Page 1 of My Debacle with De Lorenzo

1. Isabella

January 13, 2027

Anger management therapy: Session #1

Never in my life have I experienced dread like this. Isodon’t want to be here, especially not with this nutjob therapist who’s been assigned to our case. Dr. Burkman is the same woman who counseled my sister nine years ago after she accidentally overdosed on painkillers. She was convinced that Cat had tried to commit suicide, which was the furthest thing from the truth, and even though I only met her once, she was crazy enough to leave a lasting impression on me. It doesn’t bode well when your therapist is the lunatic in the equation.

Dr. Burkman opens the manila folder on her desk and starts paging through the court documents. Dylan walks into her office then, casually late as usual. He barely spares me a look before he sits down on the plush armchair beside me. His broad body dominates the small space, and I shift a little before I become too intoxicated by the smell of his cologne. He places his elbows on his thighs and clasps his hands together, toying with the plain silver thumb ring on his left hand.

“Good afternoon,” he mumbles to Dr. Burkman.

“Good afternoon!” she greets sprightly, and I almost recoil at her chirpiness. “And what a great afternoon it is. We’ve got a lot to unpack here, so I’m excited. Dylan, I presume?”

“Yep.”

She looks at the documents again. “So, you guys are about twenty-five?”

“Yes,” Dylan answers.

“I turn twenty-five in April.” I confirm.

“It’s not nice to have your name tainted at such a young age.” Her overly animated tone is already annoying me because she sounds more excited than sympathetic to our plight. “Let’s make sure we do exactly what the judge ordered, so you don’t have to carry this around for the rest of your life.”

Dylan also seems to be bothered by her weirdness and nods. “That’s the plan.”

“So, it looks like the two of you have brought in the new year with quite a bang, huh?” She looks up from the papers and glances at me first. “Charges of vandalism?” Her focus shifts to Dylan. “And assault? Quite saucy.”

“I didn’t fucking touch her,” he snaps.

“Oh, you’vetouchedme, De Lorenzo.” I cross my legs, intentionally drawing his attention to my thick thighs when my skirt rides up an inch. A small smile curves on my lips as his heated gaze slowly travels up my body, making a pit-stop at my breasts before finally meeting my eyes. “Let’s not forget how we ended up here in the first place. It’s because you couldn’t keep your damn hands off me.”

That comment has the desired effect. The bear has been poked, and he’s livid now. I’m proud of myself. It took me less than a minute to flare his temper, but beneath that simmering anger is raw heat. I see it in his torrid brown eyes, the fire that burns for me. Even after all these years, he’s unable to douse it. I’ve learned all his triggers, and I know that it only takes a few words or one little gesture and he’s thinking about ripping my clothes off. The erotic thoughts my words have conjured up seem to piss him off more because he looks away from me and lightly thumps his fist on the armrest of his chair.

Dylan is a volatile creature, and his volatility has about ten different stages. The light thumping of his fist is stage one. It’s almost like he’s playing a song in his head and tapping along as a mechanism to steady himself. Stage two is a verbal warning, a polite way of telling you to back the hell off. If you’re lucky, you might get two of those. Stages three through nine are like leprechauns or dragons, some mythical creature because no one has ever seen them before. This motherfucker skips all of those, jumps straight to stage ten, and just starts throwing punches.

Ninety percent of the time, he’s relaxed and laid back. To this day, he’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met, tender, loving, but all it takes is that one trigger to bring out his other side. I used to liken him to Jekyll and Hyde, andHydeis very appropriate. There’s a part of him he keeps very well hidden, a side he never wanted me to see. He still doesn’t. And that side inevitably led to us falling apart.

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