Page 20

I put the goodies on the table and shrugged out of my jacket. I needed to just sit and be quiet and enjoy some chocolate milkshake for a bit.

My hands were trembling when I reached for the shake. Of course that was when Emery walked in. His keen gaze went to my hand, and I almost snatched it back like I was reaching for Jenn’s cookie jar or something.

Emery just raised a brow at me and came to sit at the table, reaching into the bag of food.

“Ville?” he asked knowingly, pleased and so disgustingly clearly in love it would’ve been annoying if it had been with someone who wasn’t the second best man I knew.

“Yup. I don’t know what yours is. I just asked Kira for your favorite.” I took a pull of the shake and watched as he unpacked everything.

His was a Reuben on rye, so he extracted it from my burger and fries, pushing those to my side of the table.

As I went to grab a fry, my hand shook still.

“That a regular occurrence?” he asked as he grabbed his coffee.

I shook my head. “Almost had a panic attack at the diner. The radio started to play the song.”

“Ah.” He didn’t need me to mention which song I was talking about. “That’s shitty timing.”

“Very.”

“So, Nelson?” he asked, chuckling a little.

“Hey, it’s a good, solid name.”

“At least you didn’t call him Bart or something.” Ah. The ever-observant Harrington gene in action.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up my burger. “Eat, so I can tell your man I’ve accomplished my mission.”

Grinning, he dug in, and for a while, we just ate, before chatting about nothing important until a more urgent case cut his lunch break short.

I stayed behind and cleared up after us. Then I grabbed my jacket and left the clinic. It was time to bother Trip at his store.

Chapter 7

Bodhi

This time I was the one avoiding Wren. To be fair, I was avoiding everyone because I was raw and tender after my admission. I couldn’t even say I watched from afar as my best friend and my family went about their business, laughing and enjoying their time. I was purposefully not engaging with anyone as I mentally spiraled, the feelings of failure once again resurfacing and taking hold.

It took at least three days before I realized exactly what I was doing and made an emergency appointment with my therapist.

Chandra was, what I’d once jokingly called, fresh out of the therapy womb. I’d found her on one of those mental health websites that I half thought were bogus shortly after I came home for good. At the time, I figured it would bridge the gap until I could get “real” help. The first time our video call connected, I was struck by how young she was. But it turned out that being one of her first clients, and her having just finished her master’s and being newly licensed, was a blessing. She was a straight shooter, didn’t sugar coat, and had no problem using popular slang and phrasing to get her point across. Best of all, she knew exactly what to say and do to help me cope. We were still working on the healing. I was getting there.

I also liked that she didn’t try to contain her facial expressions as we spoke. I always thought that therapists were supposed to remain neutral, and maybe that was how it used to be, but the fact that Chandra didn’t even try let me know she was feeling things right alongside me. As I spilled everything that happened and how it brought everything up again, she started grinning. It took me a few moments to notice, too wrapped up in my word vomit.

But when I did, I scowled. “What?”

“I’m proud of you.” She said it simply, without any fanfare, just a recitation of fact.

I scoffed. “Because I’m spiraling out and forgetting every technique we’ve worked on?”

Chandra rolled her eyes and snorted a laugh. “Because you told someone. Because you told your bestie specifically, when keeping it from him was keeping you blocked. We’ve been working toward that, as you recall.”

I opened my mouth to point out how badly I’d handled it but snapped it shut a second later. Chandra was under the impression that if I talked about what happened with the people who were closest to me, the ones who supported me, I’d feel better about everything. I’d thought she was nuts, since it was clearly better that I keep it to myself and not burden them with how it had broken me. But as I sat with her statement, I realized that I did feel…better wasn’t the right word. Lighter maybe.

“Huh.”

“I noticed in all your rambling, you didn’t mention telling Wren why it made you leave the Corps. Did you?”