“May I ask why?”
“Isn’t it too soon?” I asked her.
She crossed her arms and leveled me with her eyes. “Too soon for what exactly?”
I shrugged, unable to put what I was feeling about it into words.
“Well, then let me ask you this,” she continued. “What’s the right amount of time to stop living your life?”
I tipped my head to the side, understanding the point she was trying to make.
“When I put it that way, it gives you a whole different perspective, right?”
I sighed. “I guess I’m just scared I’ll have more nightmares.”
“So, what if you do?” she asked matter-of-factly.
I considered her question, but no answer came to me.
“Let me ask you this,” she said, taking a different approach. “Do you think you’ll be safe while you’re away with your brother and his friends?”
“He’s getting security.”
“Sounds like he thought ahead to keep you safe.”
I nodded. “He thinks getting me out of the state—getting me away from the memory of what happened here—could be good for me.”
“What do you think?”
“I think I want to go, but I’m scared they’ll all see through my armor.”
“Tell me about this armor.”
“I…I’m always the strong one. The rational one. The one who puts my brother and his friends in their place if they need it. The no-nonsense one.”
She stared at me, clearly trying to dissect what I just uttered.
“I sound like a bitch, don’t I?”
She smirked. “Do you think you sound like a bitch?”
“Yes.”
“You sound like a powerful woman who knows herself.”
“Knew,” I corrected her. “Knew herself.”
She didn’t press me on that and switched gears. “Tell me about your boutique.”
I winced.
She tilted her head. “Would that be difficult to talk about?”
“And not think about that night? Yes.”
“Understood. But, I’d love to hear why you opened it in the first place,” she prompted.
“It combined two of my interests. Fashion and money. I always wanted to run my own business.”