Chapter 30
Frankie
S itting in the same office she’d frequented once a week after her stint in rehab all those years ago, Frankie let her gaze travel the walls, taking in what had changed and what hadn't. Dr. Krauss had done some redecorating, painted the walls a calming shade of blue and added some more of those affirmations she was so fond of in mismatched frames, along with pictures of her family. She’d gotten married, had a couple of kids from the looks of things.
And then there was Dr. Krauss herself. Still the same, with her slightly haphazard messy bun and her kind brown eyes behind oversized frames. She looked, as she always had, like a very stereotypical absentminded professor, if you ignored the fact that as kind as they may be, those eyes saw far more than you were comfortable with more often than not.
“Frankie. It’s good to see you again.”
Snorting out a laugh, Frankie rolled her eyes. “Can’t say the same.”
A ghost of a smile tugged at Dr. Krauss’s mouth. “Can’t say I blame you. How are you feeling?”
“Like a fucking failure.” The confession surprised her even as the words slipped from her mouth. When she’d come to Dr. Krauss the first time around, it had taken weeks for her to get comfortable talking about herself, her feelings, all that happy bullshit they liked to pull out of you in therapy. She’d expected the same this time around, considering how long it had been she'd found herself in this office, but apparently they were going to hit the ground running.
Tilting her head just to the side, Dr. Krauss regarded her with those same kind, too-seeing eyes. “Why do you think that is?”
That surprisingly easy slide back into old habits continued as Frankie pushed up off the couch to pace the small office just as she’d done before. “Do you really have to ask that? You’ve seen my records.”
“I have. Relapse isn’t failure.”
“Sure fucking feels like it.”
“Understandable. Do you want to talk about the relapse? See if we can’t pinpoint what triggered it?”
“I know what triggered it. I’m a fucking failure.” Tears burning in her eyes, Frankie collapsed back onto the couch, tilting her head up to look at the ceiling, painted that same calming blue, so she wouldn't have to look in the good doctor’s eyes. “I started med school a few months ago. Flamed out rather spectacularly. They put me on probation.”
“That must have been hard.”
“It was. School has always been so easy for me, you know? But for some reason I just… couldn’t hack it.”
“There’s no shame in struggling with something new, Frankie.”
“That’s just it.” Sitting up, she leaned in, suddenly filled with a burning need to tell someone, to make someone understand . “I didn’t struggle, not the way you think. When I put my mind to it, the material was… well, not easy because it’s fucking med school. But it wasn’t so difficult that I couldn't learn it.”
As always, there was no judgment in Dr. Krauss’s eyes. “So what do you think happened?”
“I don’t know how to explain, really. It was almost like I lost interest, I guess? I just hit this wall where I dreaded the thought of going to class and when I was in class I wanted to be anywhere else.”
“That’s not an uncommon feeling, even for people who are doing something they genuinely enjoy.”
“It was uncommon for me.”
“I see.” Frowning slightly, Dr. Krauss tapped her pen against the binder in her lap. “Let me ask you something. Why did you want to go to med school in the first place?”
“To be a doctor.” Duh. Why does anyone go to med school?
“And why do you want to be a doctor?”
Okay, that question was a little harder to answer. Frowning, Frankie leaned back against the couch again as she considered it. “I want to help people. Make a difference. I like… fixing things for people, I guess.”
“That’s an excellent reason to become a doctor. What was your specialty going to be?”
“Surgery.” When Dr. Krauss opened her mouth, Frankie held up a hand. “I already know you’re going to ask ‘Why surgery?’ And the answer is, I don’t really know. Other than my parents pushed hard for it and it was easier to give in than fight them on it.”
“Do you think that might have something to do with why you struggled so hard in school?”
“Why would it? Even if I changed my mind about becoming a surgeon I’d still need to finish school. It’s been my dream forever.”
“The subconscious is a powerful thing, Frankie. If some part of you was resistant to the path you’d agreed to take just to make your parents happy, then the inability to focus, the lack of interest in your classes all could have been your brain secretly trying to nudge you back on the right track.”
“Well, then my brain is a fucking asshole.”
Grinning now, Dr. Krauss lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Most brains are, in my experience. But would you have listened if it hadn’t forced you to?”
“Maybe.” Probably not. She’d been so dead set on her path, even if it wasn’t her path, that she wouldn’t have stopped for anything less than a full screeching halt. Which was exactly what her subconscious had given her. “Okay, yeah, maybe not. So, what do I do now?”
“You can’t return to class until next semester, correct?”
“Yeah.”
“Then for now, let’s focus on your recovery. Getting you back to a place where you feel safe and comfortable, and then we can talk about school. In the meantime, maybe take some time and think about what you want out of school. Not what your parents want.”
“That’s easier said than done.”
“I know.” Dr. Krauss opened her mouth, then pressed her lips together in a thin line, clearly weighing her next words. “If I may speak freely?”
“Of course.”
