Page 92 of Just Forever

“How about this,” he continues. “We’ll take it step by step. Expand the circle one person at a time. I’ll tell Kian.”

“No!” I rear back so fast I almost knock my head into his nose.

The panic is back. Big time.

Because this means trust. Having to trust. That thing I just did with Scott that then came back and kicked me in the nuts.

I’m still shaking my head. “You can’t trust people,” I blurt.

Ryker blinks and draws in a measured breath, but it’s tense. I can practically read his thoughts.

Not this again.

And I know what the normal route is, the one I should take.

But I don’t.

I double down.

“You can’t,” I say. “People suck. Look at all the examples. There are so many. It’s… it’s a real design flaw we have. Everybody’s an asshole.”

Holy fuck, the backs of my eyes are burning. I’m going to have an epic freak-out right here in the middle of our home, and then this place is going to be tainted by my issues too.

Ryk eyes me. Warily again. I’m making my husband wary.

“Stop being a dick,” he says softly.

I look away.

Ryk sighs.

I heave in a breath and try to make sense, but it’s like only half the words are willing to come out, so it ends up in fragments of thoughts. “If you do… and then—It’ll be my fault. Because people are assholes, and you don’t know. I…I don’t want—I can’t have that.”

It’s ugly and desperate. Panic so all-consuming it gives me tunnel vision and all the worst sides of me take over every piece of rational thought I have left, and I have to put a stop to it, but I can’t.

“What do you want then?” His tone is puzzled, with its own edge of desperation. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. I haven’t asked anything. I just want things to stay like they are.”

“You’re not happy!” His voice is louder now, which is almost the equivalent of shouting in Ryker’s case.

“I’m standing right here, telling you I’m fine!” I snap. Still the panic. Still the ugliness.

He turns and stalks away from me, muttering, “Oh my fucking God!”

“You don’t have to keep fixing me, you know?” I call after him.

He whirls around. “The fuck?”

“You’re a fixer, so you’re trying to fix me, too, but I’m not some fucking project you have to make better to fit your standards of happiness or whatever.”

He drags both his hands through his hair. “When the fuck have I ever tried to change anything about you at all?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re all well-adjusted and normal, and I’m an endless bunch of issues. Who the fuck wouldn’t try to fix at least some of it?”

I’m well aware I’m making no sense at all by now.

Ryker throws up his hands. “You want me to fix you now? What the fuck are you even saying? I’m going to need you to spellit out for me because you’re veering from one thing to the other, and it’s making my head spin.”

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