They hugged as I went on out to the car. Avery caught up with me a few minutes later, seeming to be in a better mood. "All good?"

She nodded. "I think so. Better anyway. Sometimes that's all you can manage."

"With Dr. Reid's help, our scope will improve." I said it like I believed it, not just for her but for me, too.

Maybe I wasn't in a hurry to tell people I was getting help, but I wasn't ashamed of it. On the way home, I drove slowly, avoiding the worst of the billowing gusts. I was a little worried about Happy, but when I parked in our driveway, she was bouncing up and down in front of the door. Thank goodness she had the sense to come in from the cold, if she was playing in the backyard earlier.

Inside, I knelt and hugged her, rubbing my hands over her sides. "Who's a good girl, huh? Who's a good girl?"

"Is it me?" Avery poked the back of my head.

"Obviously. People in Sharon may not agree, about you or me, but we're f.u.c.king wonderful, better all the time."

"Would it freak you out if I said I love you?" She crouched down on the other side of Happy, smiling at me with such vulnerability that I couldn't joke.

"Not if I'm allowed to say it back. I couldn't go down this road with anyone but you."

She pushed out a breath as I hugged her. "I'm scared, but I want to feel better."

"Me, too." I wanted to be someone who didn't melt down over small things. Deep in my heart, I imagined seeing Rob again, rebuilt like The Bionic Woman: stronger, faster, smarter. Well, I'd settle for stronger. To follow where he'd gone-to live in his world-I couldn't s.p.a.ckle over my problems and call it good. Before, I couldn't even imagine doing that. But now that I'd taken the first steps, I wanted Rob back, no matter what it took. First I had to ID my triggers and learn how to defuse the fear. Dr. Reid could get me there in time. With her history, Avery might have more work to do, but I wouldn't let her quit before she healed.

Our future might not be a.s.sured, but like a true video game geek, I was ready to buckle on my armor, take up my +5 vorpal sword, and do battle.

Too bad the dragon I have to slay lives inside my head.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX.

The holidays completely sucked without Rob. I missed him more with every pa.s.sing day. But I had a nice Christmas with Stuart and Mom, who cooked a full-on feast for the first time in years. I sang carols and drank eggnog, opened presents and pretended I didn't have a hole where my heart should be. When cla.s.ses started in January, I didn't even care about the rampant s.e.xism anymore. I just quietly turned in projects and ignored everything else.

Over time, my sessions with Dr. Reid helped.

Every two weeks, I shared a little more and she responded with constructive techniques to help manage my emotions. Breathing helped; so did relabeling my responses-like instead of thinking, c.r.a.p, I'm freaking out, I subst.i.tuted, Wow, I'm really excited about this. She also reminded me that anxiety was natural, and that I wasn't abnormal for feeling this way. Dr. Reid also pointed out that I needed to make realistic corrections to my expectations and stop creating exaggerated mental failure scenarios.

The thing she said that made the most difference, however, was when she told me, "Understand that there's nothing wrong with you, and that it isn't your fault."

Before I heard that, there'd been a sharp sliver at the heart of me, constant pain and shame, because I just couldn't be normal. I wasn't trying for that anymore; I just wanted to be happy.

When my mom asked me to go with her to a work thing because Stuart was at a conference in Lincoln, I said no problem. I didn't know many of her coworkers and I could remember a time, not too long ago, when I'd be hunched over in a bathroom, horrified by the idea of meeting so many people, making small talk, dealing with their looks and wondering if they could tell there was something wrong with me. Tonight, I wasn't looking forward to it, but I was okay, stronger, like I'd hoped.

"Thanks for coming along last minute. I know you prefer to have some mental prep time for stuff like this." Mom looked beautiful in a fitted blue dress, wearing a lapis lazuli necklace Stuart had bought for her in Hawaii.

"It's fine. I'm doing better." Before, I never would've said that, never would've admitted to her that there was a problem. I'd have deflected with a joke and changed the subject. To me, it felt like progress. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you snap out of it?"

