I’m almost back to the light-rail stop before I finally give myself permission to look at Tyler’s message.
And my heart nearly stops.
I call him, but he doesn’t answer. No surprise. He’s at practice. Morning skate. Team time. Whatever they call it.
And since I can’t get ahold of him, I go down my list.
I start with Veda, who gets a text. Her dad’s funeral is going viral. She should know. Someone in her circles in Richmond might notice and ask about it.
Hello, stomach dropping.
Why does Richmond still bother me?
I went, I funeral-ed, I came home with a boyfriend.
I survived. They didn’t hurt me.
But I’m still breaking out in a cold sweat.
So, my next move is to call Kami.
She has experience with the limelight. Not only were she and Nick featured in a Valentine’s Day promo shoot for the Thrusters last year that aired on the video boards at the arena during the game, but they were also covered on a national news channel for a feature about the personal lives of hockey players.
Forty minutes later, we’re seated at the Cod Pieces franchise closest to her veterinary practice. I don’t know the crew here, and that’s probably for the best.
“Is this all going to blow over without me getting named and Muff Matchers coming into it?” I ask her over fried fish once she’s skimmed the gossip article on my phone.
“Probably. I heard Liv Daniels is having a fling with a mystery man, so Daisy Carter Kincaid’s brother-in-law dating a normal person shouldn’t be interesting for long.”
I don’t answer.
Kami squeezes my arm. “Did you want the attention?”
The question makes sense. On one hand, it’s free advertising if I’m identified.
But I don’t want it.
And it’s not the world-wide public attention that has me frowning. It’s the local attention. “I don’t want anyone digging into why I left medical school,” I whisper.
There’s freedom in Tyler knowing. It’s an unexpected gift to feel so comfortable in knowing my secret is safe with him, plus his complete support and lack of judgment make me feel like everything’s okay. Or if not okay, better than it was before, even if I still get the cold chills and shakes at thinking about ever going back to Richmond. They’re less chilly and shaky now. Like maybe I’ve been holding on to the shame and the guilt and the whole big secret for too long, when really, nothing was nearly as guilt- and shame-inducing as I’ve been telling myself it is.
I haven’t even told my therapist that part of my story. We talk more about my parents and my feelings of inadequacy at being a normal adult with a normal job after such a big failure.
But Tyler knowing is different from the world at large knowing.
I am not ready for the phone calls and emails and questions I’d get.
I probably won’t ever be. It’s not really anyone else’s business.
Kami leans closer. “You’re not worried your clients would dump you over something that happened years ago, are you?”
I start to shake my head no, then stop.
Am I?
“Tyler’s really mad at my mom,” I hear myself say.
Kami doesn’t blink at the subject shift. “Why?”
“I think he thinks she’s done a lot of things to make me feel insecure in who I am and what I look like.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“Probably like you feel about thinking you’re the dumb one in your family?”
Kami’s not dumb. She made it through vet school and she’s saved Rufus’s life more than once. But her brother and sister are uber smart, and I know it’s always bothered her when they nerd out and she can’t keep up.
She drops her gaze to my chest. Pretty sure she’s not making a comment on how big my boobs are, but more that I’m hiding them under a massive Thrusters hoodie.
And yes, it’s Tyler’s, and no, I won’t stop borrowing his clothes until he makes me.
They smell like him.
I like it. This might not last long. I’m YOLO-ing while I can.
Plus, I was screening someone for Brianna an hour ago, and so it was important to dress as close as she would for a date.
“You think I wouldn’t have body issues if my parents hadn’t waved their own unhealthy relationships with the human shape in my face my whole life?” I guess.
“Things get rooted deep when you’re little. I know my dad never meant for me to feel dumb, but I overheard him telling my mom how much he loved being able to talk to Atticus about particle physics when I was in seventh or eighth grade, and I internalized that as I love my children who are smarter more than I love my children who don’t grasp physics concepts. It was wrong—of course my dad loves me, and he didn’t say it maliciously or to hurt anyone, and since Atticus is older, of course he grasped more complicated concepts before I was mentally capable of doing the same—but that doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel inferior for not being able to talk to him about his job the same way my brother could.”
“She doesn’t mean to hurt me.”
“But she still does. And don’t let your dad off the hook. He knew your mom was self-conscious, and he called her names anyway.”
I stare at my fried fish.
It’s delicious.
I totally get why Brianna wanted to lick it. And why Tyler eats it when he’s stressed.
And I can’t finish it, both because I’m thinking of how it will look on my hips, and also what it will do to my arteries.
But the weird part is that for once, I might actually be thinking more about my arteries.
Possibly Tyler defending my body was very, very good for me.
But why did it take him saying something my therapist has been trying to explain to me for years for it to sink in?
Am I putting his opinions on a pedestal because he gave me an orgasm?
Or did I have to have an orgasm for the message to sink in?
Which came first, me or my possibly improving self-image?
“Mom charged her boudoir shoot to my credit card and maxed it out,” I tell the filet. It’s easier than telling Kami, and I don’t want to think about my self-image anymore.
“Again?” she gasps.
It wasn’t a boudoir shoot last time—it was her buying into a pyramid scheme for herbal supplements—but I know that’s not the important part. “My card got declined when we got to Richmond. Tyler had to pay for our hotel room. And then dinner. And all the gas. And he didn’t complain once and he glared at me like I was insulting his manhood when I told him I’d pay him back.”
“I don’t think Tyler’s the type who thinks a man has to pay for everything. I think he’s more the type to help a friend in need and he doesn’t take thank you well.”
“I know, it’s just…you do it, because we’re family. And Veda did it for Muff Matchers because we were so tight in med school and she knows—anyway, we have history. Tyler and I—we don’t.”
“So this past year was nothing?”
“We were harmlessly flirting.”
“You weren’t also becoming friends?”
My cheeks are getting hot. “We were making friends.”
“And now?”