"Dr. Reyes, in Coos Bay. She specializes in trauma recovery." I trace the edge of my wine glass with one finger. "It's hard, sometimes. Digging through all of it. But it's also kind of a relief, you know? Finally having someone tell me that my reactions make sense. That I'm not crazy for feeling the way I feel."
Molly reaches over and squeezes my hand. "You were never crazy. Craig was just really good at making you think you were."
"Yeah." I squeeze back. "He was."
We sit in easy silence for a moment, watching the brothers play. Cole sinks his shot and does a victory lap around the table while Tate pretends to be offended. Shaw leans against the wall with his arms crossed, shaking his head at both of them.
"So," Molly says, a teasing note entering her voice. "You and Will. Living together now."
"Officially as of last week." I can't help the smile that spreads across my face. "It just made sense. I was spending every night there anyway, and Cole's place was starting to feel like a storage unit for my stuff."
"And you're sure you're not moving too fast? Not that I'm judging. I'm just asking."
It's a fair question. I've asked it myself, more than once. But the answer is always the same.
"I know who I am now," I say. "I know what I want. Moving in with Will wasn't about escape. It was about choosing something for myself. That's not moving too fast—that's finally moving forward."
Molly studies my face for a moment, then nods. "Yeah. I can see that." She grins. "Plus, that kitchen of his? I'd have moved in for the kitchen alone."
I laugh, and it feels easy. Natural. The way laughing used to feel before I forgot how.
We talk for another hour, catching up on town gossip and mutual friends and the various small dramas that make up life in Anchor Bay. By the time Molly leaves, the sun is setting over the harbor and the bar is starting to fill up with the evening crowd.
I'm helping behind the bar when Cole catches my eye and jerks his head toward the back hallway. The look on his face is serious, and my stomach tightens despite myself.
"Cover for me?" I ask Will, who's emerged from his office to help with the rush.
He glances at Cole, then back at me. "Everything okay?"
"I think so. I'll find out."
The back hallway is quiet, the sounds of the bar muffled by the heavy door. Cole is leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, the same posture he used to adopt when we were teenagers and he was about to lecture me about something.
"What's up?" I keep my voice light, but my pulse is faster than it should be.
"I wanted to talk to you. About Will."
"Okay." I cross my arms too, mirroring his stance. "Talk."
He's quiet for a moment, chewing on whatever he wants to say. Finally, he sighs. "I'm not trying to be an asshole about this. I like Will. Hell, I love the guy. He's been my best friend for more than thirty years. But you're my sister, and I need to make sure you're okay."
"I am okay."
"You've been through a lot, Gem. In the last couple months, you escaped an abusive marriage, moved back home, dealt with a stalker, and started a new relationship with a man who's...look, Will's a good guy, but he's intense. And the lifestyle, it's a lot to take on when you're still healing."
"You're into the same stuff," I point out. "You going to lecture yourself next?"
He has the grace to look sheepish. "That's different."
"How?"
"Because you're my little sister and I'm allowed to be irrational about this." He runs a hand through his hair. "I just need to know you're okay. That you're making choices because you want to, not because you're looking for someone to take care of you."
"Can I tell you something?" I say when he's done.
"Yeah."
"For four years, I didn't know who I was. Craig took everything that made me me and convinced me it was wrong, or dangerous, or shameful. I lost my sense of self so completely that by the end, I didn't even recognize my own face in the mirror." I take a breath. "Will didn't give that back to me. I found it myself. But he helped me remember where to look."
