The room shrinks. The walls close in on the group of us as we stand silently in the shop office. The nasty orange smell subsides, and the acidity of the grease lessens. All I can think about are the people expecting me to respond . . . to that. To Burt’s words.

“You aren’t going to shoulder all of this,” he says, his voice gruff. “You always just take over like if you don’t do it, it won’t get done.”

“Well . . .” Well, that’s true.

He grins in a slightly cocky way. “We are capable, you know.”

I start to answer him but stop.

“Kirk put you in charge,” Burt says. “Smart move, if I’m being honest. You’re dependable and pretty quick on the computer. Customers seem to like ya too.”

Gee, thanks.

“We’re good with that because it’s the best answer to our current problem, and we all just want to save our jobs. Right?” he asks.

I nod warily.

“All we ask is that you trust us a little bit, all right? Give us shit to do, and then let us do it. Don’t go checking up on us or figuring we didn’t do it or haven’t done it and be ready to pounce.”

My world stops spinning.

He’s right. As much as I hate to admit it, Burt is actually right. The guys over here, Burt included, are capable. And if I’m being honest, I do tend to do what he’s accusing me of.

I hope for the best, maybe, but I certainly anticipate the worst. My life has been filled with men who have let me down. Kirk aside. And I know that my knee-jerk reaction of expecting people to fail me—which I’ve unpacked in therapy over the course of my life—isn’t one I should apply to all people. And, as Ethan said, if a situation isn’t okay, I shouldn’t simply pretend it is. That’s something I can control.

Just because my father—and then Jared, then Charlie, and now even Cole—let me down every time I needed him doesn’t mean that everyone always will.

How many times in my life have I been let down because I expected it? How many people have been willing to help me, to hold me up, but I turn them down, not allowing them to help me before I even give them a chance?

I think about this as I stand in front of Burt. I know it’s true. Heck, it was even true with Cole. He had to break his way into my life . . . before he left it.

Forcing a swallow, I lift my chin. One thing at a time.

“You’re right,” I say, the words hot against my lips. “I’m sorry for not trusting you guys.”

“Wow. That worked,” Fred mutters, making them all laugh.