Page 160 of Rather: The Therapist

My words replayed in my head. I’d given him specific instructions one month ago. He was simply following them. Yet, I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of him with anyone else. Neither did I want to.

Drawn to one another like moths to a flame, Priest’s eyes found mine from across the room. I blinked the wetness away, encouraging the prickling of my eyes to subside. This was no place to display my pain. I’d shed enough tears. I didn’t have any more to cry.

A slight head nod was all I could muster. The hand on my shoulder and the voice in my ear quickly became my saving grace.

“She’s pretty,” Roulette whispered.

“I hope she’s worthy,” I confessed, “He deserves the absolute best.”

Priest’s heart was pure and his intentions were good. Any woman he invested his time and energy in, even if only for a while, he meant well. He hadn’t experienced many, but I had a feeling that would all change now that I was no longer occupying his bed.

I had no doubt in my mind he’d try to fuck the pain away. And, I wouldn’t blame him because I feared there wasn’t any other way to do so. Not even therapy would suffice.

“Everyone is taking their seats.”

“Okay. I’m going to take a second to gather my bearings. My heart feels like it’s breaking all over again.”

“The restroom?”

I nodded.

“Do you need me to come with you?”

“I need to be alone, Roulette.” Gently, I declined the offer. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me. I’ll be waiting right here when you return.”

I gathered a piece of my dress in my hand so I wouldn’t trip over it and make a mockery of myself at my wedding dinner. Roulette kept the girls at bay. I could hear their voices fade in the background as I made my way out of the ballroom and into the hallway.

Finally alone, I breathed out the air I’d been holding hostage. I brought my trembling hand to my forehead as I traveled toward the restroom closest to the bridal suite and furthest away from the rest of the guests. My movements were unsteady. My thoughts were jumbled. And, my vision blurred.

No more tears, Rather.

I lifted my chin, trying my hardest to keep from falling apart. Just as I pushed the door to the suite, a familiar baritone soothed every inch of my being. It cupped my soul between its chords and held it closely, promising nothing but goodness.

“Rose.”

I whipped my neck in the direction it had come from. There he stood with both hands in his pockets and his eyes trained on me. In silence, I watched as he struggled with his words. His feelings. His truth.

“I’m so– I’m sorry.”

Sincerity and gloom were infused in each word. But it wasn’t his sympathy I needed. It was his life. His love. His laughs. His legacy.

“For what, Priest?” I shook my head, confused by his words.

“The hurt, it’s written all over your face. You told me that’s what you wanted. Had I known, I would’ve come alone.”

“Her?” I scoffed, taking a few steps in his direction. “You think it’s her that has my heart in the bottom of my shoes?”

The question was rhetorical. He didn’t answer because he knew I wasn’t waiting for a response.

“It’s you. And until I find the strength to forget the magic we created, it’ll always be you. Please don’t apologize to me for being a man, Priest. If you’re going to apologize for something, let it be the fact that you can’t be my man.”

I left him standing in the hallway. There was nothing left to say. All had been said over three months.

We’d laughed and we’d loved. It was time to say our goodbyes and continue our lives as if it never happened. It didn’t matter how difficult the task was. Life for us had to go on.

This wasn’t a breakup. We were never supposed to happen. This was a silly game we’d played and broken hearts were the silly prizes we’d won.

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