“Scared of what?” “Lots of things. Fucking it up. Not living up to what you needed. Losing you.” Her expression remains curious, lacking any judgment, and it gives me the courage I need to keep talking. “I know none of this makes sense when I say it out loud because it was a self-fulfilling prophecy. I’m working on it. Not saying it’s fixed, but I understand it a little better now, and that’s the first step.” Surprise flickers across her face. “Working on it? What do you mean?” An imaginary fist winds around my throat, constricting my airway until I can barely breathe. “In therapy,”
