Days passed but there was no forgetting the effect Shiloh's touch had on me. I thought about it when I was hurting, when I felt decent, and even when I felt nothing at all. I would find myself daydreaming about him appearing out of nowhere to save me; which seemed especially ridiculous considering he considered me to be a source of food. It was like a cow praying for the butcher to suddenly see them like another pet. Man's best friend, only more cumbersome and delicious.

Shaking myself out of my thoughts, I got back to my weekly bookkeeping duties. Running my own business had a lot of wonderful freedoms but exponentially more burdens and Mondays meant reconciling my ledger. But as my mind continued to wander, I found a workable stopping point and closed my laptop. I was in dire need of fresh air.

Pulling on a cardigan, I shuffled out to my porch in my house-slippers feeling like I hadn't seen the sun in days. I had in fact had my morning coffee out here, washing in an essential Vitamin D bath to help fend away the assorted depressions that targeted me; not that there was any measurable proof of the sun's usefulness to me. Still, I prayed that the early thaw would penetrate me and let the ever-rising warmth surrounding me reach within.

There had been only one thing that had worked so far... but I wasn't thinking about that. I wasn't thinking about him. Because that's how thoughts work.

I had spent a lot of time over the years aspiring to control my mindset. Countless hours of practice had amounted to nothing. There were chemicals in my brain that ignored my attempts at positive habit forming and building healthy coping mechanisms. Joyce had broken it down for me; my body's ability to self-sabotage. Sometimes it would manifest as drowsiness, at other times it was forgetfulness, loss of time, or even physical illness. There were a plethora of ways that I could attempt to avoid the steps that I had so carefully put in place to rid myself of such tactics.

It was a vicious cycle.

A large yawn escaped me before I retreated to my empty abode. The creaks in the wide pine planks, a chorus of 'welcome.' Some would argue I needed a dog to greet me with a sloppy smile every time I arrived home, but in all honesty, it felt like an unfair and exhausting expectation. The very idea of being met with excitement made me tired.

That night, I dreamt of a weight that held me down. Instead of being suffocating, there was a strange comfort gifted by the burden that oppressed me. It was as if, for once, I wasn't alone.

* * *

"Alex," I called softly. "It's after four. Cheryl's going to be here soon."

The young girl was a regular of mine and almost always fell asleep by the end of her session. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence from many of my clients so I always made sure to have plenty of wiggle room between appointments, but as my last patient for the day, I was ready to start cleaning up.

A yawn sounded from across the room and it reminded me of my own diversionary tactics. "Have you had a chance to try that Kava tea yet?" I asked, while closing out of my notes for the day and packing up my laptop.

"I like it," Alex said, sitting up. She reached to put her shoes on as headlights flashed through the oversized window of the front room. "It doesn't make me sleepy, like I hoped, but it's yummy."

"Well, that's something." She gave me a groggy smile and I couldn't help but chuckle. "Your treatments certainly seem to do the trick. Why don't we explore techniques you can try on yourself at home that can put you in the same relaxed state that you reach here."

Wide eyed, the teen looked at me reverently, making me feel both proud and anxious. I kept my smile from faltering, shame rising as it became less than genuine. How could I so easily be disarmed by gratitude?

"I would love that, Miss Smith," Alex voiced. "Do you really think I can do what you do?"

I nodded encouragingly. "Especially starting as young as you are. It takes practice to address pain or do a full body attunement, but I have no doubt in my mind that you can pick up some techniques for self-regulating."

She gave me a chaste hug before I walked her out to Cheryl, her aunt and legal guardian. It was obvious that the woman loved her niece. They had informed me that Alex had been through a barrage of methods to help her through her PTSD regarding the passing of her parents. I had let it stay at that, but I had a special kind of sympathy for the girl.

Reminding me of myself at her age, I wish there had been a 'me' I could have had on my side, to heal me inside and out. Now, that scar tissue stunted any further repair.

