Page 74 of Shelter for Shay
Henley nodded. “That’s grief, trauma, truth—all colliding at once. But you’re standing, Shay. That matters.”
“So much of my life has changed in a single heartbeat. My mom died and she was my whole world. I loved her so much. I understand why she lied to me. I forgive her for that. There’s no anger or even a hint of resentment for what she did anymore.” She shifted in her seat. “I don’t even blame her for what happened. She couldn’t have predicted what Edmonds did. I’m just so uncertain about… I don’t know… I just still sometimes feel like I’m stuck. Like I’m circling the drain, but then I get mad at myself because it’s over.”
“The danger’s over. But you said it yourself—you’re dealing with change. With grief, something that you haven’t really had the chance to fully allow yourself to process.” Henley leaned forward. “But I get the feeling we’ve shifted the conversation away from what happened in that cabin to something else.”
Shay stared down at her tea. “Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone in a few weeks? Like the kind of love that roots deep? The kind of love that can be trusted and lasts forever?”
Henley didn’t answer right away.
Shay glanced up. “I don’t mean crushes or flings. I mean something that catches hold in your bones.”
“Moose,” Henley said simply.
Shay’s lips parted in a quiet laugh. “Yeah. Moose.”
Henley leaned forward. “Tell me what scares you.”
“I’m not scared of him,” Shay said quickly. “That’s not it. I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone. It’s just—how fast it happened. How certain I am. That kind of certainty should take time, right? I mean, I didn’t think too hard on it—but thenI was kidnapped and held at gunpoint and my mind is still somewhat not matching my heart, you know?”
“I know. But sometimes the right person walks in and time stops needing to matter.” Henley tilted her head. “The real question is—are you afraid because you’re waiting for it to disappear? Or because it’s finally real? And Moose is standing still. He’s not vanishing.”
Shay’s throat tightened.
Henley didn’t press. She never did.
“I think,” Shay said slowly, “it’s that… I’ve spent so much of my life believing I was someone else. That my story was one thing when it wasn’t. Moose came along at a time when everything was unraveling. And instead of stepping back, he stepped in. He didn’t just save me. He gave me a place to land and he never tries to change me. Or tell me what to think or how to feel. When I have a nightmare, he’s just kind of there, with me, telling me it’s okay when I half expect him to tell me to just get over it.”
“He’s had his share of nightmares, Shay.” Henley smiled softly. “But it sounds like he’s someone you want to build a life with.”
Shay nodded. “He wants me to come to Virginia and move in with him.”
“Is that something you think you want?” Henley held up her hand. “I’ve said this many times to you before, but I feel the need to say it again, especially because I consider Moose a friend. There are no judgments here. Your feelings and opinions are safe with me. No matter where you are in your relationship and your comfort in where you want it to go, I’m here to help you navigate it.”
“I know. I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t feel safe. I think I just wanted someone to tell me I’m not crazy for being so madly in love with someone I just met. Or feeling like I couldbuild a world around him.” Shay had always felt loved by her mother. Lake George had been a safe haven, and in some ways, it would always represent a little piece of comfort. But it wasn’t where she wanted to be. “I’ve never been to Virginia, and yet everything about it sounds awesome.” Shay smiled. “Including the damn chickens.”
Henley laughed that sweet, soft laugh of hers that always filled Shay’s chest with a calmness she couldn’t quite explain. “And what about the rest of your life?” Henley asked. “Your work? Your sense of purpose? Where do those things fit in Virginia?”
That part hurt a little more to answer. Shay swirled the tea in her cup. “I loved the idea of being a school counselor. I thought it meant paying homage to my mom. But… I don’t know if that’s what I want to do now. After everything that’s happened, I’ve been thinking…” She looked up. “What you do here—it’s different. It’s deeper. You help people crawl out of real darkness. People like Moose. Like me.”
Henley stayed quiet, letting her speak.
“I want to do that,” Shay said. “I want to go back to school. Get the training. Become a therapist. Work with survivors. With veterans. With people trying to piece themselves back together.”
“In Virginia?” Henley asked, but her smile said she already knew the answer.
Shay nodded, slower this time. “I think that’s where I belong. With Moose. And with a purpose that doesn’t just stop at the edge of a classroom.”
Henley reached for her notebook but didn’t open it. “You’ve survived things most people can’t imagine. But what’s more impressive is that you’re choosing to grow in the aftermath. That’s rare. And brave.”
“I don’t always feel brave.”
“You don’t have to,” Henley said. “You just have to keep moving forward.”
Shay exhaled, the weight in her chest easing a little.
Outside, the wind shifted again, warm and dry, brushing against the windows like a promise.
And for the first time in what felt like years, Shay believed she might just be exactly where she was meant to be.
