Shadows of You (Lost & Found #4)(108)

But I didn’t want that. Emerson and his husband, Adrian, had done more than enough for me over the past five years—more than anyone should have to. And they weren’t exactly rolling in it.

They were both teachers in Chicago. They’d met in grad school and had fallen head over heels for each other. My parents had already been displeased about Em’s career choice, but when he told them he was marrying a man, they’d cut him off completely.

As if I’d summoned evil by simply thinking about it, my phone dinged.

Mother



I called Emerson’s apartment. He said you weren’t there. Where are you, Halston?





I worried my bottom lip as I gripped my arm, my fingers tapping out a beat.

Me



I have a job interview.





Not a lie. I did have an interview. It was just hours away from where she thought I was.

Mother



What kind of job? I thought we agreed that the art world was your future. You know I have connections in several important galleries. That’s where you should be putting your focus.





I stared down at the phone, my vision going a little blurry. My fingertips tingled, a telltale sign I was headed for a panic attack.

No. Not today.

I focused on the space around me. Five things you can see.

“Nightstand. Lamp. Pillow. Book. Water bottle.”

I took a deep breath, and the tingling abated a smidge. Four things you can hear.

I listened carefully, picking up the faint strains of more than a few things. “Traffic. A door. The TV. A faucet dripping.”

Three things you can feel.

“Slippers. Sweater.” I let my hand drop to the bed. “Comforter.”

Two things you can smell.

“Musty.” I strained to smell anything beyond the old motel room. “Pine.”

Something about that hint of wood gave me a sense of peace, pushing back the panic trying to grab hold.

One final long breath escaped my lungs. I stared at the phone. If I got this job, maybe I would finally be brave enough to change my number and be done with her—with them.

My cell rang in my hand, making me jump. I cringed, expecting my mother’s number to flash across the screen. The pressure in my chest eased as I took in Emerson and that familiar Chicago area code.

Panic quickly followed when I saw that it was a video call. I scanned the room, looking for the best place to accept the call, a spot where he wouldn’t instantly be on alert that I was staying somewhere he wouldn’t consider safe.

I sat on the bed, kicking off my slippers. The headboard seemed pretty standard and undamaged.

Swiping my finger across the screen, I forced a bright smile. “Em.”

His familiar face greeted me. His blond hair was a few shades darker than my nearly white locks, but our gray eyes were practically identical. Unfortunately, worry filled his now. “Mom called.”

I winced.

He sighed. “I thought I’d beat her to you.”

One corner of my mouth pulled up. “She wants to know why I’m not going on interviews with the galleries she suggested.”

Emerson groaned. “Maybe because you think the gallery world is as interesting as watching paint dry?”

I grinned, the action easing some of the tension thrumming through me. On the drive out here, everything inside me had spun, constricting tighter and tighter. By the time I reached Washington, I’d felt like a spool of fishing line.

My brother studied me for a moment. “Are you okay? I could come out there. And you know you can always come back here.”

“Em—”

“I mean it. You’re our family. We love you more than anything. It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

I let out a slow breath, tracing one of the flowers on the comforter with my finger. “You’re starting your own family. You need the space to do that.”

Emerson and Adrian’s apartment was nice but not exactly spacious. It was crowded with the three of us, no matter how much I tried to stay out of their way. And if you added a baby into that mix, it would be too much.

“Adrian and I talked. There are a few suburbs we could move to—”

“No.” My voice was stronger than I’d heard it in a long time. “You love the city. The energy. The people. The food. You’re not moving to the ‘boring ol’ suburbs’ as you call them because of me.”

Em loved city life in a way that I never had. I’d always been partial to our family’s vacation home a few towns from here. The mountains had always made me feel like I could breathe and had the freedom to be who I truly was.

After my ordeal, everything set off my anxiety. Loud noises, crowded spaces. It didn’t make living in a city easy. I’d worked hard on all my triggers, but that didn’t mean I didn’t long for the peace of the mountains.

Emerson’s expression gentled. “I’m just not sure it’s healthy for you to be back there. There are a million places you could consider living. Illinois has plenty of lake communities—places that are only a couple hours’ drive from us.”

I heard what he didn’t say: Places where they could get to me quickly if I had a meltdown from being on my own.

I pressed my lips together, biting the bottom one as I tried to choose my words carefully. “I want to face it.”