She fell into a rhythm quickly. Within minutes, she was able to think more clearly. She was feeling better when she completed her route and jogged up the front door steps.
She unhooked Gus’s leash, and Lester greeted them at the door. “I’m back! Seventeen minutes! I told you I’d be quick!”
There was no answer, and Jane wasn’t in the bedroom or the bathroom when she looked. Her work clothes lay on the bed, and the room smelled like freshly sprayed perfume, but Jane was nowhere to be found. On a hunch, Izzy checked the garage. Jane’s car was gone. Jane had left without her.
She’d just left?
She sent a text. Where did you go?
Izzy sat on the side of the bed and waited a minute for a response. When one didn’t come immediately, she took a Xanax to help calm the anxiety she felt creeping toward the red zone and jumped into the shower.
As the water coursed over her, Izzy vacillated between extreme annoyance, hurt, anger, and concern. This wasn’t like Jane. She didn’t just shut down. But they’d never had a real argument before, either. She didn’t know how to process what had happened. Could she have done something different? But Jane had locked herself in the bathroom and hadn’t left any room to continue the conversation. Frustration and irritation started to win the battle within her. By the time Izzy got out of the shower, she was full-on angry, mostly with herself but a little with Jane. She imagined a million different ways their conversation could have gone differently.
She yanked a towel off the towel rack and briskly dried herself off.
Movement out of the corner of her eye startled her. Jane stood in the bathroom doorway looking uncertain.
Relief and confusion rushed through her. She wrapped the towel around herself and felt bad for assuming Jane had just left her. “I thought you left without me.”
“I did.”
Hurt rose in Izzy. Until Jane confirmed it, she hadn’t thought she had actually left without her. Sure, she’d started to work herself up about the situation, but in the back of her mind she’d thought Jane had another reason to have not been there and she just forgot to leave a note or text her about it.
“Oh.” Izzy was at a loss for words. Not that she didn’t have a million of them roiling through her head, but it was too much for her to focus on to figure out what to say next. Without an outlet for all the chaos, she was close to just screaming or rushing from the room to escape the pressure building up. It would just make things worse, though, so she just stood there, staring at the wall above Jane’s head.
“Did you hear me? Izzy, you’re sort of freaking me out.”
“What?” Izzy felt as if she was being reeled back in from a great distance.
Jane looked annoyed. “I asked if you heard what I said, and you just stood there staring.”
Izzy searched her mind for the thread of the conversation. “You said you left without me.”
Lines appeared between Jane’s brows. “I mean after that, when I said I realized I was being a total jackass, so I came back.”
“Sorry. I sort of got stuck on the part when you said you left me on purpose.” It was weird. She felt sort of numb about it now, like all the thoughts in her head had sort of built a wall around her, and she was just kind of standing there, unaffected. Everything seemed so far away, and she was just observing it now. She didn’t like it. She wanted to be present.
Jane leaned against the door frame. “I was a jerk. I’m sorry for leaving. I guess I was just at a loss for how to deal with the situation.” She sighed. “This whole thing about taking you to the party is just so overwhelming, and I don’t know why. I mean, I do know why, but I feel like I should have a handle on it by now. I know it’s ridiculous.”
The weird distance feeling went away, and a muted panic started to set in. The Xanax was kicking in. Izzy just stood there listening to Jane. Could Jane see the turmoil going on within her? Standing there in nothing but a towel, she was trying to listen, but all she could think about was that Jane had left without her. She’d been afraid Jane would leave her, and it had happened.
She’d left.
She’d left.
She’d left.
But she’d come back.
She’d left, but she’d come back.
But she’d left.
“It’s not ridiculous.” Her lips felt numb.
Jane was looking at her own hands. She didn’t seem to notice Izzy was frozen like a statue on the bathroom rug. “It kind of is.”
“It’s how you feel. It’s not ridiculous.” She wished she hadn’t taken the medication. All she wanted was for the conversation to be over and for them to be okay again. “I don’t want to fight.”