"The depression?" She fumbled the keys for a few seconds.

"Yeah."

We never really talked about things like this. Like Avery and Jillian, we had more of a don't-ask, don't-tell policy. So I thought maybe she wouldn't answer because she got in the car and after a few seconds, I did the same.

But as she put it into Reverse, she said, "I got help. It's not something I enjoy admitting, the fact that I didn't have the energy to do anything. Or that I was thinking maybe the world would be better off without me. But I couldn't go on like I was. It took me a while before I didn't feel like there must be something seriously wrong with me because I couldn't pull myself up by my bootstraps and snap out of it. Some people can. I wasn't one of them."

"I'm seeing someone, too."

"I thought you might be. But it would be hypocritical of me to make you talk when I don't. So we muddle along."

I thought about that as she drove to the retirement dinner. A senior staffer was retiring after forty years of service, so the company was throwing a party to honor him. For me, it was such a welcome change not to have the whispers in the back of my head about everything that could go wrong. That wasn't to say they were gone for good, but I knew how to manage them better now.

"Maybe we should try harder...to be honest with each other."

"Maybe. It's hard to know where to start. Possibly with Rob?" She cut me a look as she parked, and I didn't bother to hide my flinch.

His name still had the power to tie me in knots; though I didn't regret sending him off to see what he could do in Toronto, I hated the fact that I'd hurt him, even more when I contemplated how much I still loved him. The pain was still sharp-nothing about it had faded, and matters weren't improved by living in the house we'd restored together. I'd never told my mom the whole story, only that he got a job out of town, and we were done.

So instead of the usual chitchat over dinner, I told her everything, including what I'd done and why. She'd obviously been taking communication lessons from whoever she was talking to professionally because she didn't tell me I was stupid or that I didn't have the right to make that decision for him. Because the thing was, if Rob hadn't wanted to go, deep down, he never would've let me drive him away. I knew how stubborn he could be. So I stepped into the villain's shoes and gave him a way to go without feeling bad for leaving me behind. Which sucked for me, but I didn't doubt it was right for him, even now.

"Do you miss him?" she asked.

"Every day. At this point, I'm used to it. But...in a way, I was using him as a crutch, hiding from life. Running home was an avoidance tactic, not a coping one, and I was really in no shape to sustain a relationship."

"I'm glad you said it." She offered a half smile and raised her winegla.s.s. "But you're into your third semester here, making excellent grades, still working at the dealership, no problems living on your own. That's fantastic."

I sighed. "I don't need you to pat me on the head, Mom. Verbally or otherwise."

"Then why are we having this serious talk?"

Leaning over, I whispered, "Because the people at our table are boring?"

She glanced around and conceded with a shrug. Before I could say anything else, the guest of honor appeared onstage and gave a rambling speech of thanks, wherein he reminisced about the old days and asked four times for someone named Connie. Then they gave him a gold watch and helped him down the steps.

"Huh. And to think Stuart missed all of this," I muttered.

Dinner was decent, though, and we were out of the hall by nine. Mom dropped me off at the house-with Rob gone, I still didn't think of it as home. Avery was still up, watching TV with Happy.

"Have you finished carousing already?"

"I haven't decided yet. Is there rabble to rouse?"

"Not much, even on Sat.u.r.day night. You grew up here, you know the drill."

Nodding, I collapsed on the couch and kicked off my heels. "I did okay. No flares, no sweating, no nervous vomiting or heart palpitations. You?"

"No urges to trash cars or punch men who ogle me." We fist-b.u.mped, and then I got up.

"I'm making hot chocolate. Want some?"

"Sure." Avery had gained a little weight since we started living together, maybe ten pounds. Before, she didn't eat as a silent protest to her father, but since he'd rather have a compliant, starving daughter, he didn't care about her food issues. She was working on that with Dr. Reid, too.

