Robert sat on his bed with his head in his hands, feeling like he had a ticking bomb in the room. It was in his laptop, the e-mail Georgie had sent him. The last one had been depressing as hell to read. It wasn't hard to see how small her life had become. It was possible she'd actually gotten worse since she'd left him. Did he really want to read another e-mail that reminded him how damaged she was?

---Then---

Robert was up in their bedroom sitting on the bed working on his laptop. He looked up and saw Georgie standing in the doorway waiting for him to notice her.

"Your mom needs a few things to make dinner tonight and I wondered if you wanted to go with me," she said.

"Can't, sorry," he said, looking back at his laptop. "I'm in the middle of something right now."

"It's really nice outside, Robert."

"I'm writing an essay for a university application right now and I'm under a deadline. You'll have to go on without me," he said, and then looked back at the screen, trying to remember the last sentence he was about to write.

"It won't take that long," she said a little louder, interrupting his thoughts and he felt a prickling of irritation. He made an effort to push the feeling down.

"Georgie, I said I can't, and meant it," he said gently but firmly. "I only have until midnight to finish this and get it right. This is a really good university. If I get accepted, my chances of getting a job when I graduate are a lot better, yeah? It's important I write a good essay. I'm doing this for our future, yeah? You'll have to go alone this time."

He put his attention back on his essay, trying to pick up his train of thought but after a minute, he realized she was still there and looked up. She was in the doorway but standing sideways, scraping at the wood of the door frame with her fingernail.

"Why aren't you going?" he asked.

"Because I want you to go with me," she said quietly, concentrating on what her finger was doing. He sighed deeply and saw her shoulders droop a little.

He knew when she got like this she wasn't going to let it go. He was going to have to deal with whatever it was now or he wouldn't be able to work on his essay. He sighed again, feeling the prickling of irritation rising up while he closed his laptop and put it on his bedside table. He made the effort to push it back down again.

"Georgie, come here," he said quietly. She slowly walked over and slumped on the bed, hunching her shoulders and looking at her hands in her lap.

"What's this about? Why won't you go to the shop by yourself?" She took a deep breath that lifted her body, and then slumped again when she let it out.

"I – can't," she said dejectedly to her hands.

"Why can't you?"

"It's just – too hard. I tried but –." He waited but she didn't say anything more.

"But what?"

"I got too scared. I just – couldn't," she said, hunching over more when she finished.

Robert suddenly realized she hadn't been to the shops by herself since her disastrous shopping trip a week ago. She'd asked him to accompany her but she'd been subtle about it, always making it sound like she wanted to go for a walk with him, or saying he'd spent too much time indoors and needed some air. He'd been so preoccupied, he hadn't noticed.

"I thought we talked about this," he said gently. "I thought you knew what to do if someone scared you like that again." She sighed deeply, blinking hard.

"I know, Robert. But it doesn't help," she said quietly to her hands. "I really tried. Honestly, I did. But when I got to the end of the street, I started shaking and I felt like I was going to throw up. I just – can't do it," she finished, her voice breaking and tears began rolling down her cheeks.

He moved closer to her so he could hold her and she leaned into him, putting her arms around him and cried quietly into his shoulder. He knew she'd always seemed more comfortable staying home, but this was more serious. If she was too afraid to go to the shops alone, she'd obviously had a much more severe reaction to what happened than he realized. As he thought about what he should do, he realized he didn't have time to deal with something this serious right now. He'd have to deal with this later. He had to get that essay written.

"Alright, I'll go to the shop," he said. She looked up at him with relief, wiping her eyes with her fingers and he let go of her.

"Thank you, Robert."

"It's alright. Is there a list?" he said quickly, getting up.

"Yes, your mom has it," she said. They went down and he found his mum in the kitchen already starting to cook.

"Georgie said you needed a few things?"

"Oh. Yes, Robbie," she said, looking at him with surprise, then handing him a piece of paper with three items on it.

"D'you mind if I take the car?" he asked.

"No, not at all."

He went to the sitting room and got the keys. When he began to put on his jacket, Georgie took his old denim one out of the closet.

"You might as well stay here," he said. "There's no point in both of us going." She looked surprised and then her face fell.

"But I thought we were going together," she said in a small voice.

"It'll be quicker if I go by myself. You stay here and help my mum, yeah?" he said gently.

"Oh, okay," she said faintly, avoiding his eyes as she hung his denim jacket back up.

He felt terrible. He knew he'd hurt her, but the truth was he felt like he needed to go alone. He was still fighting the feelings of irritation for how much time it was costing him, and he didn't want her to pick up on it.

While he drove to the shop, he thought about how he'd been through enough relationships to know this was how it always started to go wrong, the little irritations that grew into larger resentments. He didn't want this relationship to be like all the others. Georgie was special. She was the one, the girl he was going to be with for the rest of his life. And besides, it wasn't her fault she was having so many problems. He wasn't about to let the difficulties she was having because of what the bastard had done to her poison their relationship.