Jane pushed herself off the door frame. “I don’t want to fight either.”
Jane wrapped her arms around her and Izzy slid her arms around her waist. Her head was still teeming with words and emotions, and she just let it spin. She tried to concentrate on how their hearts started to beat in time with one another. As she started to relax, her thoughts slowed down, and all the noise and static dissipated. She rested her face against the skin of Jane’s neck and felt as if she were floating. The sensation was so strong, she started to worry she’d fall. Slowly, they parted, but Izzy held Jane’s hands in hers as she faced her. It was as much to keep from falling as to keep Jane close.
“Now we’re really going to be late to the party.” She didn’t want to go now, but she would for Jane.
Jane dropped her head back and groaned. “So late.”
Izzy winked at her, but the move felt wooden. “Let them think we were having sex.”
Jane stepped closer. “Sounds way better than going to the party, to be honest.”
Even though Izzy felt spacy from the Xanax, a pulse thrummed through her. She shimmied under the towel, and the loose fold keeping it up came undone, making it fall to her feet. “Then why are you wearing all those clothes?”
* * *
Jane drifted off to sleep in Izzy’s arms as Izzy ran her fingers across the exposed skin of her back. Izzy felt honored to hold her and protect her from the world. She still hadn’t been able to bring herself to confess her love to Jane, but it was massive, growing every day. She couldn’t try to describe it if she wanted to. But it was bigger than any kind of love she had ever experienced. There was no going back, even if she wanted to now. If anything were to happen to Jane, it would be devastating.
A fear with dark claws grabbed at Izzy’s heart. What would she do if anything ever happened to Jane? She couldn’t bear the thought, but there it was. She couldn’t exist. She’d do anything to protect her. But what if she was the bad thing that happened to Jane? Could she leave if it would save her?
A thought, stark and brutal, invaded her thoughts. Would it be better to be with Jane a short time, knowing her sickness would probably eventually drive Jane away and possibly break Jane? Or would it be better to let Jane go, knowing Jane was still in one piece, not broken? Izzy couldn’t make up her mind. One path was selfish. One path was unselfish. Indecision welled up in her, and she imagined Jane hurt by her inability to pick a path. Izzy convinced herself that, no matter what she did, she was going to hurt Jane and, in the process, destroy her own life.
Tears streamed down Izzy’s face. She tried to contain the grief building inside her. Not wanting to wake Jane with the shaking of her sobs, she held her breath and carefully rolled out of bed. The act of holding it together made her light-headed, and when she finally stood beside the bed and watched Jane sleep so innocently, she thought she might pass out from the physical reaction of holding in her tears mixed with the overwhelming amount of love and fear rampaging through her.
Izzy stumbled from the bedroom. Once she made it to the living room, she collapsed on the couch and rolled into a tight ball, crying. She was barely aware of Gus following her and jumping up on the couch, curling against her. Her entire body shook with sobs. A low keening escaped her, and she couldn’t stop it. She pulled a throw pillow to her
mouth and held it there to stifle the sound, but it just grew louder. Her head filled with pressure. Her grief and exhaustion built until she thought she’d explode.
“Izzy?” Jane’s voice was miles away. Warm hands rested on her back. “What’s wrong, honey?”
Izzy felt Jane sit next to her on the couch, and she allowed Jane to pull her head into her lap. Gus pressed tightly against her stomach. The warmth of Jane’s body seeped into Izzy where they touched, and Izzy didn’t know she had started to freeze. Jane’s warmth was thawing her. Izzy wrapped her arms around Jane and buried her face in Jane’s stomach. She continued to cry, but the sobs didn’t threaten to shatter her anymore. Jane stroked her hair and pulled a blanket over her.
“Izzy, honey, what is it? Why are you crying?”
