Where You Can Find Me by Fiona Cole

34

“Areyou having another lunch date with Jack?”

I smiled at my therapist, thinking over what came after our appointment.

“I am. He’s taking me to where we had our first date.”

She smiled back, the wrinkles I was determined to have later in life crinkling at the corners.

Susan Hasselback hadn’t gloated or said I told you so when Evie brought me back into the office. She didn’t question my stubborn silence or the way I glared at Evie as she kept a death grip on my hand while she dragged me into the room and forced me down into the chair.

She merely smiled and nodded at Evie when she left. I’d considered making a break for it then, but I knew Evie wouldn’t hesitate to body slam me back in that chair. She’d strong-armed me into the car, and it was basic decorum that kept me from fighting her too hard when she took me into the office. That and the fear that Susan would call the cops on Evie for kidnapping.

“That’s amazing. And how are the dates going?”

“Good,” I answered truthfully. This time I didn’t force a veneer over the darkness lingering under the surface like I had when I first talked to her. I broke, I cried, I raged. I did it all because I’d rather do it in front of Susan than do it in front of Jack again. “I feel more comfortable each time we’re together.”

“But you know if you’re not, that’s okay, too,” she reminded me.

“Yeah.” I hated that answer because I wanted to be strong, but I’d worked hard to understand it was okay to be broken in front of people—even Jack.

“Good. It’s good to be strong, but it’s also important to know you can lean on others when you need it. Life is hard—recovery is hard—there’s no need to do it alone. Speaking of which, have you thought any more about Jack coming in for a joint visit?”

I’d already had a few with Jameson and Evie, and it’d helped, but Jack was different. Not that I cared any less, it was just hard to lean on someone who had endured the same as you. Of all the things Jack and I talked about over the months after, we never talked about Grayson. We never talked about how he had faced his own trauma. We never talked about his feelings, and selfishly, I’d been okay with that because mine had been almost too much to bear themselves.

But that was then. I was stronger now—actually stronger, with a support system I didn’t hesitate to lean on, and I wanted to be that for him too. I knew he had to be struggling.

“Yeah. I was going to ask him today.”

“That’s great. This will be good for both of you if you really want this to work.”

“I do. I love him. So much.”

“Then call me after you talk. Enjoy your lunch.”

“So, anymore grocery cart crashes lately?”Jack asked, his smirking lips almost distracting me from his comment.

“Ha. Ha. You’re very funny, Mr. MacCabe.”

“What can I say? It’s one of my favorite memories of you.”

“That one? Really?” I asked, my brow cocked, expressing my doubt.

His smirk grew a little more, and heat bled into my cheeks as I remembered the first time we met. “Well, one of the top ones. But that run-in was the time I got you to agree to go on a date with me.”

“Very true.” I looked around the restaurant and the familiar glass-encased distillery set up in the middle. “I can’t believe we haven’t been back again until now.”

“We’ll make sure we come back more. I know how much you love that burger.”

It was the way he talked about the future that warmed me more than anything else. Like it was a forgone conclusion that we’d have years together to go wherever we wanted. It was just the push I needed to ask him about therapy.

Needing to feel close to him, wanting to be closer each time we were together, I reached my hand across the table and stroked the tip of my finger over his longer ones. The tendons flexed with the effort to remain still before slowly turning, opening his rough palm to my exploring finger.

“Would you come to therapy with me next week?” I blurted, keeping my eyes glued to our connection. I didn’t know why my heart raced, but something about it filled me with an anxious excitement or fear that this was a next step that could make or break us. Susan was right. I did need to talk about it with Jack; I just didn’t know if he wanted to talk about it with me.

When he didn’t answer, I forced my gaze up his strong arm, tracing the veins and muscles past his neck and finally meeting stormy blue eyes swirling wave after wave of emotion.

I shouldn’t have asked. “You don’t h—”

“Of course, I will,” he cut in.

“What?”

“Whatever you need, Lu. I’m here for it.”

“Really?”

His lips quirked up. “I love you, and I want to do whatever it takes to get us where we need to be. Wherever that may be.”

Stinging pricked at my eyes, and a lump tried to crawl its way up my throat, but I swallowed it back down. “Thank you,” I whispered. “And I love you, too. So much.”

The waitress came, and we were forced to break our connection to pay our check. Then, like always, Jack followed me home and walked me to my door.

We stood on my stoop, barely a foot apart, his body reaching for mine like I yearned for his. My eyes traced the dips and curves of his mouth, and I so desperately wanted to press to my toes to close the gap and taste him but remembering what happened last time held me flat to the ground.

