Making Me Sane (Sanity Book 2)

by Lindsay Paige

  Furious doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel. I wish I could fight this battle for her, but it’s not like I can go into her work and do anything. All I can do this second is hold her hair and rub her back. I don’t like seeing her this distressed either.

  “Go shower and we’ll talk afterward,” I tell her when she’s done.

  She shakes her head. “I don’t want to.”

  “What do you want then?”

  “I want you and me in the recliner.”

  I can’t deny her that. After she comes back from brushing her teeth, we’re situated in my recliner. “You need to report it.”

  She groans. “What if I lose my promotion? What if they don’t believe me? You know he’s going to say it never happened.”

  “You’ve said yourself your boss is awesome. Tell her. A promotion isn’t worth that.”

  “I know. I just hate this entire thing.”

  “Are you doing okay? He didn’t try anything else?”

  “No. I grabbed my stuff and ran out of the room once I pushed him away. I’m okay, I guess. He just had this lethal look in his eyes, and I was shaken up. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

  So, I hold her until she’s hungry. She might not want to talk about it, but she’s still thinking about it. All her anxiety tells are present and in action. At least she seems willing to talk to her boss. I don’t want her working with him any more than she wants to. When she does take a shower, my phone rings with a call from my father.

  “Hey, Dad. How’s it going?”

  “Good. How are things there?”

  “It’s been a rough day here.” I go on to explain what happened with Brittany. “She’s not looking forward to having to tell her boss, but I think she’s going to.”

  “Make sure she does, son. No one should have to put up with something like that and she shouldn’t be forced to work with him.”

  “That’s basically what I told her.”

  “Good.” He tells me more about what’s happening back home and we hang up around the time Brittany comes back from her shower.

  “How’s Clark and Amy?” she asks.

  “I didn’t hear any complaints or bad news, so they’re doing well.”

  “That’s good.” She sits in my lap and I recline us back. “Let’s have lunch tomorrow because I might need you if things go sideways at work.”

  “Done. We can go to your favorite fried pickles restaurant.”

  “That’s perfect. Thank you.”

  “Welcome. I’m sure things will be fine, so try not to worry about it too much, okay?”

  She sighs. “I’m trying.”

  It’s all I can ask of her, so it’ll have to be good enough. She has trouble sleeping, tossing and turning, and she wakes up only to rush to the bathroom to vomit. I make her take a panic pill to help calm her down. I wish I could go to work with her, but that’s not an option. She’s still a wreck when she leaves for work.

  From the time I get to work and until it’s time to meet Brittany for lunch, the clock slows down and drags. I’m standing outside the restaurant, waiting for Brittany who is already five minutes late, when I see her. She’s smiling. Thank god, she’s smiling. My own breath of relief leaves me and I feel the built-up tension leave my body. Maybe I was as stressed out and nervous as she was.

  “Good news?” I ask when she reaches me.

  “Very good news. Let’s go inside and order and then I’ll tell you all about it.”

  We’ve been here so often that the waitress recognizes us. She double checks that we’re not trying anything new today and then puts in our order.

  “What happened?” I ask as the waitress walks away.

  “Well, I almost chickened out, but my boss called me into her office. She thought I seemed on edge, so she was checking to see that everything was okay. I spilled my guts. Turns out, that’s not the first complaint about him, so he was fired. I’ll be working with someone else for the remainder of the project, so there’s still a chance I can move up the ladder.”

  “Told you it would all be fine.”

  She rolls her eyes. “That why you were grabbing your neck until you saw me?”

  “I still don’t like that I don’t realize I’m doing that until you have to point it out to me.”

  “It’s payback for all the times you’d glance at me squeezing my wrist,” she laughs. Her phone buzzes on the table and she sighs. “Looks like it’s time for another lunch with Rebecca.”

  “Why do you keep going if you don’t want to?”

  “Because she was a good friend in college.” The waitress places our fried pickles on the table, and she immediately plucks one to pop into her mouth.