When he came back, he gave his mum the things he'd purchased then went upstairs to finish his essay. He was dismayed to find Georgie lying on their bed with her back to him, crying into a pillow. He sighed again as he went to sit on the bed.

He started rubbing her back, saying gently, "Don't cry, Georgie." She wiped her face with her hands as she stopped crying, but she didn't turn to face him.

"I'm sorry," she said sadly, with her voice breaking.

"It's alright," he said gently, continuing to rub her back. Then he had an idea. "Georgie, maybe you should go see a doctor." He felt her body stiffen under his hand, and she sat up to face him.

"What kind of doctor?" she asked warily.

"Someone you can talk to. A therapist, y'know?" Her eyes got wide and her mouth opened a little. "Someone who can help you –."

"You think there's something wrong with me?" she asked plaintively, suddenly looking devastated.

Shit. "No, I don't think –."

"But you think there's something wrong with my head," she said louder, her eyes filling with tears again.

"What? No! That's not –."

"I know what those doctors are for, Robert! You think there's something wrong with me!" she cried, and covered her face with her hands as she started sobbing.

He could kick himself for having said it. He should've kept his mouth shut. He'd just fucked things up and made everything worse. He didn't have time for this.

"Come here, Georgie," he said, pulling her to him and she cried into his chest. "I don't think there's anything wrong with you, alright? It was just a suggestion. Just forget I said it. I know it's hard to get used to everything," he said soothingly as he rubbed her back. "You just need more time, yeah? It'll get better. You just need to take things slower, yeah?" She nodded, her crying becoming more quiet.

"I don't want you to worry about this, alright?" he said gently after she'd calmed down. "Why don't you go downstairs? You can help my mum make dinner and I can finish my essay, yeah? As soon as I'm done, I'll have time to be with you, alright? We can do something if you like."

"Okay," she said quietly, wiping her face and avoiding his eyes. She got off the bed and left the room with her shoulders hunched.

He sighed again, and reached for his laptop. Obviously she'd taken on too much by going off to the shops by herself before she was ready. What she needed to do was to take things slower so she'd have time to adjust bit by bit. She'd just been doing too much too soon, he told himself.

As he looked at the dates he'd put in on his online calendar, he realized he'd be finishing up with the last of the application deadlines by her birthday. He just needed to get her through the next six weeks. He'd plan something special and that could be the start of helping her heal. Then he'd work with her over the summer before he started his courses, help her get over her fears, help her sort her education, maybe he'd even get her enrolled in dance lessons. By that time his mum should be much better and wouldn't need them to spend so much time at home. And if she was still having a hard time adjusting, he'd bring up her seeking professional help again. He'd have all the time he needed to convince her.

---Now---

Robert didn't want to read the latest e-mail from her but he knew he didn't have a choice. He wasn't strong enough to resist it. He sighed and reached for his laptop.

Dear Robert,

I'm glad I got to talk to you last week. I hope you're still doing well. I'm doing better than I was. I think I'm getting more used to being home.

I got a mobile and I wanted to give you my number. I know you probably won't want to call me and that's okay. I don't want you to feel like you have to. But just in case you need to, I wanted to make sure you had the number. It's 708-xxx-xxxx.

I bought a laptop a few days ago and May is helping me learn to use it. Now I can send you e-mails without having to ask her if I can use her computer.

I've started running by myself. I know you're probably surprised to hear that. The first time I ran, it was hard. I could only run on the street in front of my house. Then I made myself run around the block and after a while it got easier. Yesterday I ran around in the neighborhood. Some day soon, I hope I'll be able to run wherever I want.

Do you remember when you told me we'd feel better if we exercised? I think that's one of the reasons why I'm doing better now. I also remembered what you said about wearing light layers, so every time I run I make sure I'm dressed the right way just like you showed me.

I still want to go into the city but I haven't been able to do it yet. May told me she would take me but I told her No. I said if I can't go by myself, then I shouldn't go at all. I know I'll do it some day, but I'm trying not to do too much too soon, just like you said.

I guess that's all I have to tell you, except I love you and I miss you. I hope your mom and dad are doing well, and Mary, Betsy and Darrell too. I love them and miss them a lot too. Like I said before, you don't have to write me but if you do, I promise I'll write back to you.

Love, Georgie

She was right. He was shocked she was running by herself. Ever since that disastrous shopping trip, she hadn't been able to go anywhere alone, at least not until the day she left him.

And then it suddenly hit him – she was getting better – without him. She was never coming back now. They were truly finished. He'd lost her forever.

He doubled over gasping from the pain as he felt like his heart had just been ripped out, letting the laptop slide to the floor. He slumped over on the bed and pulled the bedcovers over his head as the dark bleakness he'd felt after he drove her to the airport descended on him. He desperately tried to turn off his mind, trying to escape the pain that was making it difficult for him to breathe.

