Page 51 of Mangled Memory
Me: You were right. Joanie is amazing. Thanks for the reference.
Jessi: She’s amazing for sure. {heart emoji}
Me: {blowing kiss emoji}
My load is lighter by the time I get home. There’s a spring in my step, and when I step through the doors, Corinne greets me just after the smell of something lush. She has a spread on the table and gives me a pat on the shoulder as she leaves.
“Dessert is in the warming drawer. Have a good evening.”
Oh, how the other half live.
Christian meets me in the breakfast room, grabbing the chair next to mine. This formal dining room stuff has to change. I get it—money and all that, but that doesn’t make us pretentious, old, and stuffy. A formal dining room is all of those things in spades
“How was your day? What did you do?”
I can’t hesitate. It’s like I know better. “I found a therapist. I’m struggling with all this.” I swirl a finger around my temple but open up the palm to swirl around my whole head.
“And do you like him? Her? Can you tell me about it?”
“Her name is Joanie, and she’s a ball buster.” I pause. “In thebest way, of course. I was referred to her. I need someone to help me sort out the tangle of knots and, while I have you and Halley and my family, I need someone who doesn’t know me…before.I need someone to listen without pity. More so, I need someone to listen without anticipation. She’s with me where I am—in the unknown, sorting it out.”
“Sounds really good.” He loops an arm over my shoulder, giving me a squeeze, before releasing and going back to his Greek stuffed peppers. “She’s a psychologist?”
“I think she’s a counselor, not a doctor. I’m not looking for a prescriber. I still have the other one. I need—” I huff a laugh. “Hell, I need an archaeologist. And she seems up to it.”
“I like her for you.”
Curious answer, but all right.
“I’m, um… I’m going to go out this week and get some shots. I need the mountain air, the breeze, the warmth of the sun. And I need to sit in that silence and watch the light.”
His face goes serious. “When are we going?”
I turn in my chair toward him, choosing a posture carefully. “Not we. Just me. I need some semblance of pre-fall Ayla.”
“It’s not safe.” His gaze goes to my temple and the scar that’s still bubbly and red there. “I’m not okay with it.”
I place a hand on his shoulder closest to me. It’s the non-injured one and I cup my hand there. “I appreciate that, butI’mnot okay with not being able to live?—”
“We agree on that,” he interrupts forcefully.
I squeeze and release his shoulder only to have him catch my hand. “No risk or low risk. Just me and my camera and daylight. I—” I look away but return my gaze. “I don’t need your permission and I don’t have to tell you. I’m going, Christian.”
The squeeze at my hand is more forceful than needed. It’s gone quickly, as is my husband. He stands, drops his napkin on the table, and stalks from the room.
Great. I’m left with only my thoughts for the rest of the meal. I bought the silent treatment from the brooding, angry man, who I’m apparently hellbent on pissing off.
16
inner wolf
Ayla
Life moves on at a glacial pace. Fall settles in on the Front Range and the crisp nights require a fire outside. The brisk mornings and the crystalline skies are my favorites. They practically beg me to come out and play.
Aside from my time with Joanie, I find myself retreating more and more. Fewer texts with Halley. Less frequent calls with Mom. The visits from Dad have been replaced with messages that I leave unanswered. If it weren’t for Cian and Eleanor, I’d be even less social than I am.
But I need her, and she’s good for me, so while he’s at work, I “borrow” her and take her with me to shoot. She’s some measure of protection, I’m sure of it. She certainly won’t let a stranger surprise me. She’s a great work partner. And since I haven’t been to the shop, and I don’t really know what’s happening with much of anything, our time together has become special.