  “Yet she’s a shitty one now.”

  “I’m only giving her another chance, and considering she doesn’t reach out often, what can it hurt?”

  “I don’t want to hear about you complaining when she does something to piss you off or annoy you then,” I warn her. I’m not sure why, though. Last time, she didn’t want to talk about it and never did, but she was still in a sour mood that I had to deal with.

  “You wouldn’t listen to me rant if I needed to?” she asks, sounding completely skeptical.

  “Not about her.”

  “Yes, you would.”

  Maybe I would, but I’m not telling her that.

  Today is my thirty-third birthday. Brittany and I are lying in bed, breathing heavy, but completely satisfied. We should get up because we need to start getting ready for work here soon. I glance over at her.

  “Was that my birthday present? Can we make that an annual present?” I ask. She woke me up about two seconds before she lowered her mouth on my favorite body part. Just when I thought I couldn’t take much more, she stopped to lower herself on me. Surprise morning sex on my birthday might just be my new favorite thing in the world.

  Brittany laughs. “It was one of your presents, and maybe. No promises.”

  “We need to get up.”

  She flings the covers off of her and onto me, getting out of bed. “Then let’s get it over with. By the way, once you turn forty, I’ll officially call you old just because I can.”

  “Just know that it’ll return twofold once you get that old, so you may want to extend it to like eighty or ninety,” I call after her, making her laugh.

  This is the first birthday in a while that I’ve spent with someone. After work, we’re going out with Ben and Melissa to eat and then it’ll be bowling time. It should be fun. What I know at this point is that all my birthdays should start this way. While Brittany is in the shower, I get a phone call from Dad and Amy, who sing “Happy Birthday” to me.

  After my shower, I come out of the bathroom to find Brittany is sitting on the bed with a large rectangular present in front of her. “What you should know about me is that I’m a terrible, uncreative gift giver,” she starts. “I think you’ll like it, but overall, it might be a crummy gift, which is part of the reason I woke you up like I did. Remember that if you’re bummed by my gift.”

  “I’m sure that whatever it is, I’ll love it.” I lean down to give her a quick kiss. “I’m assuming I get to open it now?”

  “Yes.”

  I rip the wrapping paper and smile when I see what she got me—new kitchenware by a famous chef. I’ve been wanting to get myself a set, but haven’t gotten around to it.

  “Well? Do you like it? You talk about it every time we go to the grocery store, so I figured it’d be a good gift. Ben and Melissa told me gifts were overrated and I should just give you sex, but that didn’t seem right, so I had to get you something. You’re disappointed, aren’t you?”

  “Will you shut up for a minute?” I interrupt. Her mouth instantly closes. “I love it. Thank you.” I lean down to kiss her.

  “Really?”

  “I wouldn’t lie to you.”

  She grins. “Open the box.”

  I tug on the lid, ripping the tape, and open the box. On top of the styrofoam i
s an envelope. I grab it and glance at a still-grinning Brittany. “Another present?” I ask.

  She nods. “Open it.”

  The envelope isn’t sealed, so all I have to do is lift the flap. I pull out a piece of paper and open it. My eyes quickly scan the sheet. “You…how did you do this? Is this for real?” Wow. I can’t even believe it.

  “Yes, it’s for real. I figured two months is far enough out to get everything situated with work. You’ve always wanted to go, and I wanted to be the one to make it happen.”

  “We’re going to Italy?”

  “Yes,” she answers.

  “Are you okay with being late for work?”

  She frowns. “I don’t like being late, Trace. You know this.”

  I drop the paper back in the box, drop my towel, and reach for her shirt. “Not even for me? On my birthday? So I can say thanks for the awesome presents?”

  She sighs when I kiss her neck. She grabs my arms and pulls me closer, wordlessly giving me the okay. Best. Birthday. Ever.

  “Put all your laundry in the basket before you leave,” I holler the next week as I open the door to leave for work. I’m washing laundry when I get home and Trace has a knack for not putting his laundry in the freaking basket. He kills me sometimes because his kitchen has to be spotless, and he likes for everything to be put away, but heaven forbid he put his dirty clothes away.