To celebrate another good day, I put marshmallows in the cocoa. We toasted and I sipped at it, watching the last of whatever movie this was, something violent, my definite preference. To look at me, you'd think I loved girlie films, but give me action or sci-fi any day. Once it ended, I stood up and stretched.

"Has Happy gone out recently?"

She considered, then shook her head. "Not since five or so."

"I'm on it."

"Thanks. I'll do the dishes in the morning."

Calling the dog, I jogged to the kitchen and went out the back door, luring her with a treat since it was pretty brisk out. I wished I'd jammed my feet in some shoes as I hopped back and forth, waiting for Happy to do her business. Afterward, I fed her the biscuit and rushed back in.

"Okay, I'm off to kill stuff for an hour or so before bed."

She raised a brow. "With anyone else, those words would alarm me. 'Night, Lauren."

I flicked a hand at her as I went up the stairs. Happy followed me. Though she liked Avery, she was still my dog. She c.o.c.ked her head at me as I hesitated in the threshold of the bedroom I'd shared with Rob. Months later, and it still hit me every time, like a punch in the sternum, that he was gone and not coming back, that I'd made it happen.

"I miss him," I whispered to her as I closed the door behind us. "What about you?"

She sighed at me like that was a dumb question. A non-dog-lover would question how I anthropomorphized her, but I swore she understood me. Happy leaped up on Rob's side and turned around three times before settling down. The sheets had been changed and washed a hundred times, more maybe, but I wished I had the luxury of crawling into bed and breathing him in. I'd never admit how long I waited before swapping the linens after he left; now there was only Happy and me scenting the bed covers, along with touches of detergent and fabric softener.

I put on my pajamas and sat down at my computer. There were always cla.s.s projects, code to write, barbs to respond to from b.u.t.theads in my data structures cla.s.s. But I backslid a little and checked for Rob Conrad Google Alerts before deciding what game to play or doing something more productive, like finishing a paper for IT ethics.

There wasn't a ton about him; he wasn't an A-list celebrity, but I found a new photo posted to a Toronto-centric site. Headline: Internet Sensation Rob Conrad Enjoys Time Off with a Lucky Lady. Is There Romance Behind the Scenes at Hot Property?

My chest ached as I read a short blurb about the show, then scrolled down to see him waving to the press with Annette Caldwell beside him. The picture was dated two days ago, and the caption offered the usual c.r.a.p about him being really sweet to his fans. I had noticed that they were shooting promos for the show and posting them to Rob's channel, professional quality unlike the vids we made, but these were still called At Home with Rob. His idea, not mine. I touched the screen lightly, closing the browser tab, but it felt like goodbye, as well.

For an hour or so, I stabbed monsters online, but my heart wasn't in it, so I brushed my teeth and went to bed. Some nights it was hard to fall asleep for thinking about Rob, wondering what he was doing, if he was happy. I'd really like the answer to the last question, but I couldn't become the lame girl obsessively grilling Nadia for updates. She told me what she knew as she learned it, and it would have to be enough.

The following Monday, I found a package waiting when I got home from work, left by the UPS man. I took it inside and set it down, pausing to pet the dog, who was so excited to see me. Then I got a knife and cut the box open. Inside, I discovered my three binders, fantasies I'd written about Rob when he was like a prince from a story to me, not a real person at all. Now I knew better; I knew what he liked the best in bed and how to hurt him the most. Though I searched, there was no note.

That's the message right there.

Tears trickled down my cheeks as I hugged the binders. I'd lied when I said I had no use for these, so I was glad to have them back, even if it meant Rob didn't want them-that he skimmed the stupidity, laughed and put it aside, moved on to more important things. There would always be room in my heart for dreams of him, wrapped around the memories that chased me in and out of each day like weary ghosts, reminding me of how sweet life was before. Yet even with the pain, I couldn't regret my decision.