Izzy wanted to answer, but she was so, so tired, and she didn’t trust her tight throat to work enough to answer. She only squeezed Jane tighter.
Izzy wasn’t aware she had fallen asleep until Jane was helping her sit up and guiding her back to the bedroom. Jane helped her into bed and lay beside her, pulling Izzy close to her.
“Thank you,” Izzy whispered. Her throat was tight and painful.
Jane stroked her hair. “Oh, Izzy. What’s wrong?”
Izzy swallowed. “I just started thinking about losing you, and I couldn’t bear it.”
Jane held Izzy tightly. “You aren’t losing me. I’m right here. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere.”
* * *
“Hi, Izzy. How has your week been?” Tori asked as Izzy took a seat across from her.
“It’s been good,” Izzy said, and then she shook her head. “I don’t know why I said that. It hasn’t been good. It’s been pretty difficult, actually. It’s like the universe opened up and decided to take a crap on me, to be honest.” The words came out in a rush, as if she couldn’t keep up with her thoughts. “You know what I mean? Life saves up a huge pile of shit and just pounds you with it? I don’t believe in fate, but if I did, I’d think someone was royally messing with me, you know?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “It’s been a true shit-storm of epic proportions.” She slid her hands under her thighs, not sure what to do with them. “I can barely sit still because I’ve just been dealing with it, and it feels like it’s just creating this energy ball deep within me, and I’m not sure if I’m going to just fall over from exhaustion because of it or explode. Do you ever feel that way? I can’t even describe it adequately. I hate the feeling, though. I can’t wait to go running tonight to get rid of all of this energy. You know, to ground myself. Running is the only thing that grounds me. I wish Jane understood. But she doesn’t, and it’s a problem.”
Izzy forced herself to stop talking. After her breakdown on Friday night, she’d had a hard time talking at all. It had rained all weekend, and she and Jane had spent the weekend at home, barely talking. She knew Jane wanted to know more about the episode, but she hadn’t pushed, and Izzy hadn’t offered more. Now, Monday morning, Izzy couldn’t seem to stop talking.
Tori paused as if to make sure Izzy was done. “You seem a little keyed up. Is that why you made this extra appointment?”
She laughed. What an understatement. “Is keyed up the clinical definition for symptoms of my bipolar disorder?”
“Is it what you think you’re doing?”
“Definitely. And the sad thing is, I’m trying so hard not to. You know, trying to keep my behavior within the confines of social norms? And I know I’m not being successful, making me want to try even harder, which makes me act weirder. It’s a vicious cycle. Or is it viscous circle? It’s vicious cycle, because a viscous circle implies a thick liquid, which is just a little moist for my tastes. Not to mention it’s just pornographic. See? That was weird. I knew it was weird when I was saying it, but I didn’t stop, because stopping midsentence would be even weirder.” She threw her hands up. “I can’t win.”
Tori tilted her head. “You’re probably aware you’re exhibiting forced talking.”
She tilted her own head. “Yeah. I know I’m a bit of a chatterbox. I only have fifty minutes with you, and it goes by so fast sometimes so I want to get it all out.”
“How have you been sleeping?”
“Well, it’s hard to stick to a specific bedtime when you have a beautiful woman right next to you. Plus, we’re new, and you know how it is.”
“But do you think you’re getting at least eight hours of sleep each night?”
God. She wished people would stop policing her sleeping patterns. She knew it was important. She did her best to manage it, but life wasn’t always so neat and tidy. “I wasn’t for a while, when I was running in the mornings, too. But after the session where we talked about it, I’ve cut it back to running just after work, so I’ve been getting a little more sleep each night. I shoot for eight hours, but sometimes, it’s just six or seven.”
“You know eight hours is the magic number for you, though.”
Izzy ran a hand through her hair. “I know. I know. I know. I need to work on it. I will work on it.”
“How about nutrition?”