“Love shouldn’t come with strings attached. You deserve more than sacrificing your own health to try and earn what they call love.”
Although they’d been talking about her parents, her mind immediately went to Holden. And even though his love came with rules and demands, they’d never felt like strings. With him, she knew she could fuck up, over and over, and he’d still be there. Even when she’d tried her damnedest to push him away, he’d stayed. Waiting for her. Steady as a rock, patient as ever. Never demanding more of her than she could give, never asking her to change herself to suit him.
And for the first time in her life, she found herself believing she might actually deserve that version of love.
Holden
The door to the room Frankie had disappeared into nearly an hour ago opened and his babygirl stepped out, a soft smile on her lips. A smile that only widened when her eyes met his.
“Just a sec. I need to schedule my appointment for next week.”
Nodding, he closed his laptop, packing it away as she went to talk to the receptionist. And, to his immense relief, he overheard her setting up a weekly standing appointment for the same time every Friday.
He waited until they were back in his SUV to question her. “How did it go?”
“Good, actually. Better than I was expecting.”
“Am I allowed to ask about it, or is that against the rules?”
Her laugh, low and throaty and music to his goddamn ears after everything they’d been through, filled the car. “You can ask, but I reserve the right to keep some things to myself. At least for now.”
“Fair enough. So… what did you talk about?”
“My relapse, mostly. I told her what we’d been doing, keeping me on a strict meal schedule, reintroducing my forbidden foods, that kind of thing and she’s completely on board with it all. You did good, Dr. Prescott.”
“I am nothing if not thorough when it comes to research.”
“And it shows.” Silence fell, heavy with expectation, and he let it drag out, waited for her to say whatever else was on her mind. “We, ah, talked about school. And my parents.”
Her fucking parents. “How’d that go?”
“It was… enlightening.”
“How so?”
Another long, weighty silence. “Did I ever tell you why I wanted to become a surgeon?”
The segue felt random, but he had a hunch it was anything but. “Not really.”
“It was my father’s idea. When I told him I wanted to be a doctor, he balked at first. Our family has a long legacy in the business world, and since my mother was either unable or unwilling to provide him any more heirs, I was pretty much his only hope. But eventually he gave in, on one condition.”
“You had to become a surgeon.”
“Yeah. I was still in middle school at the time, and I hadn’t really given much thought to what kind of doctor I wanted to be, so it seemed like a fair enough compromise. But now, well, I’m not so sure.”
If he ever got his hand the assholes who had given birth to her… “It’s fucking ridiculous to expect a child to choose her life path before she’s old enough to vote.”
“It really is, but that’s the way things are done in our circles. Lottie is the exception, rather than the rule. Her dad, well, he kind of fell apart when her mom died so he wasn’t really present, I guess is the best way to put it, to force anything on her. But pretty much everyone else I know, that’s just the way it works. Wealth comes with expectations. And as I said, I’m my father’s only heir.” She snorted out a laugh, tinged with bitterness. “A disappointment to him from the womb, to hear him say it.”
“What does that mean?”
From the corner of his eye, he saw her glance up at him, uncertainty stamped all over her face. “I should probably wait until we get home to tell you.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to be pissed. At him, and at me for not telling you sooner.”
The tremble in her voice broke his heart. Fuck the rules, even if they were the ones he’d put in place to protect himself.
Reaching over, he linked his fingers with hers, bringing their joined hands up to his lips. “Whatever it is, we’ll talk about it. Deal with it together.”
“Thanks.”
With her hand firmly tucked in his, he turned onto his driveway, his heart beating a little too hard, a little too fast. “Stay right there,” he said as he released her hand to shut the vehicle off.
“Yes, Sir.”
She was definitely not feeling like herself if she hadn’t even given him a sassy comeback to his gruff order. Trying to ignore the little niggle of worry in the back of his mind, he climbed out of the car and made his way around to her door. Without giving her a chance to argue, he reached across her just like he had when they’d first started dating and unbuckled her seatbelt before plucking her up out of the car and carrying her inside.
“I can walk, you know.” There was a hint of her usual sass in those dry words, but it did nothing to help settle his jumping nerves.
“I know. I wanted to hold you.”
Sighing, she dropped her head to his shoulder. “It’s really hard not to fall in love with you when you say things like that.”
Then what are you waiting for?
It wasn’t the time or the place to push her for answer on that front, so he kept the questions to himself as he carried her to the living room and settled with her on his lap. “No more stalling. What is it you didn’t tell me?”
Silence filled the space between them, dragging out for several long seconds before she sighed. “You have to promise you won’t get mad.”
“I can’t promise that. But I do promise to listen to whatever it is you have to say.”
“Good enough, I guess.” Wiggling a bit in his arms, she shifted so she was looking him in the eye, but only for a moment before her gaze dropped to his chest. Placing a finger under her chin, he nudged her head back up, forcing him to meet his gaze again. Her bottom lip trembled, but then she firmed it up again, determination filling her eyes.
