Page 70 of Space Oddities

I try and drum up some indignation, but it’s probably more like a childish fit of pique. “For your claustrophobia.”

“That isn’t why I invited you.”

“I—”

“I want you to come with me.Bewith me.”

I cross my arms over my chest, determined not to be swayed.

Rubbing a hand down his face, he groans. “Why does it seem like I’m missing something here?” His frustration is almost palpable.

I was hoping not to have it out quite yet, but maybe this is better. Firming my stance, I level him with a look. “I’m leaving, remember? After Jackie’s wedding. There’s no point in you rearranging your travel plans. I won’t even be here.”

I might as well have slapped him, given the look on his face.

* * *

Ian

“You’re still running away?”Out of all the things Trish could’ve said, this shocks me the most. I mean, we’relivingtogether. And not just both of us taking up the same square footage. She’s fully moved into my room.Ourroom. We’ve chosen sides of the bed. Our toothbrushes share the same cup.

She turns away, staring out the windows overlooking the backyard. “I’m not running away.”

I laugh unkindly, my enthusiasm of earlier draining away. “Seems like running away to me.” I should be above such snide, condescending remarks. But I’m not. My emotions are out of control, and I’m having a hard time thinking of a way around this new idea of Trish’s. Or rather, her old one, but one I’d thought forgotten. I guess I gave myself too much credit.

“We both knew this wasn’t permanent.” She crosses her arms over her chest. I’m only realizing now that’s she’s wearing an old T-shirt of mine. How can she say this while wearing my clothes? It seems so contrary. “Now you can reclaim your room after I clean up my mess.”

“I like our messy room.” And I do. Each article of clothing strewn over my stuff is evidence that I’m not alone. That I’m sharing my life with someone. With her.

She says nothing.

I want to ask her what happened, but I know. No matter how many times Trish says she understands, I never should’ve taken her to the fundraiser. Brenda was right: I was being a coward. I took the easy way.

“If this is about the fundraiser, I’m sorry—”

“Please, no more apologies.” She tries to smile, but it somehow makes her look sad. “I told you, I’m fine.”

There’s a finality to her voice I don’t like. I raise my eyebrows and smile back, trying to infuse some levity into the situation. “When you write women in your books and they say ‘I’m fine,’ do they ever really mean it?”

She doesn’t bite, her tone as resolute as before. “This isn’t one of my books.”

I give up on levity and decide to tactically retreat. I got ahead of myself thinking the problem of her staying was solved. First attack that, then move on to Germany.

“Let’s talk about this later. I have my appointment with Dr. Brown in twenty minutes. I just stopped by after work to…” I laugh at myself and how well I saw my grand gesture of a trip to Germany playing out. “Never mind.” I take a deep breath and pull Trish into a hug. She doesn’t return it, but she doesn’t pull away either. Small win. “How about I bring back dinner?”

It’s her turn to sigh, like she’s giving in though she doesn’t want to. “That sounds fine. You pick the place.”

I’ll get her favorite—everything. We’ll remake the pillow fort, have a picnic, and I’ll convince her not to leave after the wedding. To stay until Germany. Then to stay forever.

Eighteen

Shields Up

Ian

“You should be veryproud of yourself and how much you’ve accomplished.” Dr. Brown smiles, her expression in direct opposition to how I’m feeling. “I’ll contact your GP about a prescription for Xanax.” She quirks an eyebrow over her reading glasses. “Don’t be a hero. Take the medicine. It’s only once, no later than thirty minutes before the flight.” She taps her pen against the ever-present legal pad. “It will make things easier for you and those around you and shouldnotbe viewed as a failure to overcome your fear.”

She stares at me until I nod in agreement. I had been hoping not to need medicine, and she’s right, Ihadbeen thinking that taking medicine would mean I’d failed. But at the moment my anxiety has bigger problems.

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