The next thing he knew, there was a knock on his door and he heard his mum's voice. "Robbie? Robbie, are you in there?" She sounded worried.

He couldn't bring himself to say anything because the crushing pain was back now that he was awake. He heard the door open, her walking to his bed and then she pulled the covers off his head. He kept his eyes closed.

"Are you alright?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice.

"Don't feel well," he mumbled. He felt her warm hand on his forehead.

"Are you sick? You don't feel like you have a fever."

"Just don't feel well, mum," he said and rolled over so his back was to her, pulling the covers over his head again.

"D'you want me to bring you some tea or – some breakfast? You – you didn't finish your sandwich last night." She sounded even more concerned.

"Not hungry."

"Well – alright," she said hesitantly. "I guess – I'll check on you – later then." Before she'd closed his door, he was already somewhere else.

He was woken up by his dad's voice. "Robbie! Robbie, wake up!"

Why couldn't they just leave him the hell alone, he wondered angrily, as the pain in his chest overwhelmed him again. Didn't they understand? He rolled onto his back and pulled the covers off his head. His dad was standing over him, looking angry.

"Are you planning on spending the day in bed?" he asked loudly.

"Yes!" Robert replied sharply.

"I thought we agreed you weren't going to do this anymore!" he said even more loudly.

"Well, I'm doing it!" Robert suddenly shouted. "If you want to throw me out of the house, then do it! Until then, leave me alone!"

He rolled over, pulling the blankets back over his head. He could hear his dad breathing heavily and then he left, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Robert did his best to turn off his mind again so he could escape the pain.

When his alarm went off the next morning, he slapped it hard with his hand. He got up slowly, his body stiff, and walked to the bathroom feeling sick and shaky from lack of food. He realized the last proper meal he'd eaten had been Saturday's breakfast. When he'd bathed and dressed for work, he went down to the kitchen and found his mum already cooking.

Guilt gnawed at him when he went to her, seeing the dark circles under her eyes, the look of worry on her unusually pale face. She hugged him for a long time and he let her. It didn't make him feel any better, but he knew it would help her.

"Are you alright?" she asked him with deep concern, after she let go of him.

"Not really," he said quietly, avoiding her eyes.

"Oh, Robbie," she said sadly, and he turned away from her, the pain in her voice too much to bear.

When he slumped in his chair with his mug of tea, she put a heaping breakfast plate in front of him, saying plaintively, "And you were doing so well."

He didn't respond, just hunched over his food and forced himself to start eating even though he had no appetite. He knew if he didn't, he wouldn't be able to work, and that was the only thing he wanted, to be at work where no one could talk to him and he could turn his mind off.

When he rode in the car with Joey, he kept his head turned as if he was looking out the window, letting Joey do all the talking while he grunted occasionally at the pauses. After several minutes, Joey asked, "Is something wrong, Robbie?"

"Stomach flu over the weekend. Still feeling it," he said quietly to the window.

"Oh, that's too bad," he replied, and then launched into a long story about the last time he'd had it.

Robert worked the entire day, managing not to say much to anyone and by the end he felt a bit better, able to carry on a conversation with Joey during the ride home. When he went up to his room after being dropped off, he fought the urge to climb in his bed and changed as quickly as he could into his running clothes. He ran longer than usual, pushing himself hard so he would be too exhausted to feel anything.

When he walked in the kitchen after cleaning up, his dad looked over at him with surprise, then looked away with a grim expression. Robert felt fresh guilt and shame burn through him, remembering how he'd shouted at him. He walked over to him.

"I'm sorry, dad," he said, his head hanging, unable to look him in the eye. "It's – just too hard sometimes, yeah?" His dad surprised him by pulling him into a tight hug.

"Thanks for that, Robbie," he said quietly. "Better now?"

"Yeah," he lied. His dad let him go with a pat on the back, but Robert still avoided his eyes.

"I'm glad. I worry about you, lad," he said.

"I know. I'm sorry about that," he said quietly, while the guilt burned through him yet again.

"You just need to give yourself time, yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good lad. Well done," his dad said, patting him on the back again.

His mum cleared her throat, and said, "Let's eat, shall we?" and Robert could hear the tears she was fighting back.

He ate his dinner hunched over his plate while his parents chatted quietly, trying to pretend everything was normal.

****

I would like to take a moment to address the mental health issue. Its clear Robert and Georgie are both suffering psychologically and need medical help, but that's not the path I chose to take with this story. I think parents misunderstand, or are in outright denial about their children's mental health problems all the time in real life. The same goes for loved ones. None of the characters in my story are perfect people and you can expect them to make mistakes.  :)

Also, as far as I can tell, the university application process in the U.K. is nothing like what I've described Robert doing. He's going through the process U.S. students have to do, applying to each university separately. For those of you who caught that, I hope you're able to enjoy the story anyway.  :)

If you're enjoying the story so far, please let me know with a comment or at least a vote. Each one is precious to me and let's me know I'm doing a good job. Thanks!