It was always the same.
Every time.
“I didn’t tell her to hurt you.” Monti stepped up next to Fallon, not able to tear her gaze away from her mother’s grave.
“I know you didn’t.” Fallon sighed heavily. She grabbed Monti’s arm, wrapped her hands around it, and rested her head on Monti’s shoulder. “You told her because you like her.”
“I told her because we were in the middle of a huge argument. I couldn’t really avoid it.”
“Sure you could have. You’re brilliant at avoiding. You just didn’t want to.”
Monti held back her retort. Fallon was wrong. She had to be. Because if she was right, that would mean there was way more between her and Athena than there should be. Athena was her client and nothing more.
Except that was a lie.
One of the biggest that Monti had ever told herself.
She backtracked and closed her eyes, listening to her body first and then her emotions. There was definite attraction there. The kiss, while awkward and stymied, had been good. Monti had been the one to stop them because she had to. For so many reasons.
Athena was married.
They had a complicated relationship.
Athena wasn’t ready to trust.
Monti would be leaving soon.
Frowning, Monti played over those objections again. The marriage thing hadn’t seemed to be an issue for Athena. At all. And if Kevin was allowed extramarital affairs, why wouldn’t Athena be?
“Has Athena ever dated someone?”
“What?” Fallon turned on her sharply. “We’re at our mother’s grave and that’s what you want to talk about?”
“Sorry.” Monti wrinkled her nose. “Just a thought that popped in my head.”
But it wasn’t the only one. The complications were only there because of the fact that Athena had hired Monti to do a job. One that was going to create this sense of connection between them. One where Monti was required to provide a safe place for Athena. And yet that entire relationship had been twisted into something else, something that Monti had never allowed before.
Because she was a professional.
She hadn’t left the business because she had done something wrong or because a client had. She’d left to find her own sense of peace. Yet here she was, wondering if peace was this elusive thing that might not actually exist. How could she tell clients that they should want to find it if she didn’t believe it actually existed in the world? Or perhaps it only existed for them and not her.
Athena was clearly ready to trust. But the question remained whether she would trust knowing that Monti wasn’t her therapist or that they were deliberately crossing those ethical lines. Athena should understand the conundrum that put Monti in, shouldn’t she? Did she even care about that? She’d seemed truly remorseful when she’d apologized. But Monti had still wanted to feel Athena against her again, the touch of her mouth, the taste of her lips. Their kiss had been nothing but brief. And Monti wanted it to be so much more.
But that left the fact that Monti would be leaving soon. She needed to leave and see if she could find peace. Whatever that was and wherever it was. Because with it, she couldn’t do what she wanted to. She couldn’t be a therapist. She couldn’t help others through their traumas and their hurts. Because if peace didn’t exist, what was the point?
“Do you think it’ll ever be easy for you?” Monti asked this time, wondering if Fallon even understood what the question was without context.
“Being here?” Fallon responded.
“Living.” Monti looked Fallon directly in the eye.
Fallon sighed lightly. She wrapped her arm around Monti’s shoulder and pulled her in for a side hug. “I’m not sure living is meant to be easy.”
“But do you think you’ll ever have peace over what happened?” Monti rephrased, still not quite having the answer she was after.
“I think peace is found in having hope.”
“What do you mean by that?” Monti drew in a deep breath of her sister’s hair. She worked through the scent of the damp rain, her shampoo, and focused on the base that was Fallon. She remembered Fallon holding her tightly to her chest, hiding in the bottom of the closet. The loud bangs. Fallon as she jerked as each pop echoed through the closet door.