Page 114 of Honeysuckle
I rolled my shoulders back and she noticed the discomfort.
“I can’t help if you don’t talk about it, Josh. I can’t force you to let go of the memories you have to do that on your own,” she explained.
“Aren’t you supposed to tell me how to feel or something?” I snapped, harsher than I meant to be.
“Therapy isn’t a one way street, you don’t get to have all the solutions without doing the work,” her tone hardened, I was about to be mothered again. “You aren’t here so I can tell you how to feel Josh, you’re here to figure out how youwantto feel.”
“Sounds fucking stupid,” I groaned, my feet bounced against the floor as I grew antsy.
“Doors right there.” She pointed to it.
“You’re kicking me out?” I scoffed.
“No, I’m telling you that if you want to leave you can, if you think this is a waste of your time, of mine. You don’t have to be here,” she said.
I took a deep breath and remembered what Dean said.
“She would bring guys over—boyfriends, strangers from bars—and she would…” I laughed, tears bubbling up over the anger out of nowhere. I looked up to meet Riona’s gaze. "She would take money from them to spend an hour with me. It started when I was younger, it only stopped because I started fighting back and they didn’t like when I struggled,” I swallowed the bile that rose. “I was the reason she turned to drugs and the reason she had the money to keep doing them. I spent hours in that room, there were…” I picked at my nails and until the skin broke and I sucked it into my mouth as the blood welled.
“Josh,” Riona said, making me look at her again, “there were, what?”
“Locks on the outside, sometimes days would pass before she’d let me out, or let them in,” I confessed. “I can feel them on me, in me, their hands passing over my skin like sandpaper even though they stopped coming to my room.”
“I’m sorry.” The apology was genuine and softer than she normally spoke to me.
“You didn’t rape me,” I said with a bitter laugh, cursing under my breath when I heard how harsh it sounded. “I—” I ran my hands through my hair. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright,” she said leaning forward in her chair finally. “That’s the appropriate term and I’ve heard worse.”
“You told me I could leave if I wanted to,” I said, clearing my throat. “I don’t want to,” I felt like I was going to shred into nothing in front of her. The worst part is she didn’t look at me any differently, her expression remained unchanged. “I can’t touch him without…freaking out and I want to.”
“Dean?” She asked. "You want to be able to touch him without a panic attack?” I nodded and she smiled at me. “Don’t they warn you against attaching your recovery to another person?”
“Yeah,” I huffed, she was right and it pissed me off. “But.” I licked my bottom lip, my mouth felt so dry. “The last time I wanted something this badly I stopped drinking, cold turkey,” I laughed. "I was enrolled at Lorette a month later,” I said.
“Okay,” Riona said, sounding a little confused.
“I can’t quit this cold turkey,” I confessed. "I’ve been trying to work through it but I can’t do it myself, I don’t know how…” I said. “You’re sure you won’t tell anyone about this?” I asked again and she nodded like I was being a lunatic. “I want this badly enough to try. And maybe that means I’m tying my recovery to him, but…”
“It’s worth it,” Riona smiled. "Let’s try then,” she pushed from her chair and set her folders down on her desk, digging around for something. “I have a few books on cognitive behavioral therapy that focus on touch and intimacy. I guess you won’t be the only one studying this weekend.”
“Are you sure any of that will work?” I stood from the couch.
“I’m not going to lie kid, you’re pretty messed up,” she laughed gently and looked up at me. "But speaking from experience, everyone can come back from the ledge if they find the path they need to take.”
“Like a moth to a flame?”
“Exactly.” She winked.
TUCKER
Itfeltgoodtobe back on the field, nearly two weeks back from my suspension and winning felt even better. Everyone in the locker room was hollering and shoving as we flooded back inside and started to strip out of our sweaty clothes. Josh confined himself to a corner, but he was talking to Jensen, which was refreshing—and made me feel like maybe I was doing something right.
“I’m impressed, Tucker.” Silas came up beside me with his arms crossed, his gaze on his brother. “I think he might have just laughed at whatever Jensen said.”
“No.” I shook my head. "That was a grimace.” I laughed and Silas chuckled beside me. “He’s doing okay though,” I said. "He’s been seeing Riona. Whatever they’re doing is working.”
“You aren’t giving yourself enough credit,” Silas added as Josh searched the room, stopping only when he found us standing together. His jaw tightened, but his eyes flicked to me as Jensen talked his ear off. “He seeks you out when he’s uncomfortable, Tucker…” Silas clapped his hand on my back. “How are your meetings with Riona going?” He asked.