It had been a while since I'd wept over Rob, but today I couldn't help it. Happy eyed me and then nudged against my legs, so I knelt down to hug her. Then I took the past upstairs and tucked it on the bookshelves Rob had built. Everything in this room had his imprint all over it, and if I had the right, I'd ship him the furniture, start fresh. I couldn't live here forever; I knew that, but I couldn't bring myself to discuss looking for a new place with Avery because it would mean contacting Rob, other than the check I mailed once a month. d.a.m.n, even the utilities were still in his name... Trusting of him. If I were an a.s.shole, I could stop paying the bills and ruin his credit. Which I'd never do-and maybe deep down, he knew that. Regardless, I had to make a move; things couldn't continue like this.

I just couldn't decide what to do.

But there was one step I could take immediately. I got on my laptop and pinged Nadia, stifling a burst of glee when she answered right away. "Hey! Sorry we couldn't make it for Christmas. I miss you. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. No. Well, gainfully employed anyway." Still paying Rob's mortgage, with Avery's help. That seemed so strange and backward.

"Have you talked to Rob?"

"Nope. How's Mr. Hot Ginger?"

"I'm right here, I can hear you," a male voice called.

A high-pitched question: "Why does she call you that?"

"c.r.a.p, did I call at a bad time?"

"We're trying to get Sam ready for bed. Can I get back to you?"

"Sure, no problem."

Even if she was busy, at least I'd made the effort. I could feel good about that. This felt like closing the circle, trying to be a good friend again. In that same vein, I tried Angus next, but he didn't show online. I left a text message on his Skype account, then stared at Max's icon. Despite the awkwardness between us, I hadn't deleted him.

And he's signed on.

Taking a deep breath, I requested a chat, then I bit my lip, wondering if he even wanted to break the long silence. After thirty interminable seconds, the video connection went live, revealing a dark-haired guy with eyes so dark you could hardly see the pupils. He was lean and handsome in a scruffy sort of way. Just now, he had on sweats and a T-shirt, s.h.a.ggy hair tumbling into his eyes.

"Long time, no talk," he said.

"Yeah." I took a breath. "I know it's been a long time, and maybe you don't think about it anymore, but...really, I just want to say sorry."

"About what?" Cool, almost icy. I couldn't tell if he'd really forgotten.

"That night. Everything, actually. I just want you to know that it really was me, not you. I was kind of...broken."

"Are you better now?" he asked.

"Getting there."

"That's all I need to know, then."

We talked a little more, mostly about Nadia and Angus. When he said he had to go, I felt okay. At least Max wasn't one of my regrets anymore.

The second week in March, Krista called us over to meet her man. Since Kenji had come home, she'd skipped the last couple of girls' nights. They had a lot of lost time to make up for. For the moment, they were all living with her mom, but I didn't see that situation lasting long. Krista and Kenji had to be eager for some privacy-well, as much as Naomi allowed.

She had dinner ready when Avery and I got there. Jill was the last to arrive. Kenji was a good-looking guy with nice hair, a little on the short side, and he obviously adored Krista and Naomi. The whole time we were at the house, he never put his daughter down, not when she had to be changed, when she spit up on him, or when she smacked him in the nose. His smile never faltered.

"So what's your secret?" I asked, once the table had been cleared and Naomi was napping in Kenji's arms.

"To what?" Krista sat against her fiance's side, one hand possessive on his thigh.

"Making it work. Everyone I've ever talked to who tried long-distance said it was horrible and things fell apart pretty fast."

Jillian perked up. She was still seeing Ben, who wasn't around nearly as much as she'd like. Traveling to sell office equipment wasn't remotely the same as deployment, but I could tell she was interested in the answer. "I could use some tips for sure."

Thoughtful, Krista tipped her head for a few seconds, glancing at Kenji, who leaned over to kiss her forehead. Then she answered, "It was awful when I'd hear reports of artillery or IEDs near his posting. And there's no question that sometimes I got so lonely, I'd wonder if this could possibly be worth it. Then I'd imagine life without him and the answer was always yes."