The Expansion of the Universe

Eight | "I'm trying."

Liza peeked out her living room window for the ninth time in a row, her eyes sweeping what she could see of the street cautiously, desperate to determine if there was indeed no one wandering around.

She hadn't left the house since that day when she'd first seen Elijah in his driveway, and she'd waited to try again until she knew he was gone on a three-day cargo trip. While Liza was comfortable with—and even enjoyed—Elijah's continued company through the dark wood of her front door, she wasn't ready to see him without the protection of that oak.

Without the safety of her condo separating them, she wasn't sure she could talk to him the same way she'd been doing.

Though, even then, she didn't do all that much talking.

Checking the window for the tenth time, Liza deemed the street truly empty and moved to the front door, unlocking it slowly, the knuckles on her right hand tight against Milo's leash. Once the door was open, she peeked outside, her head sliding right and left to ensure just one more time that no other people were present on the road or anywhere else in the immediate vicinity before she finally stepped over the threshold.

Liza shut the door behind her carefully, then had to focus all her efforts into releasing the golden knob.

She would go up the street and back. There were no other new neighbors moving in, so she wouldn't run into the same issue that she had with Elijah and his moving truck.

It would be fine.

She'd be fine.

Milo licked the numb fingers of the hand that wasn't holding onto his leash, and Liza was, as always, grateful for his presence.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice nearly swept away by the breeze and the chirping of the birds.

"Up and back," she reminded her faithful dog. "Up and back, and then we don't have to do this again for another few days."

Milo wagged his tail in agreement, and Liza started down the front steps her progress slow but progress nonetheless.

It was certainly better than where she'd been a year prior.

Her legs shook when she hopped off the last step and onto the sidewalk, and she had to halt and catch her breath.

In and out, at least five times, just like Dr. Whitney had taught her.

She ended up having to take ten deep, calming breaths, but at the least the world was no longer spinning underneath her feet when she finished the final one.

"I'm ready," she informed Milo, and the dog yipped as she started walking, staying directly beside her as he always did.

The fingers of her right hand were so tight around his leash that they were turning white, and her left hand clutched at the loose fabric of the giant hoodie she was wearing.

She wanted to run back into the safety of her haven already, and she hadn't even made it past the little line of low-lying shrubs that separated the condos' driveways.

But she had to make it up the street and back—she had to.

If she didn't keep going outside like this, then her hesitancy would only make the world seem all that much scarier when she finally attempted to explore it. Or, at least, that's what Whitney had told her, and Liza could understand the reasoning behind the older woman's advice.

Plus, as reluctant as Liza was to admit it, even to herself, she would never be able to meet Elijah without her door separating them.

Sure, she wanted to get better, if only to operate like she used to, and she wanted to one day talk to the people she'd cut out of her life, like Mom and . . . Well, God, and Rachel.