“Okay. So. You remember the day I got that speeding ticket and I said I was distracted?”
How could he forget? “Yes.”
“Well… I was distracted because I’d just left a meeting with my dad and the dean of my school and it didn’t go very well.”
Hurt warred with anger inside him, making his chest ache with both. But this wasn’t about him, or how he felt about her not talking to him. This was about her. “What happened?”
“The meeting itself went about how I thought it would. Dad tried to throw his money around, tried to buy my way back into school but Dean Michaels wasn’t having it. Which I was honestly relieved about. I’m not in any shape to go back to school right now.”
“I’m really proud of you for recognizing that.”
Color blossomed on her cheeks as she smiled shyly up at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. It’s not an easy thing to admit you aren’t ready for something, especially something you’ve worked so hard for. Taking the time for yourself, getting yourself back into a healthy headspace before trying again shows a lot of strength and maturity. I’m proud of you,” he repeated, some of the ache in his chest easing when her smile stretched into a full-blown grin.
“I hadn’t thought of it that way. I guess I’m pretty proud of myself, too.”
“You should be. So what happened after the meeting?”
He could kick himself for pressing when the joy faded from her eyes. “Dad was pissed. Told me I’d been a disappointment to him from the day my mother found out she was having a girl instead of the boy they’d been promised. I guess they went the designer baby route and didn’t get the product they’d paid for. I don’t know why they never tried again but… yeah. I’m it for them, and I’ve never been what they wanted. What they expected. I’ve never been anything but a disappointment to them.”
Grief welled inside him. Grief for the little girl who’d never had a hope of living up to an impossible expectation. Grief for the woman she’d become, so deprived of love she couldn’t accept it even when it was freely offered. Grief for everything she should have had, that she’d been robbed of her entire life.
“Baby…” Cupping her face in his hands, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead to hers. “I’m so fucking sorry. I wish you’d told me. I never would have punished you if I’d known.”
“No, no, I’m glad you did. I…” She went quiet, and he swore he could hear her brain working, trying to find the right words. “When I’m with you, everything goes… quiet. Especially when you’re spanking me. Or fucking me, but I probably shouldn’t say that since?—”
Moving purely on instinct and desperate, clawing need he leaned in, pressing his lips to hers, coaxing her to open for him. And when she did, when she surrendered, he was lost. Drowning in the taste of her, the feel of her.
With a soft whimper she wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing herself against him, all those lean lines and gentle curves trembling in his arms as he once more claimed what was his.
Pulling away, she stared up at him, worry and wonder shining in the dark amber of her eyes. “We’re not supposed to be doing this. It’s against the rules.”
“Fuck the rules.”
But when he leaned in again, she pressed a hand to his chest. “No.”
That single word stopped him in his tracks. “No?”
“No.” Her expression was somehow both determined and vulnerable at the same time, a mixture that threatened to unravel him. “I don’t want you to hate me when it’s over.”
“Baby. I could never hate you.”
“Maybe not. But you were right. We should know— I should know this is what I want before we go down that road again.”
Nothing she could have said in that moment would have sliced him open more cleanly, more effectively than that. “You’re still not sure.”
“I don’t know. I care about you, Holden. And I love being here with you. But I’m still trying to figure out if it’s just because I need you or because I’m really in love with you. I’m sorry.”
“No. I’m the one who owes you an apology. I shouldn’t have pushed you. I promised myself I’d give you space but fuck, Frankie. When you moved out of our bedroom, it nearly killed me. I don’t know if I can handle you leaving me again.”
Maybe it was manipulative. But he’d always insisted on honesty from her, and he’d always prided himself on giving her the same in return.
“Oh.” Mouth dipping down in a frown, she stared up at him. “I only did that because I thought it was what you wanted.”
“Why the hell would you think that?”
“Well… we were supposed to be keeping things platonic. And you said you needed space. So I was giving you space.”
“Fuck.” Dragging a hand through his hair, he let out a disbelieving laugh. “We really need to get better about our communication. Next time you want to make a change like that because you think it’s what I want, ask me first. So we can talk about it and neither of has to guess what's going on in the other’s head.”
“I can do that.”
“Good.” He blew out a breath that wasn’t nearly as steady as he would have liked. “Good. We, ah, should…”
“Right.” With a smile that was a little too tight around the edges, she slid from his lap. “I’m just… gonna go upstairs for a bit. Lie down. It’s been a long day.”
“It has. I need to get some work done anyway. I’ll call you down when dinner is ready if I don’t see you before then.”
“Thanks.” She turned to go, pausing at the entryway to the room and turning back, her expression serious. “I’m trying, Holden. I really am. I know I hurt you before and I’d rather cut off my own arm than do that to you again. I’m going to make sure that if I take that second chance you’re offering me, I damn well deserve it. That I deserve you.”
Before he could assure her, yet again, that she didn’t have to do anything to earn his love, she disappeared. Leaving him sitting on the couch, wondering what the hell it was going to take to get through to his stubborn babygirl.