Page 64 of Finding Comfort

He picked up on the second ring. “Celia, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m fine.”

“I’m coming over.”

“Really, Malcolm, everything is—”

He cut her off. “I’m coming.”

Guilt filled her, followed by the urge to see him. “I’m not even at the condo.”

“Group, right?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. He always knew.

“On my way.” He hung up before she could protest again.

When she walked through the center toward the parking lot, the conversations of the other women paused. Celia kept her head down, picking up her pace before she could hear the words in their whispers. Sometimes this happened. Often enough that she knew not to engage. It was as if she’d won the crazy contest. Her fingers twisted the rubber band on her wrist as she stood off to the side, trying to ignore the stares as the others left.

When Malcolm’s truck pulled up, she was quick to hop in. “You really didn’t have to come,” Celia told him.

“You’re rarely the one to call me,” he said, looking over at her.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the truth of the words hit her. She’d called him when she had no place to go. Every once in a while, she called when her memories became too much. “I’m so sorry, Malcolm. I’ve made you do everything, haven’t I?”

“I never mind.” He smiled at her, and the kindness in it reminded her of Trenton. Though Malcolm wasn’t always sweet, he had been with her. Even when he worried.

“I know. I can’t thank you enough for always being there for me.” With the memory swimming so close to the surface, she could almost hear the younger version of him telling her she’d be okay as he held her broken hand.

Malcolm put the truck in park, turning toward her. “Did you talk about it today?”

Celia didn’t try to pretend she didn’t understand. “Yes.”

He leaned forward, pulling her into a hug that was made uncomfortable from the gearshift between them. “I’m so proud of you.”

She accepted the praise, even though she hadn’t really done anything.

He pulled back, clearing his throat. Malcolm had always been there, but he wasn’t often a hugger. “This was the first time you talked openly about it, wasn’t it?”

She nodded, looking down at her fingers.

“What brought that about?” he asked. There was a note to his tone that she recognized.

“I told you before, I’m fine. There was another person there, one that I thought needed to hear it.” She frowned as she remembered how quickly Jami had left. “I might have made things worse for her, though.”

“Seriously, Celia?” Malcolm asked. “That’s amazing.”

She lifted her eyes. “I just told you I might have made it worse.”

“I’ve never heard you talk about wanting to reach out to someone like this. No matter what, that’s a good thing.” He untwisted her fingers until they lay straight on his palm. “You’re not responsible for the other person’s reaction. Not when your intention was to help.”

Celia shook her head. “You make it sound like more than it is.”

“It’s not only this, Celia. You’ve been talking about Trent a lot lately, at the bar. You two seem to be getting along.” He pulled his hand away, returning it to the steering wheel. “I was worried when I suggested it, since you like to be alone.”

“Trenton is easy to get along with.” Thinking about him brought up other memories, ones she didn’t feel comfortable having around Malcolm. “He takes care of people, like you.”

Malcolm ran a hand over his bun. “I’m nothing like Trent. As much as I tease him, he really is a saint.”