The Detective and Her Bachelor

Chapter 41

Sometimes, the harder you work to keep yourself together, the harder you fall apart. It's like the small creature living inside of you that has been neglected and ignored after being fed fake promises of future plans for self care, has finally had enough, screaming so loud that it shatters the very careful walls you've built to keep everything together. 

And in the shattered space left behind, is a black hole of sorrow that threatens to swallow you whole. Forcing you to deal with your sorrow NOW. The creature doesn't ask for a convenient time to break you to pieces if ignored, it just does it when it has finally had enough. 

As I knocked on Andrew's door, determined to work, to focus on task after task to solve a crime that seemed to loom larger with each passing day, I could feel that small creature inside, breathing down my neck, threatening to shatter everything. 

I've got this, I promised.

I tilted my head up, pushing thoughts of my sister's away, ignoring the rumble of potential destruction inside.

Just a few more hours of work, I insisted.

I shoved my hands into my pockets to keep them from shaking, pushing away the threat of demolished togetherness.

Just focus on asking questions and then I promise to—.

The door opened and there Andrew was, suddenly erasing all of my denial. 

I'm not okay, I realized. 

I could feel lit like a broken breath. I'm going to break, the creature warned.

Andrew stood there, sporting messy bedhead, a worn, rumpled t-shirt, his wooden framed glasses, grey sweatpants— something that apparently everyone wore like a uniform when the cameras were off— and blinked into the hall, surprised at the sight of me standing in the dark. 

"Delle?"

"Can..." I blinked back, thrown by the fact that just the sight of Andrew left me feeling so utterly fragile, broken open in several pieces. It was a strange, terrifying experience. One I had never had before. 

I had grown accustomed to being solid around everyone. Everyone needed my strength. I was the eldest daughter turned guardian. The breadwinner. The shoulder to cry on. The protector. There wasn't room for tears with all the things I needed to be.

I was never broken or hurt until I found my way into solitude, where I shattered alone, creating the illusion of unflappability around others. No one ever saw me break. It was a rule. But I could feel it happening. I could feel my resolve cracking, threatening to cut me to ribbons from the inside out.

I closed my eyes and tried again. "Can... I..." I swore internally, when it came out in a broken whisper.

What's wrong with me?

Andrew opened his door further without a word and I walked past him, thankful again for the dark. For how it hid my face which normally followed my orders to hide my internal chaos. But now I had no idea what face I was making. My brain and body weren't on the same page. A war of control was tugging at my insides, scrambling to clamp down the chaos before it could spill out into the external world.

A cool pine scented breeze filled the air, the curtains flapping gently in silver moonlight that spilled across the room, giving everything a gentle glow. A candle flickered on his nightstand, nestled next to a worn book, creating a small beacon of promised warmth. Everything screamed cozy. Safe. And I suddenly wanted to soak it in, to allow myself to relax, to feel safe, to fall apart without scraping together my own corner of solitude. The sudden urge was so strong that I stopped halfway across the room, frozen.