“Might as well get started,” she said and clicked her pen, pulling out some lined paper. I hated how formal she sounded. No nonsense. All business. “Tell me everything you remember.”
I was still sweating from the petals, it seemed.
“What specifically do you want to know?”
“As much as you can tell me. Let’s start with the last thing you remember.”
Somehow, this wasn’t how I imagined this going. A beautiful backdrop, maybe out on the lake, dragonflies passing us by. A home-cooked meal by candlelight. Watching TV while I rubbed her feet.
Anything more casual than this.
But she needed the distraction.
And if my trauma was what she wanted, she could haveit.
I swallowed, trying to cast my mind back, fighting through the thick, high, black walls I had entrusted with helping me block out that time of my life.
“I don’t remember much,” I told her. “I don’t remember anything after I threw myself off the bike until a couple of weeks after I woke up from the coma.”
She looked down at the papers, nodding. “What did they tell you?”
I rolled my shoulders and tried to relax my ticking jaw. “It was a mechanical failure. Brake fluid leaked, and it gave out on the worst turn. I threw myself off the bike—as trained—when I knew we were going too fast towards a wall. Good thing I did.”
Because the bike had exploded on impact.
Fia nodded. Anyone who was in the motor racing world had seen my crash.
“And about you?”
I told her what I was sure she already knew — the way my brain swelled, the broken ribs, spine, and collarbone. The surgery.
She took it all in, writing down nothing.
Because whatever I told her, she already knew.
“Okay,”she said, clicking her pen again. “Now the mental side.”
I laughed. “I’m fine.”
Her glare was cute. “You told me you get too into your head.”
“Dr. Sannier wants to know about my physical health, that’s all.”
She went to speak and stopped because she knew I was right.
“Anyway, I’m going to get ready for our guest,” I told her and stood.
“Guest?” she called after me. “I thought we were going to bealone.”
Ah fuck.It sounded like shewantedto be alone — maybe she wanted all of my attention, which was silly, because we could be anywhere and she would be all I thought about.
“I promise you it’s a nice guest.”
She frowned, but I wasn’t willing to spoil my surprise any more than that.
When she came back downstairs, she was in a summer dress that made me look away, because if I looked too long, I’d start breaking rules. Bodri licked her legs, and I was jealous. She crouched down to give him and the others her attention, and again, I was jealous. I wanted her to smile at me like that. Run her hands through my hair. Pat me.
Do anything.