  “I will,” he shouts back.

  With that I leave for work. Today is going to be a busy day. We’re finalizing details on the project I’ve been working on. My new teammate, Tim, is great and nowhere near as creepy as he who shall not be named. Then I’m off to lunch with Rebecca, who said it was urgent and necessary, before heading to my regular session with Mrs. Potter. I’ve been trying to push off lunch with Rebecca, just because if it’s going to be like last time where she talks the entire time about herself, I don’t want to deal with it. But she swears she needs to meet with me, so I’m going.

  Work is busy and the time flies by. Melissa stops by my desk.

  “Lunch?”

  “Sorry, I have to meet with a friend from college. Want to go tomorrow?”

  She sighs like I’m inconveniencing her and I smile. “Yeah, I guess that will work.”

  “It’ll have to.”

  “Are we still on for a girls’ night for your birthday? Trace doesn’t have any plans for you?”

  I shake my head. “He said if that’s what I wanted to do, he didn’t care. He’s taking me out for lunch and he’ll give me my presents once I come home from hanging out with you.”

  “Kinda odd that he doesn’t want to have you all to himself after what you did for his birthday. Were you inviting your friend from college for our girls’ night?”

  “Should I? I don’t think you two will mesh,” I say, ignoring what she said about Trace.

  “Then, yeah. Keep her out of it.”

  I laugh. “Will do. See you later.” I grab my purse, clock out, and leave to meet Rebecca. I’m assuming she’s having problems with Dustin again. That’s usually what an urgent meeting with her is about. She beats me to the restaurant, and I spot her easily. The waitress comes to take my drink order and when she walks away, I ask, “So, what’s going on?”

  “Trace is cheating on you,” she blurts out.

  “What? No, he’s not.” When would he have time to cheat on me? If he’s not at work, he’s with me. Anger starts to swell within me. Is she making things up to get me to break up with him?

  “I saw him Monday when I was on my lunch break. He was coming out of the restaurant with another woman. They were laughing and obviously seemed to know one another. I thought you should know.”

  I stare at her. She is making assumptions based on what she saw. Trace wouldn’t do that to me. It was probably a co-worker. He went out with old Mrs. Rumley when he was working at the university. It could be the same thing. However, Trace usually mentions if he had lunch with someone when he’s talking about his day. He didn’t mention eating with anyone earlier this week.

  “You don’t believe me,” Rebecca states.

  “No, I don’t believe Trace would cheat on me. It could’ve been a co-worker.”

  “She was pretty. Really pretty. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want Dustin going out with a hot girl, co-worker or not.”

  Yeah, but Trace has never cheated on me like Dustin has on her before. I don’t say that, though. “I trust Trace. He wouldn’t do that to me. Not to mention, the only time he would even see someone else is on his lunch break because he comes straight home after work. I don’t know who you saw, but it wasn’t a girl on the side that he’s seeing.”

  “Are you going to ask him about it?”

  “No,” I answer curtly. “Because he’s given me zero reason not to trust him and I’m not going to stir up shit in my relationship because you think he’s cheating on me. For all I know, you didn’t even see him with someone and you’re making it up. After how you tried to set Quinn and me back up because you think I’m stupid to go back to be with Trace, who knows.”

  Her jaw drops. “You think I’m lying?”

  “I don’t know. My point is Trace isn’t cheating on me.”

  “I’m trying to be a good friend by telling you what I saw!”

  “And I’m telling you that he wouldn’t do that to me!”

  Now, I’ve pissed her off. “Why? Because you’re too good to be cheated on?”

  I lean forward and quietly say, “No. But just because Dustin’s cheated on you doesn’t mean that my boyfriend will do the same to me.”

  Her eyes widen and her jaw is still hanging. She looks horrified, as if I just slapped her. “I can’t believe you just said that to me.”

