“I researched something today when I took a break.”
“You? A break?” She nudged my hip with hers, a flash of spark in her eyes. “Unheard of!”
“Shut it.” I grinned, fucking in love with her face. Her humor, smile, frown, all of it.
“I’m growing. I want to be a better partner to you.” I led us to the counter where I had two pages of notes on different therapists we could visit. Therapy made me uncomfortable. Being vulnerable was hard for me. I saw it as a sign of weakness in every single way. The thought of sharing my feelings with a stranger caused hives to break out in weird spots all over my body. Yet I would do it. I could imagine my father’s words, gutting me with insults.You’re not man enough. You keep your shit private. What would the company think—that you need help? You’re weak.
His power to make me feel like shit knew no bounds.
I needed therapy to deal with him.
My throat closed up, and I wanted to toss the papers into the fire. Nerves took root in my gut. “Uh,” I started, my voice breaking. My face flushed as my body overheated with mortification.
This new dynamic between us was different. Laney held all the power now, and that kept me on my toes. I was used to knowing where I stood with people, both inside and outside of work, yet with her, I didn’t know.
Would she love the idea of therapy?
Did she like the fact I was putting her over my job? Her eyes had widened with fear when she said I couldn’t give in.
“I found a couple of therapists back home that I’d like to consider going to with you. There are options, and I know you suggested this before, and I didn’t hear you.”
As she nodded and chewed her bottom lip, the same unreadable look flashed across her face as before.
“What caused you to research them?”
I rocked on my heels, my hands moving to my pockets. Her tone was reserved, hiding her real feelings, and I missed when she used to share everything. Was this the wrong move? Was suggesting this now bad?
“We’ve been communicating better since we agreed to try, and I don’t want to fall back into bad habits again. If we have a standing appointment with someone, we—I—can make sure I don’t slide back.”
She ran a finger over the legal pad and scrunched her nose, her cheeks pinkening before she chuckled. “You mean this.”
She didn’t ask it like a question. It was a statement. Pride filled me. I did fucking mean it.
“Yes, hon, I do mean this. There is no part of me that won’t fight for you, for us.”
“What would your dad—”
I cut her off. “He’s out of our life. I know he’s a pain point, and I’m sorry for that. He’s had too much influence over me, and I’m done letting him get in between us.”
“Connor.” Her voice lowered, disbelief clouding her every word. “He’s not out of your life. There’s no way.”
Anger flared as blood rushed to my ears. “Yes, he is. I’m choosing you.”
Her face crumpled as she gripped the back of the chair. Sighing, she stared toward the kitchen, the look on her face causing my insides to tangle. Did I say the wrong thing?
I was choosing her, yet it didn’t feel like it was the right move.
“What is it? Talk to me, please.”
Pain flashed on her face.
“I’m struggling with how to communicate right now.”
“Okay, that’s okay.” I fisted my hands in my pockets. The evening was not going how I had intended. I thought—foolishly—that the counseling, my dad, all of those were the right steps. I thought she’d be excited about it, not… this.
“Laney, would you like a drink? I have beer or wine.”
She shook her head, not looking at me. Something had happened in the last ten minutes for her to lose the softness in her eyes, for this distance growing between us.
