Page 48 of Jayce

Thoughts raced through my mind, each one more terrifying than the last until I lay on the ground in my happy baby pose. As if on instinct, I resorted to my therapy. Deep breath in—deep breath out through my pelvic floor. Yeah, I finally figured that one out.

Tears welled in my eyes in between breaths, blurring my vision.

“Shay! Shay!”

My sister’s voice broke through the haze. While Anjal lifted me off the ground. He moved toward Jayce’s house, sending another wave of panic.

“No! No!” I forced my vocal chords to move.

“I don’t like this,” Anjal whispered under his breath. He carried me into the room I slept in when I first arrived in the labyrinth.

Priscilla crawled into bed beside me, wrapped her arms around me like when we were kids, where I wept until I fell asleep.

The weight across my bladder wakes me hours later. Confused at first, I push away what’s holding me down. I hear a moan. “Cill?”

“Hm,” she never wakes easily.

I climb out of the bed to relieve my bladder. How did I get here? Why am I here?

On my way back to the room I left my sister in, the words, ours, no one else’s, mate hits my memory, and what those words mean for me—for us.

Priscilla meets me in the hallway. I yawn in response to hers. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

I pull her back into the room and shut the door. It’s still dark out. Hopefully, Anjal’s super ears can’t hear us in his sleep.

“Jayce’s bull spoke to me last night.”

“I don’t understand. Why would that put you on your back in the yard rocking your feet like you needed a straitjacket?”

“I love him, Cill. I love him so much it hurts.”

“Isn’t that what’s supposed to happen?”

“No, Cill. Besides the fact that I don’t want kids, there’s something else.”

“I know you’re not secretly married, so I’m sure you’re making a big deal out of nothing.”

“Nothing! Nothing! How is not being able to have sex with a man who’s used to having sex every night not a big deal?” I blurt out.

Priscilla’s eyebrows scrunch. Her mouth opens to say something but closes before she does.

I fall to the bed.

She sits next to me and takes my hand.

“Talk to me, Shay.”

I huff. Tears spill down my cheeks. “I’ve never had pain-free sex, so when I met Jayce, I went to the doctor. Long story short. My vagina is broken. Doc sent me to a physical therapist for vagina therapy.”

She busts out laughing as if I’m joking.

“I’m not messing around, Cill. It’s real. I’ve had eight sessions with her—only twelve more to go.”

Cill’s laughter fades, and her expression softens. “I’m sorry, Shay. I had no idea.

“But if you’re in therapy, that must mean it’s a fixable problem?”

“What if I’m in the minority that can’t be fixed?”

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