I stood in the window long after their vehicle had backed out of the small lot. This corner of town catered to an assortment of almost-necessities. With an eyeglass shop to my left and the bank and one of our two churches across the street, it was a conglomeration of constant, though sporadic, traffic. None of our parking was ever full, but we all took turns being busy.

Watching the last of the patrons exit the bank, I wondered why I was still here. Hadn't I been in a rush? What had happened to my sense of urgency? What had I even been in a rush to get to?

With lethargy, I moved through the small space turning off the remaining lights. But instead of pulling on my coat, I just stared out the window again. Maybe if I just stayed right here I could keep a firm grip on this state of numbness. I was usually more aware when my mood shifted into a state of defense but I found myself unsure of how I got here.

Alex.

She had put me on a pedestal; I could see it in her eyes. It physically turned my stomach to think of how she must see me. Collected, well-adjusted, independent. It was all lies.

I was good at putting on the mask but it was exhausting. There was a reason I worked by myself and didn't socialize outside of what was necessary to keep from fully adopting the title of 'forest witch.'

Living tucked back in the woods, as the local holistic healer, I knew there was a smattering of rumors around my reclusiveness. People didn't avoid me in the stores or whisper about me, but a town this small needed something to talk about.

I'd talk about me.

They had given up on inviting me to community events. It was something I tried not to notice, but the guilt felt fully deserved when I did. You can only give a polite smile and a 'maybe' so many times before the offers stop coming at all. If anyone had bothered to notice me at Polly's the other night I'm sure they found me just as unrecognizable as Shiloh. Just two strangers passing through.

The fact that the closest sit-down establishment was in Redfield didn't really factor in. Out here the towns all blended into one another, apart from the stretches of dense evergreens, so we tended to 'share' our amenities. We had the good grocery store and a coffee shop, they got the restaurant and bar. There were always enough churches to go around. My brain categorized them as 'generic church' because that was the extent of my involvement in the types of belief systems that had congregations anywhere in the rural States.

My mind wandered to the church across the street and if it really was a holy place. Would this assemblage of wood and metal and glass offer me salvation if I asked? What if I begged and pleaded? If I said the magic words and struck a pose would God be merciful?

As the sky took on a new hue I shook myself from my thoughts and checked the time on my phone.

I had wasted over two hours stuck in my head without even realizing it. Frustrated, I held back the tears that threatened to spill, seemingly, for no reason at all. My tired knees creaked when I finally collected my belongings; as if I didn't have enough body fatigue to fight already. It was going to be an Epsom-salt-bath kind of night.

Laptop bag, purse, and water bottle all balanced in my grip, I managed to lock up without dropping anything, though my pinky had some complaints.

"I was starting to wonder if you were planning on spending the night here," I heard from behind. A chill passed through me before I could try and reign in the spark of excitement that rose up, immediately followed by shame.

Shiloh was standing by my car with an air so nonchalant he should have been whistling. "What are you doing here?" I asked, hating that I couldn't sound as natural as he looked.

"I picked up this particularly delectable sense of self-loathing. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"

Choosing not to answer, I instead unlocked my car with the fob and approached the driver's door. "I'm not really in the mood for company."

"Yeah," he said, toeing at a pebble, "I've got my own staring off into space to do anyways."

Exasperated, my voice came out harsher than I liked. "Then why are you here?"

Shiloh shrugged, a bulky movement in his thick coat. "To let you stew. Go ahead and yell at me. I know it'll keep you up tonight." His lips curled with his words; not with wickedness but with understanding. He was just stating the obvious.

Having had enough, I pushed past him to leave. He didn't stop me and the fact that he just stood there waiting to catch my unavoidable gaze in the rearview mirror made my blood boil. Now that I was truly alone, that self-loathing he had been so quick to reference would turn into a festering rage. I never hated myself more than when I was fighting tears.

Two lights. That's all I had to make it through before turning off on my road. Hill Road turned to dirt once you got past the second of Blackwoods' churches. This one had a cemetery. As I drove past it, I wondered if that was where I would eventually end up.