure thing.”
A moment later, the door closes behind her. The bed dips as Trace lies down, wrapping his arms around me and pulling me tight against his body.
“What happened?”
“Nothing. I woke up like this yesterday.”
His breathing hits my hair, disturbing it slightly, and I want to pull away from him.
“Come home with me,” he repeats.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t feel like going anywhere,” I say, this time pulling away from him.
He tugs me right back where he wants me, though. “It might make you feel better.”
“Doubt it.”
Trace sighs. “Come anyway.” My silence answers him. “Lily misses you.” Yay. The dog misses me. “I miss you,” he whispers. I still don’t say anything. His words practically bounce off me, having zero effect. “What will it take for you to come home with me, Britt? You want me to pack your bags? You want me to carry you out of here so you don’t have to walk? What do you want me to do? I want you to come with me.” Desperation leaks into his voice and it cracks me open just enough for me to agree.
He presses a kiss to my shoulder and gets out of my bed. He opens the door for Rebecca to come back in. I sit up and watch as he and Rebecca start to pack a bag for me. Faintly, I wonder whose idea it was for Trace to come up here and whisk me away.
Once he’s packed everything, he hands me some clothes to change into since I’m still in pajamas. I change, take his outstretched hand, and he leads me out of the building. I don’t feel good, and I mean that in a physically sick kind of way. The rest is a blur until Lily is walking circles around me, wagging her tail like crazy. I drop to my knees and hug her neck. Okay, so it looks like I missed the dog too.
“Are you going to sit on the floor and love on Lily or come watch an episode of Dateline that I missed and love on me?”
I glance up at the sound of Trace’s voice. He’s walking toward the couch and I think he has two cans of Sun Drop in his hands. Of course, I get up to follow after him. I take the Sun Drop, suddenly feeling really thirsty. I pop the top and start guzzling it down, as my stomach growls.
“Have you eaten today?” Trace asks. “Or drank anything?” he adds as he watches me finish off the can of soda.
“No.” I curl into his side. This time, I’m glad to have his body next to me.
“Want me to order pizza?”
I shrug. Trace pulls out his phone and opens an app to place the order. Lily jumps onto the couch, sitting next to me and resting her head on my lap. I scratch behind her ears, wishing I could sleep. How can I be so tired, but not sleepy?
“Hey.” Trace hooks a finger under my chin and lifts so I’ll look at him. He doesn’t say anything. He just studies me for a moment. “Did you get any sleep last night or today?”
“Not really.” He looks tired, too.
“Talk to me.”
“About what?”
“How you’re doing.”
I roll my eyes and look away. “How does it look like I’m doing, Trace? Can we not talk? Please?”
“Sure, okay.”
I lean into him again, getting comfortable. Trace changes the channel to his recording of the show. He holds me close. I don’t pay much attention to the show. Instead, I focus on Trace’s breathing, the fast and steady beat of his heart, and his sturdy body. I feel just a little better by the time he has to pause the show because the pizza has arrived.
“I’m not really hungry,” I say once he returns with the box, disappointed in myself.
He turns the box so it faces me, opens it, and moves it in circles under my face. “You can resist pizza that smells this good?” A corner of his mouth quirks up into a crooked smile. “Would it be more tempting if I cut it up into pieces and tossed them for you to try to catch it in your mouth?”
I laugh. “No, it wouldn’t.” I reach out to snag a slice, Trace’s smile turning into a full-blown grin.
“I’ve missed that laugh.”
Trace sits down again next to me. I decide to change the subject because I still don’t want to talk about myself. We might as well turn the tables.
“Did you ever call your dad back?”
His smile fades. “No, not yet.”
God, I hate myself. I shouldn’t have asked. I knew how it would make him feel. Is it really worth it just so it’ll take the focus off of me? Without ever having taken a bite of my pizza, I set it back in the box, which is now on the coffee table. That overwhelming feeling rushes over me again. I’m supposed to be normal. I’m supposed to be a good girlfriend. I’m supposed to eat and take care of myself. I’m supposed to be all these things and I can’t fucking do it! I can’t. I can’t. I can’t!
Tears start spilling down my cheeks. “I’m sorry,” I whisper. Trace starts to say something, but I can’t sit here next to him anymore. I get up and rush to his bathroom, locking the door behind me. I turn on the shower, hurriedly remove my clothes, and step into the tub. Standing seems to take too much effort. I sit under the onslaught of water raining down, pull my knees up to my chest, wrap my arms around them, and start crying hard.
Three knocks sound on the door. “Brittany?”
My chest heaves, breathing becoming too much of a task for me. My sobs leave me gasping for air. It’s too much. I can’t. It’s all too much. The weight of this insurmountable sadness and nothingness all combined together is too much.
I lift my head when the shower curtain is shoved to the side. The look on Trace’s face is one I haven’t seen before.
“I can’t. I can’t,” I repeat, shaking my head. Although, I don’t know just what it is that I can’t do.
