Page 68 of Sweeter Than Fiction

“I actually wanted to see if you wanted to come with me.”

She turns so that she’s looking up at me. “You want me to come to Nebraska?”

“Don’t feel like you have to say yes. I won’t be mad if you think it’s too soon. I just thought it might be fun. And I’ll pay for your ticket.”

I watch her process what I just asked. Now, I am fairly sure I’ve freaked her out.

“I have one condition,” she says.

“Hit me with it.”

“You have to come to my Thanksgiving too. I could use a buffer.”

That gets an instant smile from me. “You’ve got yourself a deal, beautiful.”

I add, “You know, I would have gone with you regardless of if you went with me.”

“I know. But yours will probably be much more pleasant than mine. I’m just warning you now.”

“Oh, I can handle it.”

We go back to watching the show, sitting in a comfortable silence as I play with her hair.

We don’t speak until she asks, “Do you want to stay tonight?”

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes, but only if you want.”

“I’d love to.”

“Thank you for dinner,” she says. “You didn’t have to buy so much, but I love that you did. This time of the month, I swear I want to eat everything in sight.”

“Then, I guess we will just have to do this every month.”

Chapter Twenty-six

Abby

“It’s been a while, Abby,” My therapist, Dr. Green, says to me as we sit down across from each other.

“It has! How was your trip to Brazil?”

“Wonderful. It’s always nice seeing family. Thank you for asking.” She gives me a warm smile, showing off every one of her perfect teeth.

“What’s the weather like in Brazil this time of year?”

“Abby, no stalling. This is your therapy session. Not mine.”

Damn. She’s always onto me. “I know, I know.”

I started going to therapy a few years ago. When I was going through my true-crime kick, the world suddenly seemed like a super scary place. I got to the point where I was scared to leave my apartment. Even after I stopped all the crime stuff, I still didn’t want to go anywhere.

That’s the wrong way to phrase that.

It’s normal that I don’t want to go anywhere.

But depression hit me hard, and I couldn’t force myself to do anything. I’d only be up long enough to work and eat, and I’d sleep for close to sixteen hours a day.

---