Unstable by S.E. Hall Page B

Calvert. I have to at least try to rectify that, because Gatlin’s right, there has to be reason I was the one chosen to be left standing. I need to figure out what that reason is, my ultimate purpose, but I don’t know if I’m strong enough to handle the answer.
    “Write the ending, Henley,” he murmurs.
    All those damn therapists owe Gatlin Holt every dime they were ever paid, ‘cause he may just be making a dent in my armor.
     

     
    THE TRIP TO THE grocery store isn’t as bad as I was expecting, and I’ve got everything I need in the cart, heading for the finish line…when I crash.
    My cart—straight into Merrick’s.
    I manage to cut short my brittle laugh and ask, “What are you doing here?”
    It’s an unexpected sight, Merrick, the fancy lawyer, strolling through the Buy-n-Bag in a business suit and tie, buying…
    I look in his cart and see microwave dinners, all the makings for sandwiches, coffee, cereal and milk. Guess he and Krista don’t live together? What a shame.
    “I’m shopping, same as you, Henley.” He juts out his chin and uses his “holier than thou” voice, which only pleases me further…because I easily recognize his enunciation as a veil for embarrassment.
    “Oh, I can see that. I just figured you’d have Krista, or your all too happy to accommodate secretary do such mundane tasks for you.”
    “Well you figured wrong. I’m glad to see you out and about though.” He smiles, genuine and warm. “Filling the cupboards, huh?” He glances in my cart. “Does this mean you’re staying?”
    I shrug, not bothering with putting up a front. “For a while I guess. Still gotta eat until I decide for good though.”
    “I…uh…” he shuffles his weight, muttering toward the ground, “moved some things around, so your bank note’s been paid this month. Gives you some time to think about things.”
    I scramble for a response, beyond stunned. And frankly, I’m shocked at what falls from my mouth. “Thank you, Merrick. I appreciate that.”
    “You do?” he blurts out, caught just as off-guard as me.
    “Yeah, I do.” He basically just shuffled my money, but still, he didn’t have to do that. That warrants a “thank you.”
    He grins. “Um, you’re…very welcome, Henley.” Something old, nostalgic, flits across his face before we both quickly look away, him clearing his throat. “Okay then, guess I better get going. But you take care, and let me know if you need anything, or what you decide. You still have a ton of papers to sign, but only when you’re sure, and ready.”
    I nod, maneuvering my cart around his.
    “Oh, and if you want to sell any of the horses, Mr. Parnell asked that I pass along his interest.”
    Shit, the horses! “I have to go! I’ll be in touch,” I call over my shoulder as I rush to the check-out.
    I’d apparently put any horses out of mind, so obviously I haven’t dared go near, let alone enter, the horse barn. And seeing as how I still can’t even sleep upstairs, there’s probably no way in hell I’m going to be able to handle this…but they have to eat. And sell some ? How many are there?
    My foot’s tapping out a nervous rhythm as the check-out girl, still wet behind the ears, scans my groceries at the speed of reverse …but I force my impatient smile to remain in place.
    Poor horses, they’re probably starving. I can only pray they’ve been turned out.
    But I don’t know for sure. And I should.
    I have got to either pull it together or pull out the white flag.

 
    AFTER SPEEDING ALL THE way to and through the feed store, not taking any chances on the supply, or lack thereof, of salt and grain at the house, I continue to mash the pedal to the floor ‘til I’m home.
    Home. The thought producing itself, and feeling “acceptable” this time.
    I skid sideways into the driveway and Bourbon gives me a disapproving growl as he’s jostled all over the seat.
    I drop him off at the main house, getting him set up with full bowls of cold