Page 70 of His to Cherish
And I felt so lost, like I was running through a dark forest with no way out. I had no idea how to help this boy. There was nothing left to say that could make him feel better, but I knew he needed help. Serious help.
Yet I was not the one capable of providing it for him.
So I stayed for as long as I could, doing the only thing I could think of.
I held him.
—
I had grown up on a small farm in Ohio, and our land was usually overrun with stray animals. Most of them were there because I couldn’t, and never had been able to, leave a stranded animal on the side of the road. Every time I saw a stray cat or dog, I screamed and shouted until my parents would stop the car and bring it home with us.
I nursed birds back to health.
I once bottle fed a baby raccoon I found.
I took care of a litter of baby bunnies after my dad had almost mowed over their den and the mommy rabbit never came back to take care of them.
Our house and barn were filled with stray cats.
My parents used to constantly tease me that there wasn’t an animal alive I couldn’t bring back to health and wholeness.
I left the hospital after I told Beth what Shane said had happened, and then spent more time comforting her. Once in my car, I drove around for hours thinking of all the time I spent taking care of everyone and everything else since I’d been a small child.
It was too deeply a part of my makeup to leave either a wounded animal or a person alone when they were hurting.
And as I drove, I considered all of that.
I was sad.
I was overworked.
I was stretched too thin.
I hadn’t devoted nearly enough time in the last few weeks to doing the things that I enjoyed, the things that helped me, because I’d been so concerned with being there for everyone else.
But no matter what my clouded feelings regarding Aidan were, I felt like I needed to take a step back. Reevaluate. See if what I felt for him was something more than him being another wounded animal before I let things go too far.
The last thing I wanted was more people hurting.
Especially me.
My shoulders sagged with relief when I pulled into my driveway well after the sun had set and his truck wasn’t there.
After the last twenty-four hours, I didn’t have it in me to be there for anyone tonight.
I needed sleep. I needed quiet. I needed time to myself to figure everything out.
Upon entering my house, I made sure the garage door was firmly shut behind me and headed straight to the kitchen. I hadn’t eaten since breakfast, but my stomach felt too tight from stress and sadness and food didn’t sound good. Instead, I drank a glass of orange juice and programmed my coffeemaker for the morning before going to my room.
I didn’t bother turning on lights. I knew the layout of my house, and as my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I slowly stumbled down the hall to my bathroom, where I took a long shower, climbed into bed, and prayed that sleep would come quickly.
It didn’t.
I lay in bed for what felt like hours, listening to the crickets chirping outside, before I realized I hadn’t even looked at my phone after turning it off when I got to the hospital that morning.
I also never called the school secretary to update her on Shane.
Sighing, I threw off the covers and grabbed my purse off of the floor by my bed where I had dropped it on my way to shower.
