Page 83 of Rather: The Therapist

“But you do.”

“It doesn’t matter. None of it matters, Priest.”

I sighed, releasing the sponge from my clutch and placing it where it belonged before attempting to leave the shower. It was impossible. My shoulder collided with his chest.

“I need to get home.”

“I never said you were going home, Rose.”

It wasn’t a desire of mine. I just needed words to fill the space. Though I knew it would be best to leave, I was stuck here. Mentally, emotionally and now physically. There was no escaping Priest. Not tonight, at least.

He cupped my chin and turned it toward him. He was so well-constructed. Dark skin. A fade with waves like oceans swirling his hair. A muscular frame. Peculiar eyes. Chiseled cheeks. A strong jawline. A nose that could smell roses miles away. Lips that were full and so fucking kissable.

“I’m not opposed to that idea.”

“It didn’t matter if you were,” he assured me with a half-smile.

With a shake of my head, I tried exiting the shower again. Priest stopped me, again, but this time with his hand around my neck.

“Whoever told you your feelings were invalid, that they didn’t matter– they lied.”

“No o–”

“Yes, Rose. Yes they did. Even if it wasn’t out of their mouths. Indirectly, someone has led you to believe your feelings don’t matter. Shouldn’t matter. But, they do. In this suite and any time I am around, understand your feelings are paramount. Your comfort is priority. Your desires… your needs… you– Rose. You will hold ranking.”

“And, when it’s all over in December?”

Kofi and I were scheduled to wed in winter.

“Stop worrying yourself, Rose. Tomorrow has yet to come.”

Sighing, I stepped back and looked up at his handsome face.

“It should’ve been you.”

“It will be me–until it’s not.”

The last three words were daggers in my heart, but Priest didn’t allow me to sulk for long. He twisted the knob to stop the flow of the water. He was the first to get out of the shower. Before grabbing a towel for himself, he wrapped me in one and led me out onto the plush mat. He slid the disposable slippers across the floor for me to slide into. I watched as he repeated the same steps, but for himself.

We re-entered the cool air. Priest had increased the temperature on the thermostat but with only twenty minutes elapsing, there wasn’t a significant change throughout the suite.

“Downstairs, there’s a small wardrobe for you. It’s still in the box. I’ll make sure it’s ready soon so you’re not digging through those bags for long.”

I hadn’t noticed the bags along the wall until his mentioning of them. He walked over to the smaller one and removed a red, silk crimson red robe. A silk dress accompanied it.

“Your skin is covered in fine bumps, Rose.”

He offered the 2-piece and immediately retrieved red slippers from the same bag. Even with all their fluff, they did very little to enhance the elegant pieces in my hand. The disappointment on my face brought a smile to his.

“Speak,” he urged.

“I’m underwhelmed.”

“Figured.”

He took two steps and began digging into another bag. This time, he retrieved a square box. He removed the lid and feathers fell over the cardboard. My eyes glistened and my heart’s pounding began another 800 meter dash. It raced, covering as much ground as possible as I anticipated the reveal of the box’s contents.

Priest held up the red platform with a single, thick strap across the top. Feathers covered the entirety of the strap, but didn’t exceed its stitches. The rest of the shoe was as plain as it was pretty.

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