Page 195 of What We Break
Or I was. I'm tired. Really tired.
Joyce is quiet for a moment. Then, "Has Reid noticed how Blake treats you?"
And there it is. The thing I've been avoiding even thinking about.
"I've mentioned it. He thinks Blake just needs time to warm up. That he's protective." I try to smile. "You know how guys are. They don't always see the subtle stuff."
"Mmm." Joyce's expression says she's not buying it. I'm having a hard time too. "Have you tried talking to Blake directly? Without Reid there?"
I let out a short, sharp laugh. "Once. Last week. My car died and he gave me a ride."
Her eyebrows raise. "And?"
"And it ended with him yelling at me to get out of his truck."
Joyce's eyebrows shoot up. "He kicked you out?"
"He said there's no version of this that works. That I need to go." I wrap my hands around the warm coffee cup, trying to stop them from shaking. "So, no. I don't plan on being alone with him again. I've learned my lesson."
"Honey..." Joyce frowns. "That level of hostility? That's not normal roommate friction. That's something else."
She's right, but what else could it be? Maybe he's dealing with his own stuff—PTSD, depression, something Reid hasn't told me about.Maybe my presence reminds him of a painful time in his past. Maybe he's worried I'll take Reid away from him.
There could be a hundred reasons why Blake acts this way. And I don’t see any way to figure out what’s really going on. Because I don’t plan to be alone with him anytime soon. The man’s words cut deep, and I'm still trying to heal from the last interaction.
"I should get back," I say, standing up. "Thanks for the coffee. And the talk."
Joyce stands too, but she's not done. "Laine, I'm going to say one more thing and then I'll leave it alone."
I wait, even though I really don't want to hear it. She's going to tell me what I already know. That I'm on a sinking ship, and at some point, I'm going to have to save myself.
"You deserve to be with someone who sees when you're being hurt. Who believes you when you tell them something's wrong. Who protects your light."
The words hit me in the chest. Because Reid does see my light—he tells me all the time how much he loves my energy, my brightness. He just doesn't see how that light flickers and dies around Blake.
Or maybe he doesn't want to see it.
"I know," I whisper. This isn't what I imagined for myself, and my life. This isn't the version of myself I want to be.
But changing it means losing someone I love. And I don't know if I can do it.
But I also don't know if I can survive this way for much longer. Blake was right when he said one of us is going to crack.
And I'm afraid it's going to be me.
Joyce pulls me into a quick hug. She smells like coffee and the lavender lotion she always uses. Safe. Maternal. All the things I miss about my mom being thousands of miles away.
"You're stronger than you think," she says into my hair. "Don't forget that."
I nod against her shoulder, then pull back. "I really do need to get back. The teenager in seven probably needs another bag of fluids."
"Go. But Laine? My door's always open. Literally. I never lock it, which drives day shift crazy crazy."
That gets a small smile out of me. The first real one all day.
I head back to the ER floor, trying to shake off the conversation. But Joyce's words keep echoing: You deserve someone who sees when you're being hurt.
Reid sees me. I know he does. He just seems to be blind when it comes to Blake.
