Page 37 of Shameless Expectations

“We’re not doing anything.”

It took Monti a moment to realize that Athena wasn’t talking about the massage.

“Why wouldn’t you?” Monti asked back, keeping her tone soft.

“We don’t have that kind of relationship.” Athena folded her hands over her belly, wrapping her fingers tightly together.

Monti needed to fix that. She’d caused too much stress already. She was just working through how to ease the conversation in a different direction when Athena sat up sharply, her back to Monti. Her shoulders dropped, pulling toward each other. She moved her legs and crossed them. Her breathing was loud and ragged.

“Athena?” Monti rounded the corner of the bed, the front of her thighs pushing into the mattress and the fluffy comforter. “Athena, what’s going on?”

Athena shook her head. She reached up and brushed her hands over her face, her hair curtaining her face and making it impossible to see. A sob tore through her, shaking her shoulders. Compassion overwhelmed Monti, and she slid onto the mattress, keeping as much distance as she dared between them.

“Oh, Athena.” Monti rested her hand over Athena’s knee and waited to see what would happen.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Athena shook her head and brushed her fingers over her cheeks again. “I’m not crying.”

“Sure you’re not,” Monti said lightly with a smile. “It’s okay to cry, you know.”

“From a massage?”

“I believe I told you once that a lot happens in the body that’s affected by the mind. I’m betting this is just a big release of whatever you’ve been holding onto.” Monti squeezed her fingers tightly, but didn’t move them any more than that.

Athena said nothing, but she slowly pulled herself together. The sniffles became fewer between, the shaking of her shoulders eased up. Monti stayed right where she was, offering whatever support she could. They needed this. It was a connection, a pain point uncovered, and Athena was working through whatever her past was that needed to be worked through, even if it was in silence, and even if it was only a little piece of the puzzle.

Monti stayed right where she was when Athena took a sharp, bolstering breath. Everything happened in slow motion. Athena tilted her chin up, her eyes red and puffy from the tears, her cheeks stained with tears that weren’t quite dried yet. Monti’s breath hitched at the look of utter agony in Athena’s gaze.

“I’m here for you,” Monti murmured.

Athena dropped her gaze to Monti’s lips, then locked their eyes together. She swallowed hard, her breathing picking up. Monti’s entire body was on fire, telling her one thing while she forced it to do another. She wanted to lean in, to wrap her arms around Athena’s shoulders and hug her, to remind her that she wasn’t alone through any of this.

“Monti…” Athena’s voice trailed off, the whisper barely there.

What was that look? Athena’s eyes were back on her lips. Athena’s cheeks were red, but Monti was pretty sure it wasn’t from crying this time. Panic swelled in Monti’s chest, pushing up into her throat and constricting her airway.

This was common.

This wasn’t outside the normal behavior patterns for a client.

Monti had created a safe space. She had allowed Athena to feel and to know that she could do that in an environment where she would be supported. But it had been so long since Monti had dealt with something like this. It had been ages since she’d thought it was even a possibility.

And yet…

As much as she was scared, realizing what Athena was thinking, she wanted to close the gap. She was just about to move when she managed to stop herself. Closing her eyes, Monti did the only thing she knew that could save them from this.

“What happened twenty-one years ago?”

The silence was so loud.

When Monti opened her eyes again, Athena’s glare was unmatched. Her gaze was clear, righteously full of anger and hurt. Guilt was a brick in the middle of Monti’s stomach, and it just kept getting heavier and heavier with each passing second.

“Get. Out.”

twelve

“Hey, Mom.”

Athena tensed, the phone pressed to her ear. She hadn’t expected this reaction to Simon. She’d experienced it before, but it had been years. Shouldn’t she be better by now?

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