Page 94 of Stalked By Shadows
“Protective,” I corrected and gave the cat a kiss on the head. “Good boy.” I stood and looked at Micah. “Sarah is really okay?”
“Yeah, she and Jared went home. She was a little dehydrated, but physically okay.”
“Does she remember anything?”
“Not really?” It was more a question than a statement.
“Like you don’t really remember anything?”
He shrugged. “It’s bits and pieces that I’m not sure if they are a dream or not. She and I are keeping in touch. I sent her a text that you were back.”
I reached out to touch his face, thinking again that he was so beautiful. Delicate bone structure, but nerves of steel. “How about you? Are you okay?”
“Maybe? Happy that you’re here, safe.”
Remembering how he explained his previous return I wondered if that had changed something between us as well. We’d barely begun to know each other, then I was gone. Would we fit anymore? “It feels like only a few days for me,” I confessed. I didn’t feel any different. “Do we fit?”
Micah studied me for a minute. “When I got back…” he paused as if debating whether or not that was the right phrasing, but continued, “Tim was bitter. I was confused, a little lost, and disoriented. He sort of went on the attack… like Lukas.”
“Protective, yet blaming.” That made sense. Normal human emotions, even if they weren’t always rational. “Is that why you didn’t fit anymore?”
“I didn’t feel exactly the same,” Micah said. He bent down to pet Jet, who seemed thrilled with the attention. “I mean I felt like me, only more aware? I’m not sure how to explain it. For a few days I tried to ignore the little things. Small signs that we didn’t fit anymore. His irritation, backhanded comments, and short tone. At first it was Tim, then it was everyone. They were placating, looking at me like I was broken. Eventually, I decided it was me who had changed and not everyone else. Now I’m not so sure.”
“Are you bitter? Angry that I was gone?”
“No. That would be silly. I don’t think you had any more control over what happened than I did.”
“Even if people told you I’d killed myself.”
“They told everyone in my family that too. That I’d done something and they hadn’t found the body. Or got lost and died of exposure. It’s how we as humans rationalize the unknown.”
“What do you think happened?” I asked, wondering if his suspicions ran in the same terrifying directions mine did.
“I think it doesn’t matter now that you’re back.”
“So we move forward like nothing happened?” I wasn’t sure I could do that. My brain was already working through a dozen scenarios, and none of them friendly.
“Will dwelling on it help either of us?”
I sighed. He was so fucking good at truth bombs. “No,” I agreed.
He nodded. “Then let’s find a new normal. What is normal for us at least.”
“Weird as we may be?”
He gave me a tiny smile. “Yes.”
“Sounds like a plan. How much crafting did you do while I was away?” I headed to the closet to look at what Micah’s anxiety might have wrought, but when I opened it, I was surprised to find it very organized. The wall of fabric was gone, likely in the bins that had been placed along the back wall. And the sections of closet rods were sorted into specific things with paper signs on each section:WIP,Done, with errors,Ready for Sale, andMicah’s collection.
“A little,” he acknowledged.
“Were the signs your doing, or Sky’s?”
“I sorted them. Sky put the signs. I think it was because I kept telling her I needed this or that put in a particular place and she couldn’t remember.”
The section that was Micah’s looked mostly new, but since the prior mess was gone, it was hard to tell. Some of them looked to be his size, but the coat I’d tried on before was there, along with a few others that looked more my size than his. The area for the shop was mostly clear, just a few bags, and a small throw. The error section was actually pretty small too, surprising me. Micah was a bit of a perfectionist, so I’d assumed he’d find lots of little errors with things.
“I cleared out stuff. Brought old projects to the shop and priced them to move to make room for new stuff.”