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Sam tried not to meet Garrison's eyes. The man was far too observant, but it wasn't as though she'd lied.
She couldn't go to the rehab center with them. Their visit was about Aiden, not about her. She'd only be a burden. The problem was, how could she convince him of that without telling him the truth?
She chanced a glance in his direction, saw that he was studying her, and focused on her computer screen. "There's another place here, if you don't like that one. It looks good."
When he didn't say anything, she looked at him again, saw his lips closed in a tight line.
"Not that it's my business," he said, "but do you have other plans?"
She could lie, except he'd know. Considering how long she'd kept this secret, she'd never outright lied, and she wouldn't lie to protect herself now, either.
"Not exactly."
"You don't want to tell me."
He'd phrased it as a statement, not a question. He could tell something was wrong. What should she do? Pretend she wasn't going with them because she didn't want to? But that would be a lie, too. Even with all the tension in this house, she wanted to be here. And not just as support—though there was that. No, she wanted to be here because she cared about this man, and she cared about his son. There was nowhere she'd rather be.
Well, except maybe not as the subject of Garrison's scrutiny.
She sighed and faced him. "I have stuff to do." His steady gaze made her squirm. "Work stuff. You know."
He nodded once, slowly. "Okay. That's fine. It's not like it'll be a fun trip."
"I wish...I do want to go."
He lifted those expressive eyebrows again.
She didn't want to tell him the truth. They'd been getting so close, and what would he think of her? Probably that she needed medication. Therapy. She should go to some inpatient facility, too. And wouldn't that be fun for him, to have both Aiden and her in an institution? Except he'd support Aiden. Why would he bother with her? Why would anybody?
She closed her eyes. Her faith had convinced her she was worthy of love and, most of the time, she believed that. She was valuable and precious, a child of God. Even if she felt like someone's idiot cousin.
Garrison hadn't treated her that way, though. He'd liked her, from the start, and he still liked her enough to invite her into his tragedy, to share his darkest moments with her.
And here she was, holding back.
She swallowed, prayed for help, for words, and opened her eyes.
He was watching her. Of course he was. His expression looked...guarded. And maybe a little hurt.
"I have this problem." Her hands shook. Her stomach churned. She crossed her arms. "I have some anxiety issues."
He waited for her to continue, but she was scrambling to find the right words, a way to say this without sounding like the nutcase she obviously was.
He ran his hands over his short hair. "So, going with us will cause you anxiety?"
"Not being with you. That's fine. It's the...going."
"What do you mean?"
"It's better than it used to be. I'm working through it. For a while, I didn't like to leave my house. And now I can go all over Nutfield. And there are even some places in Epping..."
She let her voice trail off. She could see by the way his eyes widened that he was shocked enough. What would he say if he heard the rest of it?
"What do they call that? Agoraphobia?"
She nodded. For some reason, the label bothered her. Stupid, she knew. She and her counselor had beaten that horse to death, but Sam knew what her problem with the label was—pride. Who wanted to be labeled with anything? Wasn't she more than just an agoraphobic? She was a real estate investor and landlord and decorator and home remodeler. She was a Christian, a daughter, a sister, a friend. She didn't want to be defined by her mental illness.
And what was the solution? Overcome it.
She was trying. She'd made strides. Years before, she hadn't wanted to leave her house. But she'd forced herself to get help. And now, look at all she could do.
Garrison took her hand. "I'm sorry. All those times I tried to talk you into coming to Long Island to see me."
"You didn't know. I should have been honest with you."
He squeezed her hand. "I just thought you didn't like me as much as I liked you."
"Oh." Heat rose to her cheeks. "I did. Do. But..." Her words were all jumbled. He had liked her, but did he still? Did he, now that he knew she was crazy?
She could hear Marlene's voice in her head. Her counselor would say, You're not crazy. You're just imperfect, like the rest of us.
Easy for Marlene to say. She'd never freaked out and thought she was having a heart attack during a trip to the mall. She'd never been rushed to the hospital thinking she was dying only to be told she had an anxiety disorder.
After that episode, Sam had vowed she'd never put herself in that position again. She'd kept that promise, and she'd managed to hide her fears. Most people had no idea she had a problem. The mask she'd worn looked so normal, so healthy.
And now Garrison knew the truth.
"You seem confident," Garrison said. "And you're obviously able to go a lot of places, or else how would you be able to do all you do?"
She kept her gaze on the computer screen in front of her. "I've been working on it. I've gotten to where I can go anyplace in Nutfield. And to the Walmart in Epping, as long as I go when it's not crowded. And there's a Lowe's there. There are some furniture stores not too far. When I need something I can't buy nearby, I just order it online."
"So... It's not that bad, really. If you have to go somewhere—"
"My contractor went with me to a lot of those places the first few times. I told him the truth from the start, and he's been very helpful."
Garrison frowned and let go of her hand. "So glad to hear you have someone you can rely on."
His tone sounded anything but glad. She realized with a little jolt that he was jealous. She couldn't help the smile. "My contractor's in his seventies. He reminds me of my grandfather."
Garrison blew out a breath. "Oh, good. I was picturing one of those guys from HGTV."
"Older than Bob Villa with a beer gut like a beach ball."
Garrison's laugh filled the room. "That helps. Thanks."
She laughed with him, and relief filled her. She'd told him the truth, and he hadn't run. That was something.
Garrison sliced a piece of cheese, paired it with a cracker, and popped it in his mouth. He watched her while he chewed. When he'd swallowed and sipped his water, he asked, "So how come you trust your contractor to take you places, but you don't trust me?"
"It's not that. What if I have an anxiety attack? You and Aiden don't want to deal with that. You need to focus on him, not worry about me."
"Does it happen often, these anxiety attacks?"
She knew what he would say if she told him. "They can happen at any time."
"That's not what I asked."
"I have no control over them. They just come on like...like a hurricane. Except you can see those coming. More like an earthquake."
"And when was the last time you experienced one of those earthquakes?"
She sighed. "It's been a while."
"Define a while."
"Years. It's been years, but that's because I'm careful."
"When you went to Epping with your contractor?"
She shook her head. "It was fine. But I felt safe because he was with me."
"I see."
She grabbed his hand. "Not that I wouldn't feel safe with you. That's not at all what I meant."
"Right."
"But it's not worth the risk."
His nod was slow, like he was just figuring something out. He shifted away from her, focused on the screen again. "I understand."
She thought back, realized how her words must have sounded. "Not worth it for you to take the risk that I might freak out in front of Aiden and ruin your time together. I would take the risk." She touched the back of his hand. "I would take the risk for you. But—"
"You're saying you would come, but you don't want to embarrass us. Is that it?"
"Exactly."
"Then it's settled. You'll come."
No. No, she couldn't. She'd lose it and embarrass herself and Garrison and Aiden. This would be hard enough for them. She didn't need to add to the awkwardness by having a panic attack. What would Garrison think when he saw it? What would Aiden think?
Aiden was the answer.
"Okay." She pushed back in her chair, too antsy to sit. "Okay, I'll go with you, but only after we ask Aiden and explain my condition to him. If he's on board with taking a crazy person along, then I'll go."