Sliding her phone to the side of the desk, she scrolled through the website, searching for anything that would meet her needs. With little time to read each description thoroughly, she concentrated on specific keywords until she developed a headache.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
She jumped from her chair, heart racing. Going to the window at the front of the house, she gazed outside and found Serge on her porch. She unlocked the door and swung it open.
He stormed in, filling her house with urgency. She put her hand on his chest. There was no reason for him to rush over here. There was nothing he could do. She'd created the mess she was in. She'd figure a way out.
Serge cupped the front of her neck and brought her up to her toes to kiss her. The pressure on her neck gave her a rush.
"You smell good." She dropped to her heels.
"Not me." He let go of her and held up a bag of take-out. "Food."
She raised her brows. Usually, he'd hurry in and demand that she go home with him. He had never arrived at the house with dinner in hand.
She hugged him. "Thank you."
That was exactly what she needed in the relationship. Support, understanding, and compromise.
"We can eat while I write a check, and you can open the shelter back up." He walked to the kitchen island. "Where's your plates?"
"Wait. What?" She hurried after him. "You can't do that. I don't want you to do that."
"Plates?" he asked again.
"In the cabinet on the right by the microwave." She pointed. "I'm going to find a grant. If that doesn't work, I'll go to the churches in the area and other non-profits and see if we can merge our resources."
"That's only a band-aid on the problem."
"I know, but I have to do something." She leaned her hip against the counter. "All those people are going to be outside tonight because I—"
"Stop." Serge pulled a checkbook from his back pocket and walked to the desk.
He took a pen and leaned over to write on a check. She shook her head. He was being ridiculous.
"I'll tear it up," she said.
"Then, I'll write another one."
Her chest ached as she walked out of the room. She stopped at the window at the back of the house and peered out into the small backyard, which was much neglected. The grass was overgrown and bald in spots. She needed to hire someone to come and take care of the lawn.
She inhaled deeply. Everything was piling up on her. Not only had she disappointed so many people, but she was embarrassed. She should have done better.
Tears slipped down her cheeks. She couldn't hold it in anymore.
"Bree?"
She swiped her cheeks. Normally, she wasn't a crier.
Failing only reminded her of how unlovable she was. Her mom was probably rolling over in her grave in delight at seeing her dream fall apart. She had never approved of her wanting to help those less fortunate than herself.
She felt like she was losing everything.
Serge wrapped his arms around her from behind. "Don't cry."
"I can't help it." She sniffed. "I keep thinking of Evie and Sia. They finally found resources so she could get medical help and get off the street. I was helping others, too. They might not be children, but they were humans. They deserve more."
Serge turned her around, using his hands to wipe the wetness from her cheeks. "I want you to go somewhere with me."