He steps into the shower to sit on the edge of the tub. “I know, Britt,” he says gently. He pulls me up into his lap. I bury my face into the crook of his neck, the tears falling faster now. I’m grateful that he’s here, but at the same time, I hate it. I hate that he’s seeing me like this. I hate that I feel so vulnerable. We lean one way and then I hear the sound of the water being turned off before a towel is wrapped around me.
Trace rubs my back. “All I want,” he begins in possibly the softest tone I’ve ever heard him use, “is for you to survive. Continue to breathe and do the basics to survive. That’s all I want right now. You can do that.” He runs his fingers through my hair, tilting my head back in the process so I can look at him. “It probably doesn’t feel like it, but you are strong; one of the strongest people I know. Survive now, so you can live later.”
“I’m tired of fighting for such little return.”
“It’s that way for now, Brittany. Gotta remember that. Want to know something?”
“What?” I ask to appease him.
“The only reason I got out of bed yesterday and today is because of you. Maybe I didn’t feel like talking, but I knew you were still there for me. You’ve given me strength when I’m running out. I depend on you too much. I’m right here,” he says quietly. “Depend on me too much.” I shake my head and frown, more tears falling at what he’s said. “Why is that upsetting you?”
“That’s not a good thing, Trace.”
“What? Why?”
“That’s what Mrs. Potter told me.”
He frowns. “Mrs. Potter? Your new therapist?”
I nod.
“Well, I disagree with her.
So, here’s what we’re doing. You’re going to put your pajamas on. I’m bringing the pizza to my bed. We’re going to eat, take our pills, and go to sleep. I’m going to make you feel better than when you got here. Got it?”
All I can do is nod. But then, I realize I actually do need a shower. “I’m going to finish my shower, though.”
“Okay. Do that. I’ll bring your bag in here, so you’ll have your clothes.” Trace kisses my forehead, pushes me to stand, and then does the same. I watch him leave the bathroom, wondering what in the hell just happened.
***
While Brittany showers, I put the doorknob back on the door. When she didn’t answer, I went and found a screwdriver to take it off. I was concerned when she wasn’t answering my texts, which is what led me to call Rebecca and go to their room with her. All I’ve wanted since last night was Brittany. This version of her definitely wasn’t the one I wanted, but any version will work.
I let Lily out, put Brittany’s bag in the bathroom, and bring the pizza and our drinks into my bedroom. I feel a little better than I have been, so I’m hoping it’s the start of an upswing. Now, to get Brittany there too. I change my clothes and am sitting in bed with Lily at my feet when Brittany comes out of the bathroom. She walks over, climbs into bed, and snuggles up to me.
“How have you been doing?” she asks.
“Not too bad.” I move the pizza box to my lap and pop it open. “Dig in.”
She’s slow to pick up a slice, but she does anyway, sitting up so she can eat. I grab a slice for myself and we eat in silence. Even though I know she has to be hungry, she still surprises me when she reaches for her second and then third slice. She’s done after that, though.
I set the box on the nightstand and pull her closer to me. She seems content with being quiet, but we can’t be just yet. “I’m sorry,” I say softly, rubbing her back, the up and down motion soothing us both.
“For what?”
Apologizing is hard enough, but explaining yourself might be even harder. An apology is what it is. An explanation must be told in a clear way as to not cause more confusion or make matters worse. On top of that, it is judged and might not be as easily accepted as an apology alone can be. I take a deep breath and get on with it.
“For Sunday when I told you not to come back. It was going to be a bad day for me and I didn’t want you to be around me like that. I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”
She mutters under her breath, but I can’t make out what she said.
“What?”
She props herself up on one arm and looks at me. “You’re always pushing me away for whatever stupid reason you come up with. You shouldn’t get to make that decision for me, especially when I apparently have no choice when the situation is reversed. What’s your excuse for yesterday when you didn’t text me until you wanted me to come over? Apology not accepted, Trace.”
I cup her face in my hands, feeling more guilt than I did before. “I told you this was an adjustment for me,” I start, but she interrupts me.
“It’s been nearly four months!” Tears well in her eyes again. Her voice is softer as she says, “I need you too much for you to make dumb decisions that affect us both.”
“I know it was; that’s why I texted you yesterday and came to find you today. I won’t do it again, I promise.”
She nods just as my phone rings from its place on the nightstand. I pick it up and frown when I see it’s coming from the university.
“Hello?” I answer.
“Mr. Lexington, it’s Mr. Hanifin. We’ve had an important, urgent issue arise, and I need you to come back in.”
My blood runs cold. What the hell? “Uh, okay. Could you tell me what’s happened?”
“I think it’s best if we wait to discuss it until you’re here.”
“Okay. I can be there shortly.”
“Great. Come straight to my office.”
“Yes, sir.”
He hangs up, and I stare at my phone for a moment. This can’t be good. What boss calls you after hours to tell you that you must return to work?
“I gotta go,” I mutter as I get out of bed.
“Why? Who was that?”
“My boss; he said something important and urgent has come up and I have to go see him.”
Brittany pales, watching me change into the clothes I wore to work today. “Do you think,” she starts, struggling to say what’s on both of our minds. Is it because I was sneaking into her dorm?
