Wrecked (Dirty Air 3)

“Thinking is good.”

I let out a loud laugh. “Well, actually I’ve been thinking about a few things. The first is that I didn’t realize I like being in a relationship.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

I tap my fingers against the hole in my ripped jeans. “Good. Surprisingly good.” So fucking good I hope I don’t cock it up.

“You sound surprised by that.”

“I am. I’ve never made the time for anything serious like this before.”

“How long have you been dating Elena? Has it been two months already?”

“Close. And trust me, I’m equally shocked.”

Tom laces his fingers together. “What about being in a relationship shocks you?”

“Do you need more besides the fact that I’m me, and Elena’s Elena?”

He tilts his head. “Tell me what that means to you.”

Oh, Tom. As we’ve grown more comfortable around one another, he becomes bolder with his questions. I’m not exactly opposed to it, but it does challenge me to be more open with him.

“Elena has her life pretty put together besides a few hiccups. Even her messed-up parts are tame compared to mine. She wants to achieve the highest standards, and has no problem facing her issues. And fuck me, she trusts me to help her through her fears.”

“Does that scare you? Someone relying on you to be their rock?”

“It’s fucking terrifying.”

Tom chuckles. “I can attest to that.”

“You’re married. Talk about reaching the highest level of reliance.” I point at his ring.

“Of course. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I fight to roll my eyes. “Of course, you would say that. You’re married and a therapist, so you’re bound to preach about good vibes and Motivation Monday quotes.”

Tom lets out a roar of laughter. “Tell me something. How does it feel to know Elena trusts you enough to count on you when she is scared?”

“Good. Really fucking good. Like I’ll do whatever I can to banish all the shit holding her back, one way or another.”

“Then there you have it. I feel similarly about having someone rely on me, too.”

Shit. Talking to Tom gives me a new perspective.

“I have another problem.”

“Let’s hear it.”

I swallow back my nerves. “I want to do the predictive test. I need to know if I have Huntington’s or not so I can move on. I’m going to ask my mum to set up the genetic counseling and the actual test.”

Tom’s eyebrows raise—his only tell of surprise. He leans in closer. “That’s very brave of you. What changed?”

Everything. Every fucking thing and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not when Elena has infiltrated my carefully erected walls, blowing through them like they were made of paper.

“I’ve decided maybe I’ve been going about this situation the wrong way. With the new medication, some of the tremors have been better, and I’d hate to think I’ll keep worrying over nothing.”

“I’m glad to hear the medication change has been helping you. I can tell you’ve made some big improvements in your life so far, and I’m really proud of you.”