Page 106 of The Secret We Keep
TheurgetocallMorgan and see how she is, is burning hotter than a flame inside me. I want to know how she got on after our driving lesson. I want to know if she got the bus okay, considering she hasn’t had to catch one for the past eight weeks. More than anything, I just want to hear her voice.
Am I obsessed?
Probably.
Do I care?
Not one fucking bit.
I’ve fallen. And I’m man enough to admit that I’ve fallen hard.
But I’m not sure I can tell anyone, let alone the one person who probably should know. Because, and fuck if I can explain it, but I’m not what she needs right now. I’m not enough. Who knows, one day I might be. The more time I spend with her, the more I understand the fragility of our situation, and the harder it gets.
I tap my phone, checking if she replied to my text.
She hasn’t.
So, I reread my text to her.
You are perfect at it already
Maybe me telling her she’s perfect was too much. I knew what I was doing when I sent her that text. Knew exactly how she would read it. Is that wrong of me?
Pops reckons I shouldn’t let myself fall in love with her. News flash, old man, it’s too fucking late. One thing’s for sure, though, and that’s heartbreak is coming this way. For her and for me. Because until Morganknowsthe truth, she can’t ever be mine. And if she was, I’m not sure how long we’d have together.
Hearing Jake’s wife, Catherine, ask me a question, I look up, not actually registering what she’s saying. Her lips are moving, but my mind’s still thinking about the girl who I had pressed against me this morning before our dog walk.
“Does that make sense?”
I shake the thought of Morgan out of my head. “Yeah. I think so.”
Catherine, who agreed to meet me at such sort notice, watches me with hopeful eyes. “Making sure those around the situation know how to handle it is the right call. If she has work friends you can reach out to, I think it will help.” She waits for me to acknowledge her words of praise. “I know what I’ve told you today isn’t exactly what you want to hear, but with time, you’ll see it’s the right thing for you.”
Yeah. I hear her. Doesn’t mean I have to like what she’s saying. “Right.”
Packing up her things, Catherine stands from the table. “You have our number. You can call me anytime.”
I give her a smile and nod. “Thanks. Appreciate it.” I stand and rub a hand over my weary face.
Catherine’s the best psychologist I know. During my sessions with my councillor as part of the return-to-work process, I’ve reached out to her a few times, just to get some additional help with everything going on.
She closes her briefcase. “Don’t be too hard on yourself, Paddy. You may have found a great clinic, but this isn’t all on you to fix.”
Turning my gaze to the ground, I can’t help but feel a familiar tension creep to the back of my neck. “Then why does it feel like it is?”
I catch her small smile. “Because you care.” And with that, Catherine gives me a sympathetic pat on the shoulder before walking away.
“Hand me that.” Pops points to one of his tools sitting on top of his toolbox.
I hand it over.
“Not that one. The other one, there.”
I place what’s in my hands down before picking up what he’s after.
“For crying out loud, son.” He blows out a huge breath of air. “You’ve been helping me for weeks now. Have you learned nothing?”
I’m only helping, big man, I think to myself. “I don’t need to learn this.”
