Page 218 of Branded
Because he might look at me…like how I felt when I stared at my reflection in the mirror, like how my family had looked at me when they found out the truth, like?—
The babies in my belly rolled, jerking me out of my mind, placing me fiercely in the present.
And fuck, I was tired of spending so much time in the past.
I wanted more moments like last night, not worrying about demons and concrete and wooden doors.
I wanted more time with Raph.
But the demons weren’t going to go away all on their own.
And I knew that I couldn’t dump everything on Raph, every memory and complicated feeling. Just as I knew that I needed to share, I also understood that I needed to sort my shit if I wanted to have something good with Raph.
Which was why I was sitting on his bed, in his T-shirt, the blankets pulled up and over my legs, his pillows tucked behind my back. Tucked there by his hands. Thoughtful and kind hands that didn’t hurt, same as they’d left the snacks on the nightstand, and same as they’d cupped my cheek, kissing me softly when he’d gone to catch the plane.
All of that.
I had all of that.
And I didn’t want to lose it.
So, I was sitting on his bed, in his shirt, and holding Marin’s card.
It was after hours, but I knew if I waited until the morning to call, I would find some excuse to continue avoiding facing this.
I needed to face it.
I needed to excise this.
I needed to finally, finally move on with my life.
Still, I’d avoided this for decades. It wasn’t easy to shed that weight…so it took me until the second intermission to dial the number.
The sound of the first ring in my ear nearly sent my finger to the end button.
But I took a breath, held on, and listened to the second ring.
The third.
“Hello?”
Marin’s voice coming through the speaker nearly had me dropping my cell, and it certainly had my lungs freezing, lips tightening, any words I might have spoken (I’d been mentally plotting the voicemail I was going to leave) being locked up in the back of my throat.
“Hello?” Marin asked again.
I opened my mouth, but nothing came up.
“Hello?” It was impatient this time, as though Marin was getting ready to hang up.
“Marin,” I croaked.
The voice eased. “This is her.”
Right. Marin had been on my mind a whole lot, but I was probably just another patient, albeit one that had been referred through a friend. Easily forgettable. Easily discounted?—
Enough.
Shit, was this really the pattern I’d been on for fucking years?
