It’s always hard to leave Abby’s side after she’s had a panic attack. I stayed with her for as long as I could, but I needed to shower and arrange my schedule for the next couple of weeks. I sent an email to the board informing them that I’d be working away from the office for the next month. After pressing send, I regretted offering to go back if there’s an emergency. In their minds, everything related to the company is urgent. That’s not the truth. They just like to get paid for the hours they clock in during the meetings.

An email pops up almost immediately. One of the members reminds me that we’re shopping for an investment bank and preparing the initial public offering. I should be in the office, working on the documents we have to send to the banks and to the NYSE. These men are pushing me over the edge. I send an email to my lawyer. We should revise the contracts of the board members and change their roles and payments.

Mom and I argue about the company and the initial public offer every time we’re on the phone.

“If you don’t want to sell, at least stop the IPO,” Mom suggested. “The stress of going public killed your father.”

“He had a heart condition, ate poorly, and never exercised, Mom.”

“Either way, I don’t see the point of continuing something you’re not passionate about. Fire the board and put a stop to that nonsense.”

“I thought you stopped this nonsense. Why restart it again?”

After he died I put the idea on hold. There were other pressing matters, like Mom’s emotional health and a few mergers that required my immediate attention. But it’s time to continue Dad’s vision. He wanted to see his company on the market. The morning we fought about my future, he told me.

“One day, I want to turn on my computer and check the New York Stock Exchange. See those initials going to the top.”

He assured me that without me he couldn’t take Ahern Inc. where he wanted it to be. He’d never be capable of achieving his dream. This time, I won’t let him down. At any cost, this company will become what he dreamed it would before he died.

“You’re complicating everything and letting yourself down, Weston,” Mom said yesterday morning.

She’s right. It’d be easier to fire the board and transition the company into my own vision. I click on my document files and open my personal folder where I saved the drafts of the company I planned to open a couple of years back. Slowly, I open each document. The mission statement was ready, along with the competitor analysis, the financial planning, and the market research. An entire business model that took me almost a year to create sits in the cloud waiting to be deleted.

“You’re a control freak.” Sterling who is a petulant twenty-five-year-old man-child takes away my laptop.

“What’s wrong with you?” I arch an eyebrow crossing my arms.

He sets the computer close to the sink, and I pray to God that he doesn’t do anything stupid because I will make him pay. But instead of turning on the water and drowning it like he did to my Game Boy when I was nine, he just leans against the counter and crosses his arms.

“I assume that you’re here to relax—with Abby. Why in the fuck are you working?”

“That’s none of your business,” I answer and point at his dog. “Why do you have a dog?”

He can barely take care of himself. I don’t see how he can take care of another living creature.

“I’m puppy sitting,” he says, watching the chubby pup walk around the kitchen searching for crumbs. “That’s why I decided to come here for the week. My house is too dangerous for this little guy.”

Well, at least he’s responsible enough to know that his home is dangerous with all the pieces of metal he acquires at junkyards, the dried clay lying around on the floor, and the tools that are everywhere. That place isn’t safe for anyone, not even my brother. I’ve told him several times that he needs to find a studio or a new apartment. He doesn’t care one bit and just rolls with what he believes is right.

Some days I wonder what it would be like to be him. He isn’t the brattish asshole I grew up with, but he’s still selfish. He doesn’t follow the rules. Unlike me, he does whatever he wants regardless of the consequences. Live and let die is his motto. He has the means to do whatever he wants to, and for the most part, he does.

Sterling doesn’t have to prove himself to anyone. Mom and Dad loved him because he’s theirs. Although they assured me that I was just like Sterling, I tried my best to be what they wanted—and needed. I worked hard to show them my gratitude and, even when I fucked up several times, I tried my best to abide by their rules. It would’ve been so easy to forget my origins and believe that everything I had was mine to take and do what I wanted with.

“I debated between lending the pup to Abbs or coming to Tahoe,” he says as an afterthought.

Looking at the pup, I’m sure that Abby would’ve loved caring for him. She’s always saying that it’d be nice to have a dog or a cat, or both if she had more time. I miss that Abby though. The one who was free, open, and always smiling. My mission is to bring her back, and if necessary, I’ll convince her to stay here permanently. It’ll fucking hurt, but it pains me more to see her suffer.

A feeling of disappointment brews in my chest. Every fucking plan I make goes up in flames for one reason or another. I toss my head back, close my eyes, and take a deep breath. Dad, if you’re up there, send me a sign about what to do, please. He always had answers. At least, that’s how I remember him. Would he tell me to stop dreaming and dedicate my life to his company?

Enough about the company, and Abby’s breakdown. I crack my neck and stand up for a beer, offering one to my brother.

“Who are you sitting for?” I focus on my conversation with Sterling.

“For my neighbor. He’s getting married tomorrow.” He shrugs then shoots me an inquisitive gaze. “What’s up with dear Abby?”

I shake my head because I’ve never seen her this bad before. She had a nervous breakdown or a full-blown panic attack on the plane, and as we were arriving, she began heaving. I’m not sure if she caught a bug or her body is giving up after not sleeping for almost a week.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I answer as honestly as I can.

The clues she’s been hinting at about her past add to the puzzle, and yet they don’t make much sense. I’m not an expert, but I’m thinking that her mind is finally begging for help after all these years. It’s my understanding that she didn’t have any emotional support after her mother died. Abby didn’t allow mom or any therapist into her mind after Ava died either. Something’s gotta give and now, here we are on the edge. What’s going to happen to her if she doesn’t seek out professional help?

She never grieved her mom or her stepsister. I still don’t know how close she was to Ava, but if they shared the same room, at some point they must have become sisterly, maybe even best friends.

