“Wait, what? What did he say?” I didn’t mean to interrupt Natalie’s thought, and I did care deeply about her feelings, but I couldn’t just let her gloss over that thing about the one. Had I even heard her right? My head was so foggy.
“He said you were the one.” Her face contorted with worry. She put her hands on her head. “Oh no, I hope I didn’t just blow what was supposed to be a really nice moment between the two of you by telling you that. He’s never said that to you before?”
“No,” I said slowly, my heart beating fast. Wasn’t the one kind of a forever thing? “He doesn’t believe in the one. Plus it’s an odd number. He hates those.”
“What?” She dropped her hands, her expression confused.
“Never mind. Just one of the quirks that makes Sebastian who he is.” But right then, I actually found his number quirks kind of endearing. “So he really said that?”
She nodded. “Yes. He definitely said, ‘She’s the one.’ But you can’t tell him I told you first!” Her eyes were wide and panicked.
“It’s OK. I won’t.” I pursed my lips. “But he better fucking say it to me eventually. Or I’ll be the one that got away.” Inside, my heart was tripping over itself—the one! the one! the one!
Natalie laughed. “Somehow, I doubt that. Give him a little time, sis. He wants to make things right.”
A nurse popped in to take my vitals, so Natalie got off the bed. “Don’t go, Nat. I want to hear the rest of what you were saying about Dan.”
“Nothing more to tell, really. I suppose I’m just envious of the way you and Sebastian feel about each other. But all relationships take work, I know that. Maybe we just need to work a little harder.” She dismissed the topic of her relationship with a shrug and a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and sat on the chair again. If I hadn’t been so exhausted, I’d have pressed her to say more, but between the pain and the drugs, I was beat.
I lay back and let the nurse poke and prod me, and at first I had my eyes closed but I swear I could feel her staring at my face. When I opened one eye, stare was confirmed.
“Are you…” she began hesitantly, “by any chance…from that reality show?”
Oh, God. Really? After all this time, a Save a Horse fan? I squeezed my eyes shut again for a second. “Yes.”
“I thought so!” Her reaction was so joyful I thought for sure she had me confused with another contestant.
“I’m Skylar Nixon,” I said, as if she couldn’t read the medical chart on the door.
“I know!” She rocked back on her heels gleefully. “My friend and I loved you on that show! You were the only fun thing about it! That time you threw the drink on Whiney Whitney? Priceless!”
I blinked at her. Was this for real? Or was this my brain on drugs? “Seriously?”
“Yes.” Smiling, she finished up with my blood pressure. “We were so bummed when you left.”
“But I was so horrible.”
She shrugged. “It was fun to watch, though. Who wants to watch a bunch of people being nice to each other?”
“That’s what I told her,” put in Natalie.
Sighing, I shook my head. “Whatever. I’m just glad it’s behind me. But thanks.” I gave the young nurse a smile. “I appreciate it.”
Some time during the afternoon, I was cleared for release and sent home with lots of pain meds and instructions to take it easy. My mother took me back to her house and insisted I stay there, even though I was a little desperate for some alone time. But it was nice to be fussed over and catered to, I’ll admit. She made spaghetti and meatballs for me, which I ate on a tray table while snuggled in a cozy spot on the couch. Jillian came over with honey sticks, chocolate chip cookies, and my favorite shampoo and conditioner, and after dinner she helped me wash and dry my hair, then gave me a foot massage on the couch while I ate sweets and watched a Tiger game on TV with my dad.
I checked my phone only once and saw messages from Mia and Kelly Pryce, who must have heard about my fall from Sebastian, but there was nothing from him. Disappointed, I put my phone away and tried to enjoy the time with my family, despite my aching head and sore arm.
But before I fell into a drug-induced deep sleep that night in my old bed, I fretted that he’d changed his mind about me and gone back to thinking that a relationship was just too much work, even if I was the one.
“I’ve been lying to you.”
Ken took my characteristic bluntness in stride, regarding me silently, waiting for me to go on. If he was alarmed, he didn’t show it, nor did his expression betray any surprise at what I’d announced. He had to know something was up—I’d never asked him to come in on a Saturday before.
“And I canceled all of last month’s appointments to avoid facing the truth.” Perched at the edge of the couch, I slid my hands up and down the tops of my legs, anxious about making this confession but knowing it had to be done.
“I was worried about that.” He looked at me intently. “Did you have a relapse?”
“Yes. For months now, I’ve been backsliding.”
He reached for his notepad and clicked his ballpoint pen. “Intrusive thoughts?”
“Yes. And the rituals. And anxiety, the worst anxiety I’ve ever felt.”
He made a note and flipped back a few pages. “Months, you said? About when did this start?”
“August twenty-fifth.”
Ken looked up. “What triggered it?”
“Skylar told me she loved me.” For a second, I blamed Skylar for telling me she loved me for the first time on an odd day. Didn’t she know nothing good happened to me on odd days?
“And what about that was traumatic for you?”
I stared at my hands on my legs. “The weight of it. The responsibility.”
He made another note. “Tell me about the responsibility of loving someone.”
God, didn’t he understand me at all? “It’s not the responsibility of loving someone. Loving her is easy. It’s effortless.” I took a breath and tried to put into words how I felt. “It’s the responsibility that comes with letting someone love you. It means you’re beholden to that love. You have to sustain that love.”
“You have to deserve that love.”
Aha. He did understand me.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “And no matter how much my heart feels for her, my head just keeps convincing me I’m doomed to disappoint her, or worse.”
“You will disappoint her, Sebastian. That’s human nature. In any close relationship, there will be hurt and disappointment.” He set his notepad aside. “But there is also forgiveness. Redemption. No one expects you to be perfect.”
“Except for myself.”
“You’re going to have to let that go, Sebastian. We all know what it feels like to want to be a better person for someone, but aiming for perfection is a mistake.” He shifted in his chair, sat up taller. “Think back to when I first started seeing you. You set goals. You made progress. Things have changed now that you’ve fallen in love, but there’s no reason why we can’t adjust those goals, adjust your therapy to help you. You respond well to therapy, Sebastian. You’re disciplined and tough on yourself and determined. Let’s use those qualities to help you get back on track.”
I nodded, glad to hear his faith in me.
“Now tell me what happened in the last month.”
Sitting back on the couch, I described my last few months to him in detail, explaining how falling more in love with Skylar had triggered the faulty wiring in my brain to convince me the rituals would protect her. “Instead they drove her away,” I said. “She accused me of doing it on purpose, and I wonder if she was right. Maybe I wasn’t doing it to protect her—maybe I was doing it to make her leave so that it would be less painful. I’d have control over it, you know?”