Okay. They were going to check all the boxes. God, this was tedious. “I’ve been eating fine. I’ve been taking my meds. We’ve already established I’m getting exercise. I’m watching my impulse control. I’m aware of the forced talking.”
Tori smiled. “You mentioned you’ve adjusted your running schedule. It seems like you’re still a little fixated on it.”
“Running has always been my happy place. I think it’s as important as my medication. It grounds me.”
“Tell me a little more about what you need grounding for.”
Izzy forced herself not to roll her eyes. Tori knew what she needed grounding for. She knew Tori was just trying to get her to talk more about it, but it was all academic. Her issues were all on the table. She had a chemical imbalance called bipolarism, and all the talking in the world wouldn’t fix it. Still, like running, her sessions helped ground her. She’d play the game. She sighed. “I’ve had some changes in my life lately. I think I’m just adjusting.”
“Do you think there’s other stuff going on?”
Izzy realized she was shaking her knee. She put her hand on it and told herself to stop. “Like what?”
Tori tilted her head. “I don’t know. I just wonder if the changes have brought up stuff you need to work on. You’ve spent a big part of your adult life holding people at a distance because you’re afraid potential pain caused by being vulnerable may trigger a bipolar episode. Maybe you’re subconsciously causing it to happen.”
Izzy hadn’t thought of that. “Like a self-fulfilling prophecy?”
“Kind of. It could be you sense you’re losing control. Maybe running is one thing you can control. How’s work going?”
Interesting about the control thing. “It’s the same as always.”
“Are you putting in more hours than normal?”
“Yeah. I am. But there is so much work to be done.” No revelation there. They’d talked about her tendency to work long hours to death over the years. She had to do something to fill her days, right?
“Has anything changed?”
“Not really. There’s always more work to be done.”
“Are you avoiding going home at night?”
She laughed. “Actually, the opposite. Especially since Jane moved in. I can’t wait to see her every night. It’s just, I lose track of time sometimes. When I realize I’ve stayed late, I always pack up and go home.”
“To run?”
It was hard to explain how the stronger she felt about Jane, the more important the running was for her. It helped balance things. “Partly, but more to get home to Jane.”
“How are things with Jane?”
She started to shake her knee again, and she didn’t bother to stop it. “Up until this week, I would have said great. But we had a fight Friday.”
Tori raised an eyebrow. “What was it about?”
Thoughts start
ed to spin around in Izzy’s head. She told Tori about their fight, how it had started because she’d wanted to go running before the party, about the panic attack she had after Jane fell asleep.
“You said you needed to go running even though Jane was concerned about being late to the party.”
She was tired of defending her need to run. It grounded her. How hard was it to understand? “I run to think, to clear up my thoughts. It calms me down.”
“Do you think you run because it’s something you can control?”
“Maybe. It helps me control my thoughts.”
“I meant more about you being able to control the running, the whole thing, all aspects. From the scheduling of it to the route you take and the pace you set for yourself. It’s your thing. You’re in charge of it. You can’t control your workload or even your sleep schedule, but you can control your running. So, when Jane suggested you not go running that night, it may have upset your balance.”
Izzy considered the possibility. It made a lot of sense. It would explain how irritable she felt any time someone suggested she change her running schedule. “You may have a point there.”
“Tell me a little more about your panic attack.”
Izzy’s chest grew tight just thinking about it. “It’s not the first time it happened. A couple weeks ago, I got home late, and I knew Jane was sort of angry, so I tried to make it up to her, and we went in the hot tub, and we ended up making love. After she fell asleep, I kept thinking how our happiness was finite, and she would end up leaving me. I just started bawling. I couldn’t stop. I called Audie, and she talked me through it. This last time was basically the same thing. Jane found me crying on the couch and comforted me.”
“Why do you think she’s going to leave you?”
“It’s not like I think about it all the time. It’s only been those two times, and I was stressed.”
“Have you told Jane about being bipolar yet?”
“Not yet. I want to get it under control before I do.”
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