Chapter 4
FOUR
DOMHNALL
Dr. Ezra's office is quiet, filled with the soft hum of the air vent and the faint ticking of a clock that feels louder today.
Anna sits beside me, her spine rigid, eyes darting to everything but me. I can feel the tension coiling under her skin. I want to reach for her, but I wait, my hands knotted in my lap.
But then she shifts slightly, her knee brushing against mine—a touch so small it could be accidental. I know better. I glance sideways, catching the faintest flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she looks away again. I can't resist any longer.
I reach over, my fingers sliding gently beneath her chin, tilting her face toward me.
"Anna," I whisper, my voice rough with everything I can't seem to say right. "Look at me."
She does, reluctantly at first, but then fully. Her eyes, that impossible shade of multi-hued hazel, are glassy with unspoken words. There's a fragility there that cracks something open inside me. Without thinking, I lean in, pressing my forehead against hers.
The world narrows to just us—no Dr. Ezra, no ticking clock, no invisible weight of expectations pressing down on our shoulders. Just the warm breath between us. Syncing. Me and the girl I've loved since before I ever really knew the meaning of the word.
"I miss you," I murmur, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Not just when you're gone, but even when you're right here."
Her breath catches, then her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. It feels like she's grounding herself in me. Or maybe it's just because I'm the one who grounds myself in her. She's my tether to the feckin' earth.
"I miss you, too," she whispers back.
I kiss her then. Not rushed, not desperate, just... real.
A soft press of lips that says everything words can't. It tastes like hope. Like history. Like the first time and every time after. When I pull back, her eyes are closed, her lips parted slightly, and for a brief moment, she looks perfectly at peace.
I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my heart thudding like it wants to crawl into her chest.
"Whatever this is," I murmur, "we'll figure it out. Together."
She nods—the smallest movement—but it feels like a promise.
Then Dr. Ezra clears his throat gently, pulling us back to the present and the reason we're here.
He leans forward, his pen poised like it's waiting to strike. "I thought we'd continue working on communication between you and Mads today. Is there a particular reason you've brought Domhnall into session?"
Anna's voice is steady, but her fingers twitch against her knee. "I feel like Mads is working against me lately. I don't know if she's jealous or angry at me, or what."
That lands like a stone in my chest. Mads. Always there, even when she's not. But she's part of Anna, I remind myself. Would I deny any part of what makes her her?
"And you don't think having him here might upset her?" Dr. Ezra asks, his head tilting, curious like he's dissecting us.
Anna snorts, sharp and humorless. "She's obsessed with him. She'll probably be thrilled. She's always happier when he's around. Maybe she'll actually play along for once."
The words hang between us. My heart catches. Obsessed. But she didn't say I'm obsessed. She didn't say I'm happier when he's around. Does that mean she isn't? Only Mads?
"And how does that make you feel?" Dr. Ezra's voice is soft, like he's being careful not to trigger an avalanche.
Anna sighs, the sound heavy. She reaches for my hand, and I grip it like a lifeline, my thumb brushing over her knuckles, memorizing the shape of her touch. "Frustrated, I guess. I just wish we could all get along."
Dr. Ezra scribbles something in his notebook. I hate that damn notebook. What did he write? What is he seeing that I'm not? What secret code is he cracking in the tilt of Anna's head and the line of her mouth?
"How does that feel in your body?" he asks, as if emotions can be pinned to flesh and bone.
Anna releases my hand and presses her palm flat against her chest. "Here," she murmurs. "And my head feels a little buzzy."
"Excellent," Dr. Ezra says, like she's answered correctly on some test. "You're doing excellent work."
She beams under his praise, her smile soft and real. It shouldn't twist in my chest. But it does.
I lean forward, the words spilling out before I can stop them. "But I found out Anna's been lying to me."
Her hand tightens in mine, but she doesn't flinch. "I haven't been the one... having sex with him," she supplies, her voice a brittle thread.
Dr. Ezra's eyebrows arch just a fraction. "Is that so?"
Anna nods, her gaze dropping to her lap.
"I guess I switch to her as soon as it starts.
It didn't seem like a big deal at first. Domhnall knew he had my blessing to be with her, so I thought it was fine.
But then... he'd say something, make a joke about the night before, and I wouldn't correct him. Even though I knew it hadn't been me."
"Why wouldn't you correct him?" Dr. Ezra's pen is poised again, like it's waiting to catch her words. I hate that his pen will make them solid. Part of a record. Real.
