Page 104 of Done with You

“Sorry,” Rayma said, a big grin on her face. “But we’ve always joked about how Dad says that. I can’t believe you picked up on it.”

“Started keeping track of it after lunch,” Aiden said. “Got over twenty. So I’m sure it was well over thirty for the day.”

“He’s such a … reductionist, is the best term I can come up with,” Rayma said. “Reduces everything to being nothing.” She waved her hand. “I don’t know. Maybe that doesn’t make any sense. I’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. I’m feeling good and would rather not think too hard about my parents. Might kill my buzz.”

Aiden nodded. “Fair enough. But yes, I understand what you’re saying. He never asks for more. Not even when he should. Takes the bare minimum and believes that is all he deserves.”

“Because he’s a trouble ducker, and Mom’s the fun police,” Rayma said. “Let me guess, his lunch didn’t come the way he ordered it, but he said it was more than enough for him and he never asked for a correction?”

Aiden continued to nod. “Yeah, how’d you know? He ordered a cup of soup, when I told him to get a bowl if he was hungry—which he said he was—and a half a sandwich, even when I said he should get a full one. I paid for lunch. Then his sandwich came on white when he ordered sourdough and I said I’d call over the waiter and ask for a fix but your dad’s face went the color of a Roma tomato and he told me that white bread was fine. More than enough and he didn’t want to cause trouble.”

“Meanwhile, Mom probably ordered a small spring salad, no dressing, unseasoned chicken and she didn’t finish it?” Oona asked.

Aiden’s eyes widened. “Yeah.”

“Booooorrrring,” Rayma sung, shaking her head. “Ugh. They really haven’t changed.”

“Did you feel super judged when you ordered your meal and it came?” Oona asked.

“I did. I got the two-piece halibut and chips with coleslaw and their eyes were enormous when my plate came and as they watched me eat. I tried to offer them some, or for them to get something else off the menu, but they refused.”

“Welcome to our life growing up,” Rayma said. “Shamed about food, shamed about clothes, shamed about everything.”

Oona simply nodded.

Rayma and Jordan both finished their wine and set the glasses in the sink. “I think I’m going to head to bed,” Rayma said. “With all the wedding BS and now parent BS, I totally forgot to go Christmas shopping, so that is on the to-do list tomorrow.”

“I’ll go with you, kiddo,” Oona said. “I already made sure that Pasha is on Mom and Dad duty. She’s going to have them over and they’re going to make a gingerbread house and bake and decorate Christmas cookies with Raze and Eve.”

Rayma’s shoulders left her ears and she smiled an exhausted smile. “Poor Raze and Eve.”

Aiden and Jordan both snorted.

“Good night,” Jordan said to Oona and Aiden, placing his hand at the small of Rayma’s back and steering her to the bedroom. Their door closed.

The intensity of Aiden’s eyes on her was an electrifying sizzle that she didn’t altogether hate. It heated up that spot on her cheek where his gaze landed and created a blooming sensation that spread throughout the rest of her body, settling, of course, between her legs.

She turned to face him, her wine glass nearly empty. She finished it, maintaining eye contact with him, then took the glass to the sink to set it beside the other two. “You had an epiphany,” she said, turning back to face him. It wasn’t a question.

He nodded.

She frowned for a moment and her head slowly bobbed. “That’s great.” Oh, that curious cat inside her was scratching and meowing. Wanting to know what the epiphany was about. But it wasn’t any of her business. Their relationship—or whatever it was—was strained and awkward, and she was absolutely NOT his therapist. She was a woman, who at a time, had been interested in him and now, unfortunately, found herself unable to stay off his dick no matter how much she knew he was bad for her.

At the thought of his dick, her gaze slithered down to his lap. She swallowed.

Oh, he was so wrong for her.

But it was her pattern.

She had a habit of falling for men she shouldn’t. Whether they were actually bad boys, emotionally unavailable, or literally unavailable like that biologist Ben. More often than not, though, her pattern involved picking damaged men. Because as much as therapist Oona tried to tell herself that she couldn’t fix them, soft-hearted Oona convinced herself that she could. That her love could put them back together and make them whole. Make them love her the way she loved them.

And even though Aiden wasn’t Russell and wasn’t self-destructive with alcohol, he was still self-destructive. He had trauma, triggers, and anger issues. He pushed her buttons until she lashed out, which made him lash out, and so the vortex of anger spun tighter and tighter until they were both so tangled, cutting off circulation, that they couldn’t escape.

It was how he punished himself.

And she didn’t want to be any part of it.

She didn’t want to hurt or be hurt.

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