“I don’t know what to say.”
I peer up at him, and it feels like my heart’s in my throat. For so many months now, our time together has been marredwith feelings of doubt, anger, frustration, but as I stare at him now, it’s like that’s all melted away.
Not in an instant, and not because of this one gesture, but because… this feels different.
The setback with Seth made my emotions flare. I was furious at first, but once that burned away, I saw what was underneath. West wasn’t just acting recklessly. He was raw and lost his cool in the heat of the moment. He loves me, and he doesn’t always know what to do with that when he feels threatened.
He speaks differently, handles himself differently, and not only am I loving what I’ve seen.
I miss him.
Like,reallymiss him.
It’s gotten to the point that I can hardly fall asleep without him. It wasn’t always that way. For a time, I couldn’t find peacewithhim, now the opposite is true.
“Well, look these over when you get time, and let me know if I can help in some other way.”
“You’re leaving?”
He nods. “Yeah, I have an appointment.”
That’s all he says, and my head tilts.
“It’s… another therapy session,” he admits like he’s holding his breath, and yet again, I’m caught off guard.
“Anothertherapy session? As in, there have been others?”
He didn’t tell me…
There’s this moment where he pauses, like he didn’t intend to share this with me, or maybe just not like this, but he eventually nods.
“Yeah, this will be my second appointment. I’m on schedule to go every Tuesday.”
I swallow when a lump forms in my throat, and I’m now certain the man sitting before me isn’t at all who he was just a few months ago. No, he’s not perfect, but he’s something far better than that.
He’s healing.
I can see it in his eyes. Not that he’s got it all figured out or that he’s found some miracle cure, but he’s finally focusing on himself.
Which I love for him.
“Wow, I’m not sure what to say.”
He shrugs. “It’s okay to say you were right. Just this once.”
I laugh a little, but honestly, I’m so unbelievably proud of him.
He checks the time again, and knowing he has to leave, something inside me feels broken. Out of place.
“I’m gonna take off. Text you later.”
I nod, staring aimlessly into his eyes, fighting myself because there’s something I desperately want to say.
But… I’m scared.
Scared I’m misreading all the signs that he’s changed, scared I could get hurt again.
He slides out of the booth, then stops to place a kiss on the top of my hair as he passes. I’m tempted to stand, tempted to block his way, but I don’t move. It’s like my feet are glued to the floor.