  “Why? It’s true. I’ve told you that I don’t care for Dustin or how he’s treated you, but you’re still with him and I respect your choice to do that. Not all guys are jerks or cheaters. Trace isn’t anything like Dustin and he wouldn’t cheat on me.”

  She folds her arms over her chest. “At least Dustin has never walked out on me because I was too crazy for him to handle.”

  I press my lips together and narrow my eyes at her. “I’m not doing this.” I grab my purse, get up, and leave. I can’t believe her! It’s one thing to share her concerns, but it’s another thing to truly believe he’s a cheater when she has no reason to and then throw jabs at me like that. No longer hungry, I head on over to Mrs. Potter’s office and hang out in the waiting room, fuming, until it’s time for my appointment.

  “What’s bothering you today?” she asks as usual.

  I don’t even pretend this time. I recount my entire meeting with Rebecca. “The nerve she has to say Trace left me because I’m crazy! I’m not crazy! Sure, I have some mental health issues, but that does not make me crazy. It pisses me off that she would even say that. I mean, come on! The last thing I wanted to do was bring up how he’s cheated on her, but I wanted to get it through to her that Trace wouldn’t do that to me! No, I didn’t know he had lunch with a woman, but that doesn’t mean anything, if he even had lunch with some woman to start with. She could be lying. I don’t know anymore after how she tried to set Quinn and me up again.”

  “Are you going to mention any of this to Trace?”

  “No. I trust him and I don’t want him to think I don’t by asking him about it when really, Rebecca is the one who doesn’t trust him. I don’t want to rock that boat, especially when I think she’s full of shit.”

  Mrs. Potter smiles at me, but I’m not sure why.

  “What?” I ask.

  “I’m not going to lie to you, when you first told me about telling Trace you trusted him, I wondered if you were really there yet or not. After this, I believe you.”

  I roll my eyes at her. “I have no reason to lie in therapy.”

  “And yet you do on occasion when it’s something you don’t want to talk about as a means of prolonging the inevitable.” She’s still smiling, so I know she’s teasing. “Anything else you
want to discuss on the topic or are we ready to move on to your birthday?”

  “We can move on. I don’t want talk about it any more and work myself up.”

  “What are your birthday plans, and how did Trace’s birthday go, since I haven’t seen you since then?”

  “It went great. He loved his presents and we went out with Ben and Melissa. For my birthday, he’s taking me out to lunch and then I’m going out with Melissa for girl time. I’m excited.”

  Mrs. Potter tilts her head. “This is your first birthday with Trace and y’all are only going out to lunch?”

  “Yeah, but we spent his birthday together. Besides, he suggested it since I was so stressed last week. We’re getting our nails done, facials, and massages.”

  She nods and we talk about work and other little things that have been causing me some anxiety. My current meds are really good. Every day I’m thankful that I didn’t need to test out a few before I found one that would work. By the time I leave and head back to work, my chest feels light and the incident with Rebecca is far from my mind.

  However, for possibly the first time ever, I beat Trace home. I do like I said I would and get a load of laundry started. It irks me when I realize Trace never put his laundry in the basket like I told him to do. He’s not even here for me to bitch at him for it.

  “Trace is cheating on you.”

  Is that why he’s home late?

  No. Something is just causing him to be late. God, I wish Rebecca never said anything to me. I don’t need that stupid thought appearing in my head. I’m in the laundry room when Trace gets home. His current smile falls when he sees me.

  “Shit. I forgot; I took too long in the shower and was rushing out of here. I’m sorry.” He kisses me softly on the lips. “Will fried pickles make up for it? I stopped to pick up dinner on the way home. Ben held me up,” he explains.

  “Yes, fried pickles make up for it. Thanks.” I follow him into the kitchen.

  “How was lunch with Rebecca? That bad?”

  Then, I realize I’m frowning. “We’re not discussing it, and I’m not talking to her anymore. I got it all out at therapy, so let’s drop it.”

  “Which tells me how therapy was.”