“Is she having nightmares?” Sterling asks with a serious voice that he barely uses.

“They’re back all right,” I nod. “It’s like the Abby from California disappeared and the one who came home six years ago is back.”

“Obviously, I know shit about mental stuff,” Sterling twists the cap off the beer and takes a few gulps.

“You surprise us with your knowledge, when you want to share it.” I say teasingly, waiting for some stupid remark.

“She’s a textbook case of PTSD,” he says ignoring my comment. “That doesn’t go away. It’s a permanent condition. The goal isn’t to forget the trauma because that’s impossible, but instead make it easier to deal with so it won’t affect her life negatively.”

“In other words, she suppressed it?”

He nods twice, his face totally serious.

“She was able to keep it in the back of her mind, but,” he pauses, looking down for a few seconds before his eyes find mine, “The girl returned to the scene of the crime so to speak. Every memory she suppressed rushed back within seconds.” He snaps his fingers.

I scrub two hands over my face, exhaling sharply. He’s right, I know it in my gut. She told me a few days back that she returned to Denver for me.

“If it’s okay with you, she might work from here,” I say out loud.

“It’s fine by me, but for how long?”

“What is fine by you, Sluggy?” Abby’s voice resonates through the house. My gaze lifts and I find her coming down the stairs.

“I heard that you’re taking a long vacation in Tahoe, Absters.”

“Wow, you haven’t called me that in a long time,” she says, smiling at the puppy who is waiting for her at the bottom of the staircase.

Abby sits on the first step and starts petting the little guy. “You’re a handsome boy. I should take you away from Sterling.”

“He’s not mine,” my brother warns her.

“That explains why he’s alive.” Abby sticks out her tongue and stands up. “If you ever plan on having a pet, try a virtual fish.”

She marches toward me, rising on her tiptoes and kissing my lips. “Thank you for earlier.”

I take her in my arms giving her a deeper kiss, before we’re interrupted by my brother’s loud cough.

“Are you okay, Slugger?” Abby frowns.

“What the fuck?” Sterling walks toward us and pushes me away from Abby. “What are you doing? She’s like my little sister.”

“I assume that you haven’t told him yet.” Abby arches an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side and crossing her arms.

Before I can speak, my brother does, “So, he finally manned up and made a move on little Abby.”

“Ugh, you make it sound like some weird taboo,” Abby complains sucking on her lip. “I’m not a kid.”

He looks at her from top to bottom and grins. “You’re right. I should have made a move before this one did.”

“Sterling,” I warn him.

“Chill, Weston! I’m just joking. Don’t give me that murderous look.” He walks toward the couch and picks up a leash. “I’m walking Terry while you two make out.”

As he marches toward the entry, he stops and says, “Stay away from the terrace in the main room. I’ll let you know when you can go out there.”

Abby scrunches her nose but doesn’t say anything. I’m surprised she’s not going to check on her terrace. I bet Sterling let the dog use it when he wanted to skip the dog-walks.

“We should get a puppy,” Abby suggests as she watches the dog walking away. “There are plenty of trails where we can walk him.”

“Are you sure you have time for a puppy?”

“We can have a puppy-pen in the office.” Her wide, playful smile is back.

“How’s your stomach?”

She twists her mouth and says, “Sorry about earlier. The flight and …” She touches her belly. “I’m not sure why I got sick.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize.” I turn around and open the refrigerator grabbing a bottle of Perrier. “Here, let me make you something light. You must be hungry.”

“What would I do without you, Ahern?” She gives me a peck on the lips, opens the bottle, and drinks it down.

“Do you think it’s a bug or something else?” I ask as I search for the deli meat and mayonnaise to prepare a sandwich.

I’m glad I called the management service earlier to ask them to stock the fridge and make sure the house was clean.

“I’ve been edgy lately. It could’ve been a nervous breakdown.” Her thoughtful voice makes me look her way. She’s staring at the window, her gaze totally lost. “There are a lot of little things that are triggering my memories.”

I hold my tongue because there are too many questions I want to ask. What really happened to you, Abby? That’s the main one. If I begin inquiring, she’s going to shut down. I decide to keep quiet and listen to what she has to say.

“It’s like …” She shivers and rubs her arms. “Sometimes I feel like someone is watching me. Following me.”

I grasp the edge of the counter, my heart beating fast. Who could be watching her and why?

Abby shakes her head. “It sounds crazy,” she continues. “Most likely, it’s my mind playing tricks on me.”

“Who do you think would follow you, Abbs?”

“Never mind,” she says absently. “It’s probably all in my head. A few days in paradise should erase the bad dreams.”

Her dismissal doesn’t sit well with my stomach. We can try to search for a specialist later. My goal for the next few days is to make sure that she relaxes and forgets all about Denver. I need to find that witty girl I fell in love with. She’s somewhere underneath the storm raging inside her.

“After you have something to eat, we can spend a few hours at the pool,” I suggest preparing more sandwiches for Sterling and me. “You can forget everything that happened to you in the past two weeks.”

“That’s crazy talk. I wouldn’t want to forget them.” She takes the plate and sets it on the kitchen island. “It’s been difficult, but I’ll take all of that if it means I’m with you, Wes.”

My lips part in a grin. She chooses me over the pain she’s bearing. Heat radiates from my chest. I wish I could tell her how much that means to me. Even better, I’d take her to bed and show her how much she means to me. I’d love her slowly and carefully.

I wrap my arm around her and pull her closer. I kiss her forehead. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are parted, her breathing slow and even. I tilt her head to the side taking her mouth with mine. Her tongue meets mine. Her arms go around my waist and through my kiss I tell her every word I can’t say. How much I love her and need her. That if I could, I’d give my life so that she could stop suffering.