With his lips, he proceeded to tell me what he couldn’t say.
Thank you. His kissed my forehead.
Thank you. He kissed the apples of my cheeks.
Thank you. He kissed my neck.
Thank you. He kissed my lips.
He repeated this circuit until everything disappeared and we were on an island nestled deep within the safety of our love. Nothing could break that paradise. Nothing.
Chapter Ten
The building was tall, ridiculously ostentatious inside, and filled with businessmen and women in smart suits that probably cost more than my motorcycle. Wes gripped my hand so tight I kept wringing it until he’d loosen his hold. Our palms were moist and sticking together as we walked through the building’s cavernous lobby to the elevators. I scanned the directory and pressed seven. Lucky number seven. One could only hope.
“Why are we here?” Wes sighed and leaned against the back of the elevator.
I huffed and leaned into him. “You know why. It’s time.”
“I’m fine,” he grated through his teeth.
Tipping my head, I cocked a hip and stared into his eyes. “Really? We’re having this conversation again? Because last night, I don’t think you were the one that had a hand around her neck, was pinned down while the man she loves went for her hoo-hah.”
Wes’s nostrils flared, and he ground down on his teeth so hard I could hear the slight grinding sound of his teeth coming together. “You know I would never hurt you.”
I got up close, pressed my chest to his, cupped his cheeks, and forced him to look at me. “Intentionally, no, I don’t think you would. But you aren’t always the man I wake up to. Sometimes, it’s the man who’s fighting for his life, the man who watched a woman he cared for brutalized daily, the man who, for a month, has used sex to put a Band-Aid over the gaping black hole in his heart. Baby…”
Wes wrapped his arms around me. “I’m doing this for you. Because I can’t fathom the thought of hurting you. I don’t want to ever repeat last night. It was lower than low. I don’t even know how you can look at me, let alone stand by my side. I’m so goddamned selfish. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you with me. Please don’t leave, Mia.”
Exhaling all the air in my lungs, I kissed his neck. “I’m never leaving you.”
The elevator chimed and the doors opened. We exited hand-in-hand, together but wounded. Last night was the last straw for me.
We made it to the frosted door that had Anita Shofner, Psychologist written in bold black block letters. I opened the door and entered a waiting area. In the corner was a receptionist’s desk where a woman who could have doubled as Angela Lansbury sat. She looked up with cool blue eyes, and her entire face warmed as we entered.
“Um, we have an appointment with Dr. Shofner.”
She smiled, picked up a clipboard and handed it to me. “Here you go. Go ahead and fill this out and the doctor will be with you in”—she looked up at the clock; it was a quarter to four—“the next fifteen minutes. Typically, a session finishes up about five minutes ’til.”
I nodded and led Wes over to a set of firm arm chairs. I helped him fill out the paperwork even though he was perfectly capable. The tension surrounding him could be cut with a knife, it was so thick. I rubbed his forearm while his knee bounced. Seeing him so anxious was new. I’d seen Wes in all different settings but never in one where he was openly uncomfortable. Downright leery even.
I twined our fingers together, brought his hand up to my lips, and kissed the back of his hand. “Hey, it’s going to be okay. I’ll be in there with you. If, after fifteen minutes, you still feel uncomfortable, we’ll bail. Okay?”
He inhaled deeply and let it out. “Okay. It’s fine. I just…I hate what happened, and continuing to talk about it makes me think that it’s going to bring it back even worse.”