Page 74 of The Haunting Plot

“Noted.”

“I’ve been trying to finish this book I’m working on. And I’ve been distracted. It’s like I can’t get out of my head, and I’ve never had that happen to me before while writing…” She trails off, picking at her fingers.

I’m struck by her vulnerability. “Sometimes I feel like I’m trapped in my own body too.”

“How so?”

“I’m capable of so many things but motivated to do nothing. I understand so much of what’s happening around me, about the people in my life and what makes them tick, but I can’t explain what’s happening inside myself.”

Her eyes soften, and I muster the courage to continue, hoping my honesty doesn’t scare her off. “Take this renovation, for example. I have so many amazing ideas that I could make happen. I know how to do it. I have the skills, but I rarely have the patience to follow through. I’m a walking contradiction.”

“You get bored in the middle?”

“Yeah. I can see exactly what I need to do, but I can’t make myself do it. Even though I want to. I wanted to be a good husband and be capable of everything that was expected of me, but the pressure felt like too much.”

“Especially after such a demanding job all day,” she says knowingly.

“Exactly. It’s like I only have the ability to do what’s necessary when the stakes are high, and even when my marriage was ending, the stakes never felt high enough. The gap between knowing what I needed to do and actually doing it is where my shame lives.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

I sit back on my ass, my knees tired of kneeling. “My whole life. Sorry, I know you have a deadline, and I’m distracting you. You don’t need to hear about my issues.”

She smiles, and fuck if it doesn’t instantly fill me with warmth. “What you’re describing, none of that is your fault. It’s not some character flaw. It’s the way your brain works, especially when you have ADHD. And trust me, I know a lot about neurodivergent brains.”

Holy shit. I think she’s right. Part of me has known this could be a possibility, but hearing her label it has something clicking into place in my brain. She gets it.

“I spent most of my life knowing I was different and not being able to explain it. So I masked to fit in. I’m super intuitive and notice things most people don’t. I pick up on patterns and figured out who I needed to be to fit into any group. Few people saw the real me, only Summer and RJ for years. When I married Kris, it was one of the best things for me, as weird as it sounds. I didn’t have to fit into a box to make someone love me. It was an arrangement that became the deepest friendship. He saw the real me and still wanted me to be the mother of his children. And I warned him that I was weird.”

“You’re not weird.”

“Oh, I am, and that’s okay. Everyone is weird to someone else—you just have to find your own group of weirdos. Kris was my kind of weirdo. You’re my kind of weirdo.”

I stare at her like a lovestruck fool, thrilled by her claiming words.

“It wasn’t until Jonah was diagnosed that I realized I’m autistic too. My weirdness suddenly made sense. The emotional dysregulation, struggling to control my impulses, the repetitive movements I did that were the only thing that would calm me down. I could never operate in the shades of gray that most people are comfortable navigating. I still struggle with that sometimes. I need logic to calm my brain. And I want to clarify, I’m not saying having autism makes me weird. Weirdness is beautiful. It’s another way of highlighting what makes us different, or unique. It’s just a word like fat. We can choose to use it as a label with a negative connotation, or we can embrace it as a badge of honor. I’m weird. I’m autistic. I’m wonderful.”

I push up from the floor, needing to be close to her, needing to touch her. It takes seconds to cross the room to her. “You’re incredible.”

“So are you. You’re wonderful just the way you are. Passionate. Messy. Scattered. Loud. Witty. You love hard. You show up for people even when you’re drained. You care even in the quiet of routine. You’re consistently inconsistent. But that’s who you are. And you will thrive with the right people around you. When I found Bella and Lucy, they accepted my weirdness just like Summer. And we seem to all balance each other out. They like my Raven logic, never judging me for seeing the world differently than they do. But I feel like you never had that.”

“I didn’t.” I blink slowly, processing her words. That’s what she’s been doing for me.

“You do now. Because I see you and your weirdness.”

“I like you.” I lean down, pressing a tentative kiss to her forehead.

“I like you too.” She kisses my cheek.

“I want to watch you fuck yourself with my dick.”

Fuck, why did I say that and ruin this sweet moment?

“You want to have sex with me?”

“Well, yeah, obviously, but that’s not what I meant.”

She crosses her arms, and I mentally kick myself for my ineptitude. “I want to watch you with my toy.”