Page 39 of Mastered By Bliss

I have a choice.I can deal with it in a healthy way, or a harmful way.Two nights ago, I chose harm.No more.

As soon as I step out of my therapist’s building, I take out my phone.There’s another missed call from Leah.

She’s been trying and trying, and I’ve made myself unreachable and unhappy.

I call her back, but she doesn’t answer.I watch the cars whizzing past on Caro Boulevard, listening to the ringing tone, until I get her voicemail.She never personalized it once I gave her the new phone—we thought it safer to have a robot’s recorded voice.

“Leah.I’m sorry.I’ll say more when I see you.Call me as soon as you can.I’m coming home.I—I’ve missed you.”

She’s probably working.I can’t remember if she’s at the after-school program today, or doing her individual sessions.I’ll head home and wait for her there.I’ll make dinner.Something she likes.Maybe ramen.

I signal to my bodyguard.“We’re going to the grocery store.I need to pick up some things for dinner.”

I’ll get flowers, too.Her favorite ice cream.Anything and everything to make up to her for being a total ass.

I’ve missed my girl.I’ve missed myself, too.I’ll be glad to have us both back.Together.

12

Leah

Tutoring at the Youth Arts Center goes late, but Brody, my bodyguard, doesn’t seem annoyed by the delay.I’m in constant awe of all my bodyguards’ levels of patience.They’re ready for whatever, at a moment’s notice.It’s impressive.

I say goodbye to my students and give Olivia a quick hug.

“You’re really fitting in here,” she says, holding on for an extra squeeze.“I’m so glad you joined us, Leah.”

“Me, too.”I look across the wide-open room, at the different stations where students can do art, study, or even have a snack.“You’ve created something amazing, and I’m so proud to be a part of it.”

Her eyes and mine are a little teary as I walk outside, Brody just behind me.

The parking lot is quiet, not too many cars around.Streetlights illuminate the space, making the cars shine.Brody’s blue eyes scan the area, watching for anyone or anything that seems out of place.We haven’t seen anyone following me since that last time at the library.It probably wasn’t anything nefarious, and I’m still embarrassed for my panic at the time.

Better safe than sorry, though.I might have complained about having a bodyguard, but something’s in the air tonight.It has my instincts prickling with awareness.

Brody leads us to the car.I hop in the passenger seat—I refuse to sit in the back.Brody gets behind the wheel.He looks over.“Where to?”

“Home.”I’m exhausted on a bone-deep level.I don’t want to fight with Gage.I want to talk to him.I want to tell him, in person, that if forever can exist at all for me, it’s with him and Dmitri.And I’ll tell him even if I have to tie him up with those silk scarves and force a conversation.

I smile to myself at the idea.Gage, restrained and at my mercy?Ha.I’m so frustrated with him right now, there’s a certain appeal to the mental image.I wonder howhewould handle nipple clamps, and I have to fight off a giggle.

Brody starts us toward Caro, but slows at the sight of what looks like a billion brake lights.He scrubs a hand over his whiskers.“That’s not a good option today.We’ll be boxed in immediately.Detour?”

“Detour.”I take out my phone to check in with Dmitri before he starts his shift at Low Vice.

I missed a call from Gage.He left a voicemail.

I stare at my screen for far too long before finally tapping the button to listen to his message.

“Leah.”Gage’s voice sounds raw, broken by a thousand emotions.“I’m sorry.I’ll say more when I see you.Call me as soon as you can.I’m coming home.I—I’ve missed you.”

I’ve missed you, too.

While Brody navigates us away from the traffic, I listen to the message a second time, soaking in Gage’s words, his tone.The regret I hear in his apology.He truly means it.That doesn’t mean he’s off the hook—I need an explanation.If he doesn’t want to tell me everything, that’s fine.But I need something.Every time he ignored me, I felt my soul shrinking.

“Fuck,” Brody says, finding the next street blocked.He grimaces at me.“Sorry for the language.”

“Not a problem.”I squint against the sea of red brake lights.“More traffic?”

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