“Then what’s the problem? I know the fire was stressful for you, but everyone made it out. The kids are healthy, Trevor is back to his old self, but you…something’s changed. You’re different. It’s like all of the smiles and laughter and joy have been sucked right out of you.”

That’s because they have. Everything in my life right now revolves around that fire. I even find myself categorizing things into before the fire and after the fire, which seems silly because she’s right—we all made it out, and no one got hurt. It shouldn’t bother me so much, except it does. I let my father and his legacy down. And that makes me wonder who I am anymore.

Before the fire, my life was pretty damn great. I was happy almost all the time—there wasn’t a reason not to be. My job was rewarding, tutoring was fulfilling, and I couldn’t wait to hang out with my friends and hear about their lives. It’s like everything was full of bright colors, and then the fire came along and checked my reality, sucking away the rainbow. Now I’m in a black and white fog that I can’t seem to work my way out of.

It’s like I’ve lost Claire. I’ve always had a strong sense of who I am and what I stand for, but all of that shifted after the fire. I’m not the person I thought I was. I even returned Milo. How am I supposed to care for a dog when I’m clearly not able to make responsible choices, not to mention struggling to care for myself?

What would’ve happened to Milo if I’d been seriously injured or worse…

I shudder at the thought. It wasn’t responsible to take her in.

But I’ll never forget the shock on Mo’s face when I showed up at Animal Haven.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said, refusing to take the dog.

“Trust me, she’s better off,” I told her. “Better it happens now before she gets any more attached to me.”

“She’s already very attached to you.”

“She’s still young. She’ll forget.”

Mo just stared at me like I’d grown a second head, and because I was in such a dark place, I simply set Milo down and walked away, ignoring her as she chased after me.

It’s not something I’m proud of, but I didn’t know what else to do.

The darkness has faded a bit since then, but it hasn’t completely gone away. I just can’t seem to let go of the guilt. It’s eating at me. Though I didn’t want to, I’ve tried to talk to both my mom and Mo about it. I’ve even talked to my friend Tess, but no one gets it. They tell me I don’t need to feel the way I do, that my feelings are unwarranted, and I shouldn’t carry that guilt around. But they don’t understand that it isn’t a choice. I’d structured my life, my choices, myself around making my father proud, and then I messed up. The shame is embedded inside of me, and while objectively I realize it’s exaggerated, I can’t let it go.

Our tutoring sessions were suspended for a week—and I did think about never, ever going back—but I’m forcing myself to move forward. I have to keep showing up for those kids. Maybe eventually I’ll redeem myself. Anyway, for now, we’re temporarily working out of the elementary school while Bright Start waits for its new building to become ready. Even though it’s a different building on the opposite side of town, every time I switch from my teaching role to my tutoring role and see my students’ faces, I think about the fire and how I hesitated, and then how I forgot those boys.

The alarm went off, and rather than rushing the kids out like I should’ve done—like I was taught to do—I assumed it was a prank and asked them to sit down. That was mistake number one. And then came the twins. Their mom brought me cookies when tutoring resumed to thank me for running in after her boys. We both started crying—her because her kids could’ve died that day, and me because I forgot her boys were in the bathroom and didn’t have the courage to tell her. If they’d died, it would’ve been my fault, and that’s something I have to live with.

But that’s not the worst of it. I have to drive past the firehouse to get to work every morning, and every time I pass, I’m hit with a fresh wave of guilt over Trevor’s injuries. The way he looked at me and talked to me that day in the hospital room is all I think about. It’s clear he was upset, and he has every right to be, but I was trying to make things right. I wanted to show my appreciation, but he didn’t want any part of it.

And to add insult to injury, he doesn’t seem at all affected or changed by the few minutes we spent alone together in that bathroom at Animal Haven. Foolishly, I thought the next chance he got, he’d pull me into his arms and tell me we never should’ve been apart and whatever this was brewing between us, we needed to figure it out.

That didn’t happen, and I don’t even know what to think about that. Probably it’s for the best, but it doesn’t feel that way. I don’t know where I stand with my dating rules now, because dating is about the furthest thing from my mind.

Since walking out of his hospital room three weeks ago, my emotions have been running on an endless cycle, and I can’t seem to process them. Mom has mentioned talking to a counselor. Maybe I need to consider that. She’s also suggested I talk to Trevor about how I’m feeling, but there’s no way I can do that. Not after our last conversation.

I haven’t seen Trevor since that day in the hospital. I haven’t seen much of anyone, actually, because I’ve secluded myself. I don’t want people to see the shell of a woman I’ve become. I go to work, come home, and other than a weekly trip to Wal-Mart, there isn’t much I do. Netflix has become my best friend. I see my mom and Mo about once a week—although they call me every day—and that’s only because they force themselves into my home. Coop brought me pizza one night, and as soon I busted into tears, he was out the door.

Rhett showed up on my doorstep a week ago to try to convince me to take Milo back, said she wouldn’t stop crying, but I shut the door in his face. Not my finest moment, but what did he expect was going to happen? After that day, I forbade Mo from mentioning Milo or sending me pictures of her—which she did often—and I threatened her within an inch of her life if anyone showed up on my doorstep again with the dog.

“I just really want my friend back,” Mo says, pulling me out of my head.

I sigh. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Things have changed. I’m in a funk, and I don’t know how to dig myself out of it.”

“Don’t apologize. And you don’t need to know how; that’s what you have me for.”

“Mo,” I sigh. “I told you, I’m really not in the mood to—”

“Do you trust me, Claire?” she interrupts.

“Yes.”

“And don’t you want to get back to your normal life?”

“Of course, but it’s not that easy.”

Tags: K. L. Grayson Dirty Dicks Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net