Yesterday, when he sat in the bathroom while I showered, asking if I needed help, I lost it. To avoid a fight, I went to bed at six o’clock, feigning exhaustion.

He raises both hands. “I’m just making sure you don’t do too much.”

“You’re making sure I don’t do anything.” I turn to Dr. Warvel. “I love him. I love that he wants to take care of me, but I’m not an invalid.”

She shifts, which means she’s settling in to give it to one of us, and I’m hoping it’s him. “Jessica,” she starts, and I groan, “you know what it’s like to suffer a trauma. You lived through the plane crash, dealt with crippling nightmares, stuttering, and a host of other physical issues. What you’re living right now with Grayson is another version of it.”

“I understand that.”

“Do you?”

“You just said I should.”

She smiles. “But that doesn’t mean you understand it. I’m pointing out that being overprotective is a part of him dealing with his trauma.” Her eyes move to Grayson. “Did you tell Jessica what you went through regarding the fire?”

He looks to me and then to her. “Not really.”

“Why don’t you try?”

“It was nothing compared to her being in the fire,” he says.

Dr. Warvel nods slowly, I can see her brain working on the best angle. “I’m sure that’s true, but you lived it as well. Maybe not the same way as she did, but there is still your version of it, correct?”

“Yes. I wasn’t in the fire, but I listened to it. I had to drive to her, not knowing anything. Then, when I got there, I had to wait until someone would tell me if she was even alive. I had to wait and worry, seeing the fucking house burn. Literally, the house was on fire. Not just the beach house, but us as well. Our relationship was going up in flames.”

Man, she’s good. Just a few questions, and he’s letting it out.

I turn to him. “We weren’t going up in flames.”

“No? It sure felt like it. I lost you, Jessica. I thought you were dead. I listened . . .”

My fingertips move down his face. “I’m right here.”

“I know that, and I am trying to tell myself to stop hovering, but I lost my fucking heart when you wouldn’t answer the phone. I screamed for five minutes, racing for my keys, trying to find my shoes, and the whole time, I was calling out your name over and over, listening to the sounds of glass breaking and what sounded like bombs exploding in the house. And then the line went dead, and I had no idea . . .”