Fix Me

“Yes. I certainly couldn’t do it. I would overwater the plants—assuming I could find them all.”

“You could always put your finger in the soil,” I suggested. “That’s how my mom used to check her plants.”

She shrugged. “But I don’t have a green thumb and I would hate for the plants to die. Best leave it to the professionals.”

It had been a stupid conversation. I was just trying to get her to talk, to open up. She wasn’t being aloof or rude, but she wasn’t her usual, vibrant self. I felt like I was missing a piece of her. She was holding back the personal stuff. She wasn’t talking about a painting she loved or how much she loved the color blue. I felt like a caregiver. I felt like she forgot all about what we had shared. She was shutting me out.

I hated myself for pushing her away. I wasn’t sure I could ever fix it. Something had to change. Something had to give. Neither of us could keep up with the pretense that we were just employee and boss. She was my boss. I worked for her. I could not be with her the way I wanted to be if I continued working at the house.

If she couldn’t make the decision, I would make it for us. I would quit and just be her boyfriend if she would have me.

Chapter Eleven

Bree

IT HAD BEEN A GOOD day. Not a great day, but a good one. It was nice to change up the usual routine. Luke was trying. I could feel him trying, but I wasn’t sure we could ever go back to the way things were. I was insecure. My insecurity was made worse by my inability to see. I was stuck on a merry-go-round and too damn afraid to jump off. He was my anchor and I could feel him slipping away. I was close, so close to pulling the trigger on the surgery. Something was holding me back. I didn’t know what it was. I was sure I wanted to try it, but it was like the moment I opened my mouth to say it, I froze.

“You seem distant,” Luke said.

I shrugged. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Yes, you do,” he agreed.

I waited for him to bring up the surgery again. I didn’t need any more pressure. I got it. I wanted it, but I didn’t want the risk—if that made any sense at all. “I think I’m going to change into something more comfortable,” I told him.

“I’ll walk you.”

“You don’t have to do that,” I answered.

“No, I don’t have to, but I’d like to. It isn’t like I have any grand plans.”

I smiled and let him take my hand. I knew my way to my bedroom just fine. I didn’t need him, but he wanted to come along. At my door, he paused, neither of us making a move to go into the room. I could feel the tension. He wanted to say something. I wanted to say something. Neither of us said a word.

“Luke, this is so hard,” I finally said.

“What is it?” he asked. “What’s on your mind? I can feel you holding back, and it’s making me crazy.”

I let out a long sigh. “Come in,” I said, reaching out to take his hand. We moved into my room, standing in front of one another.

“Is everything okay?” he asked me.

“No, it isn’t.”

“What’s wrong? Are you sick? Hurt? What is it?”

I slowly shook my head. “Not sick. Yesterday was difficult, I’ll admit it. You pulled away from me. It’s hard to explain, but when you shut down and don’t talk, I feel lost. When I can’t hear you, I can’t know what you are thinking. I don’t know if you are happy, sad, angry. I can’t read your expression. It makes me feel like I’m totally alone, even though you’re right next to me.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, touching my arm. “I told you I’m sorry. It wasn’t you. I was just having a rough day.”

“You say that, but without me seeing your face, I don’t know if you are telling me the truth. It is so frustrating not being able to see a person’s face and look into their eyes. I never realized how much I depended on being able to see a person’s smile, frown or even a particular look in their eyes.”

He was quiet for several seconds. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to remember that in the future.”

I shook my head. “It isn’t anything to be sorry about. This is on me. I’m the one who locked myself in this prison and I have to either deal with the consequences or get over it. I can’t put my frustrations on you.”

“Yes, you can. Please do. Put them on me. Let me help you work through them. You are not alone, Bree.”

I had a chance to tell him how I felt. The old me would have just kept it bottled inside. I learned my lesson with Nate. That situation had dragged on for far too long because I didn’t say how I felt. “I might not be alone, but I feel alone. When you’re distant, I start to get a little panicky. I shouldn’t be so clingy. I shouldn’t want you for anything more than the paid professional you are, but I can’t just shut off the feelings. When you pull away, it makes me feel like I’m not worthy of you. I feel like I don’t deserve you.”