Anna shrugs, small and fragile. "He looked so happy. It just seemed easier not to rock the boat. And then, by the time I realized I was switching every time... it felt too late to say anything."
Her words cut deeper than any blade.
"Anna." I grasp her hand, rubbing warmth into it, desperate to anchor her. And maybe desperate to anchor myself. "You can always talk to me. About anything. I don't ever want you to feel like you can't come to me, love."
She doesn't look up. "I know. But I already feel like such a burden. I hated to add to it."
I cup her chin, lifting her face until her eyes meet mine. "Nothing about you could ever be a burden." She flinches, but I don't let go. "You make everything in my life better. Whatever this is, we'll get through it."
"You usually switch because you're afraid of something," Dr. Ezra says gently. "Are you afraid of being intimate with Domhnall?"
Anna's head snaps toward him. "Of course not!"
"Don't answer so quickly," he says. "It's okay if you're afraid. Isn't it, Domhnall?"
I nod, because that's what I'm supposed to do. But inside, I'm unraveling. How can I live knowing the woman I love might be afraid of me? I'd sleep in another wing of the house if it meant she'd feel safe.
But every time I suggest space, she clings to me—and then she's gone, and Mads is there instead.
"She's been switching more often," I say, my voice rough. "Does that mean she's more afraid than before?"
"I'm not afraid of you!" Anna's foot stomps against the floor, a sharp punctuation.
I turn to her. "Well, that's not what your subconscious thinks, love!"
She glares at me. "Well, sometimes my subconscious is a crazy bitch!"
The words explode between us, jagged and raw. We're both breathing hard, our anger tangled with something darker.
I grab her hand again, gripping tightly. She clutches back, her eyes desperate.
Fuck, I hate this. I hate seeing her hurt. I'd give her the world if I knew how. But I don't. And that's the worst part.
I turn to Dr. Ezra, my voice ragged. "So what do we do?"
He raises a hand, calm as ever. "Be patient with the process."
Anna nods, but her shoulders are tight, bunched up like she's bracing for a storm.
Dr. Ezra sets his pen and paper aside and leans forward, elbows on his knees.
"Let's try a co-consciousness exercise," he says gently.
Anna groans. "You know she never plays along."
"That's alright," he continues, just as patiently. "The goal isn't to force anything, Anna. It's to notice. Just notice."
Anna's jaw flexes, her eyes fixed on a spot on the carpet like it's holding her secrets.
I see the way her fingers tremble slightly, even though she's trying to keep them still.
I want to grab her up into my arms and whisk her away from anything that causes her even the vaguest discomfort, but I know she wouldn't want me to.
So I swallow back my need to fix it for her and stay still, even though all my muscles tense with the need to make it better.
"Is that okay?" Dr. Ezra asks her.
She nods, a small jerk of her chin, but her throat bobs like swallowing the word costs her something.
"Domhnall," Dr. Ezra turns to me, his calm eyes steady, "you're here to support her. No need to fix anything," he says, as if he can read my mind. "Just be present."
I nod. I'll keep still even if every instinct screams to do more. In this, I won't fail Anna.
Dr. Ezra shifts his attention back to her. "I want you to close your eyes, if that feels safe. Take a deep breath. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
Anna's lashes flutter, then fall shut. Her breath is shallow at first. But she follows his words, drawing in air, then letting it out in a shaky exhale.
"Good," Dr. Ezra murmurs. "Now, I want you to notice your body. Your feet on the ground. The way the chair holds you up. No need to change anything. Just notice."
I watch her chest rise and fall, the tension in her shoulders softening by degrees.
"Now," he continues, voice soft as if weaving a spell, "I want you to scan your body slowly. Start at your toes. Any sensations? Warmth, coolness, tingling? Even nothing is something to notice."
Anna's brow furrows slightly, but she doesn't speak.
"Move up to your calves, your knees, your thighs. Notice any shifts. Any sensations that feel different from the rest."
Her fingers twitch.
"You don't have to name them aloud if you don't want to," Dr. Ezra says gently. "But if you do, that's okay too."
A long pause. Then, barely above a whisper, Anna says, "My hands feel... buzzy."
"Good," Dr. Ezra says, his smile small but genuine. "Can you sit with that buzzing? Just notice it. Is it sharp or soft? Fast or slow?"
Her lips part slightly. "It's like... like when your foot falls asleep. Not painful. Just... there."