“I love you,” I said instead.

“I love you, too.”

With slow, cautious movements, Jack’s hand lifted until his fingers stroked my cheek and brushed my hair behind my ear. His touch was perfect. Only a whisper of a caress and slow enough for me to track each second—never lingering too long or pushing for more. Shivers worked down my spine when that same caress skated down my arm to grip my hand.

He squeezed, and I squeezed back—a minimal amount of intimacy, but almost as erotic and heart racing as anything else we’d done before.

It was everything I needed.

Perfection.

And I couldn’t wait until I was ready for more because while my body may ache for him and parts of my mind fantasized, the monsters in the shadows still lingered and held me back.

I just hoped with both of us together, we could banish the monsters, and I could give in to the cravings begging me to fuck him.

I needed it.

Jack

I fidgeted in the seat,trying to keep my leg still, but found it bouncing each time I stopped focusing on it. The blue walls should have soothed me, but I wasn’t sure anything could relieve the tightness pressing in on my lungs.

“This is for Luella—for us,” I muttered the reminder, trying to find some calm before Dr. Hasselback called me in.

“Jack MacCabe?” An older woman with her hair pulled back in a loose bun, and a friendly smile stood outside the door of an office.

I stood. “That’s me.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Susan Hasselback.” She shook my hand before stepping aside and gesturing into the room. “Come on in. Pick any seat that feels comfortable.”

None of them, I wanted to say but kept it to myself.

“So, I’m glad you came. For the sake of honesty, Luella has obviously told me a lot about you, but I wanted to take some time to get to know you myself before we all met.”

I slid my hands down my thighs and slapped my knees with a sigh. “Not much to tell. I was in the army, and now I run my own investigative company.”

“And you’re seeing Luella.”

“Yes.”

She nodded, and I silently added the inquisitive hmmm I expected from any therapist, but it never came.

“Do you have a therapist of your own?”

I barely managed to hold back my scoff. “No.”

She breathed the softest laugh. “I can tell just from your answer what you think of that.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“I mean no offense by it,” she explained, holding up her hands. “We all have our own ways of coping.” Readjusting in her seat, the slight smile fell away, and she leveled me with a serious stare. “Now, Mr. MacCabe. I try to never assume, but Luella has spoken quite a bit about what happened. Each experience is unique, but—as Luella’s therapist—this needs to be about her. I’d be remiss to not express my concerns about how your own experiences will color our session.”

“I’m here for her,” I explained almost defensively.

“Good. Now, if I were to talk about how her sexual abuse left her hurting, how would you respond?”

My chest caved, making my heart struggle to pump under the crushing weight. “I’d apologize,” I choked out.

If I thought Susan would congratulate me for my response, I was sorely mistaken. She lifted her chin but kept the soft look in her eyes. “She doesn’t need your guilt, Jack.”

I ground my teeth and swiped my palms down my legs again. “Well, it’s about all I have to offer.”

“You have more to offer her than you could imagine,” she soothed. “But guilt gets us nowhere—it gets Luella nowhere. This was one of the main reasons I wanted to meet with you before bringing her in.”

“What do you mean.”

“Luella loves you, and your guilt is her guilt. It’s a natural reaction between two people who love each other no matter how much we try to separate our emotions from another—especially one so sensitive. So, like I said, these appointments are for her, and if you bring your guilt into it, it may derail her progress.” Before I could interject, she held up her hands. “Not that I’m dismissing your guilt, but that is for you to handle on your own.”

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.”

“Are you? Really?” Susan asked, not holding back any punches. “Can you honestly say you’re in a place without judgment? Because Luella needs someone who’s honest and strong with themselves—not someone hiding.”

“I’m n—” The words cut off before I could utter the lie. Was I okay? No. Without a doubt, I knew I’d built a weak wall around the experience, ignoring its presence. I knew I was one wrong question away from snapping.

For the first time, I saw my emotions as something other than me dealing with them as a man who could shove them down. Now, I saw them as a man who wanted to really be strong for the woman who was becoming strong for the both of us. I needed to get on her level.

“No,” I admitted, hating the word. “I guess I’m not okay.”

“And that’s okay. Let’s talk for a bit before Luella gets here. Release the pressure, and then I can pass on some contacts for you to reach out to. I’d see you myself, but it presents a conflict of interest.”

With a nod, I humbled myself to this woman—I did it for Lu, and deep down, I did it for me.