“I don’t know. He wouldn’t say.”
“Do you want me to stay here and wait for you?”
“Yeah. Stay. I might need you when I get back.”
She nods. I walk to where she is, lean over, and give her a quick kiss. “It’ll be okay,” she tells me.
“We’ll see.”
With that, I leave for campus. My stomach is in knots, my leg is bouncing, and I force myself to grip the steering wheel with two hands to keep from using one to grip my neck. If this is about sneaking into Britt’s dorm, what are they going to do to me? Fire me? Suspend me? What? This could ruin my career.
The door to Mr. Hanifin’s office is open when I arrive. I knock on the door frame, and he waves me in, a grim look on his face. I shut the door behind me.
“Have a seat, Trace.” I do. “Prior to us hiring you, you informed us of your relationship with one of our students. We appreciated your up-front honesty, hired you, and instructed you to keep the relationship off-campus. Tonight, we had a student report that you were seen in one of the residence halls, entering the dorm with a student, who isn’t your girlfriend. Before this goes further, we want to know what happened.”
Fucking hell. I clear my throat. “My girlfriend is that student’s roommate. She had been ignoring me and her roommate informed me that she skipped classes today. With her mental health issues, I wanted to check on her. That’s why she took me to their room. That’s it. I’m sorry for breaking the rules, but I was concerned about her.” Who would have reported me, though? “Could you tell me who the student was who saw me?”
“For the student’s sake, we can not. We need to handle the matter swiftly and carefully because the student was really upset.”
That’s when it hits me. “I’ve been careful to avoid hanging out with Brittany when her roommate’s boyfriend is around because her boyfriend has come in here to see me before. Brittany and her roommate don’t know that, though. If he was the one who saw me, then I know he would be furious because of what he talks about when he sees me. This is all one misunderstanding. I don’t have a relationship with another student.”
“Regardless, you still broke the rules.”
I grip my neck. “So, what’s going to happen?”
“The reason we hired you was because you were the most qualified candidate and you seemed really eager for the position. We set those rules because we didn’t want situations like this to arise, and they wouldn’t have had you followed them. We’re giving you a written warning, but consider it counting for two. If it happens again, we won’t hesitate to fire you. The university doesn’t want nor need this kind of controversy. We’ll speak to the student, explain the actual situation, and reassure the student that you’ve been disciplined.”
“Thank you so much, Mr. Hanifin. It won’t happen again.”
He curtly nods. “You’re dismissed.”
I get up and leave. The drive home is like one big blur. I snap out of it once I park in the driveway. Lily comes running out and I look up to see that Brittany is standing in the doorway, her arms wrapped around herself. When I get close to her, she holds out her arms and I step into them, letting her hug me.
“I still have a job.” That’s the most important part.
“What happened?”
“Someone saw Rebecca sneaking me into your dorm and reported it.” She doesn’t need to know that it was probably Dustin. I can’t tell her that he sees me, so it would be pointless to mention him. “I was written up; if it happens again, I’m fir
ed.”
“God, Trace, I’m sorry. This is all my fault.”
“Stop, Brittany. It doesn’t matter.”
“It does. My selfishness could’ve cost you your job!”
I grab her shoulders firmly and say, “Stop! I don’t give a damn. I don’t want to think about it anymore, all right?”
“Yeah, okay. Sorry.”
Lily runs up the steps, past us, and inside. I take Brittany’s hand and lead her inside. “Let’s go to bed.”
“Don’t pull away from me,” she whispers from behind me as I lock the door.
“I’m not.” I turn toward her and hug her to me. “We just need to do things differently. You need to make sure you don’t ignore me. I can’t sneak in anymore. We won’t have to worry about it at all once you graduate.”
“I still feel bad,” she mutters into my chest.
“And I’m still stressed as hell over it, but what can we do? Don’t feel bad, Britt. I knew it was a risk; I took it anyway. It’s done, over with, and I still have my job. Let’s focus on that, okay?”
“Okay.”
After getting ready for bed and taking my pills, I climb in next to Brittany. She rolls onto her side to face me.
“I love you,” she whispers, idly running her hands over my chest.
Relief hits me and it’s like a breath of fresh air. It’s been too long since I’ve heard those words. “I love you too.” My hands intently take a path along her body as I lean forward and kiss her. I need and want more from her. Brittany must be feeling the same because she quickly pushes me onto my back and straddles my lap.
“Tell me again.” She pulls my shirt off.
“I love you,” I tell her, my gaze hungrily soaking in her chest as she sheds her shirt. My eyes widen when she starts moving down my legs, pulling off the remainder of my clothes.
“And you promise to always be here and be my comfort?”
Her question is distracting as her fingers wrap around my length. She absentmindedly licks her lips. Is she going to…? She’s never done that before. I swallow hard. My heart accelerates in sweet anticipation. She squeezes me just a bit too tightly and I realize she asked me a question.
“Promise.” The single word seems to scrape along my throat as I say it. That’s all she needs to hear, though, as the tip of her tongue flicks over me. My head falls back with a heavy sigh and I wonder why in the hell it took her so long to do this to me.
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