Chapter 5
I stand frozen on Jenny’s welcome mat, unease tightening my throat. This has never happened before. Jenny has always greeted me with a cheery hello and a hug. Lately, she takes our greeting a step further, playfully challenging my OCD fears around losing our baby with a bright “How’s my pregnant client doing today?”
Today, it’s like I’m not here at all.
My jaw opens and closes, my fingertips busying themselves with picking at my thumb. Is Jenny in danger? Are we both in danger? Whatever she sees out the window, she’s locked on. If I say something else to break the silence, I know I’ll scare her shitless.
But Jenny gasps, gripping the windowsill.
My focus zips outside, following Jenny’s gaze. I have to take a few steps closer to get the right angle, exposing a dark treeline—overcast skies deepening every murky shadow below the evergreens.
But that doesn’t stop me from spotting a familiar shape: the tail end of a big, black shadow, accompanied by Noah’s wolf heightening his primal instincts in our bond, ready to protect our pack.
It takes every ounce of control in me not to gasp. Did Jenny see Noah’s wolf? Or even worse, did she see him shift?
Our car conversation replays in rapid speed in my mind. Noah was afraid of keeping me from sharing enough, but now I’m afraid Jenny has seen too much.
I can’t control my anxiety, exposing itself in my quivering voice. “What? What is it?”
Jenny is silent for a long moment, leaning deeper into the window. Her fingertips grip the windowsill even harder, bending until they squeak against the glossy paint. I ease closer, my jaw clamped tight in fear.
Shit, Noah, are you safe? I mindlink.
I’m fine, I’m just pissed at this straggler ignoring our borders again after Yas chased them out. Fuck, did I distract you in our bond?
Locked onto Jenny’s frozen profile, I can hardly breathe. I’m scared Jenny saw you. Out her window.
Fuck, no way. I thought I was deep enough into the brush. Did she say anything?
She’s just... staring. My gut churns as an intrusive image flashes across my mind: Noah coming back home to me with fresh gashes across his chest. Again.
He can’t afford me distracting him like this.
Straightening my shoulders, I suck in a shaky breath. It’s fine, I’ll play it off. Act like I didn’t see anything if I have to. Or maybe she missed the shift and just thought she saw an unbelievably big bear. Focus, and I’ll update you later.
Great. Poor Noah must feel even more terrible than before my appointment, thinking the same thing I am: now I definitely can’t bring up anything close to shapeshifters in therapy. At least not today.
I’ll have to talk this through with Noah when we get home.
For now, it’s time for damage control.
Except Jenny is still so absorbed in her shock that she still hasn’t realized I’m here. I hate scaring people. Should I say something again, or does she need a soft tap on her shoulder to come to her senses? My hand hesitates in the space between us, but that seems like a terrible idea. If I were her and that’s how a client got my attention, I’d probably piss myself. Maybe that’s because I have to pee constantly right now anyway, but still.
Bracing myself with no choice but to terrify the poor woman, I wince preemptively. “Jenny?”
With a jolt and a screech, Jenny grips her chest. I scream too, causing Jenny to scream yet again.
The second we meet wide eyes, she lets out a breathy laugh, gripping my outstretched hand. “Oh, goodness. Aliya!”
I grasp her tight with a groan. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, but you seemed so concerned when I walked in that I wanted to make sure everything was okay. Are you safe?”
Stooping over in relief, Jenny laughs—her usual, bright smile on full display with bouncy, ringlet curls framing her face. “Oh, you are such a sweetheart. It’s nothing, just a huge animal of some sort.”
“What, where?” I laugh along warily, but my guts flip. She absolutely saw something. Something so unusual that she doesn’t give me a single detail more before waving me into her office.
“It’s gone now. Sorry to lose track of time!”
And now I’m ten times more nervous to talk about Mason, hobbling on shaky legs to Jenny’s cushy couch.
“Are you okay? Did that trigger you?” Jenny asks.
Settling into the cushions, I huff out a heavy breath. I’m a bit relieved she just gave me an easy out; maybe I can talk about Mason retriggering me after all.
But all I can do is nod. Post-adrenaline weighs me into the couch cushions, upsetting my already-rocky stomach.
“You’re doing a great job at regulating using your breath, so let’s keep doing that together.” Jenny softens her voice, taking a few slow breaths with me, in and out. After three rounds, she gives me a gentle smile. “You’re right here with me. You’re safe.”
I nod, but I’m sure my smile looks as weary as I feel. I’m tempted to shift with Noah, stealing him back to bed to sleep off the stress.
But Jenny’s grin grows. “Plus, there’s this big, burly, outgoing accountant next door that I could scream for help from, God forbid anything happens.”
I laugh, my shoulders softening. “True, I’ve seen him.” I’ve also smelled him; pregnancy made scents strong enough to bulldoze my brain with one wisp of a scent. Just walking by the accountant’s door a couple weeks ago, I realized he was another Greenfield Pack wolf.
“Are you noticing any extra anxiety or hypervigilance since your pregnancy began?” Jenny asks.
Anxiety stings my veins. “Yes.”
“Like what?”
Dammit. I don’t think I can avoid this any longer. My whole body tenses, warning of old PTSD symptoms resurfacing. Pregnancy exhaustion tugs on my limbs like I’m wearing a coat of bricks, yet I shuffle in my seat, unable to hold still. “Sorry, I know I'm a bit quiet, but something happened recently, and I've been a bit nervous to talk about it.”
Jenny keeps her eyebrows in check, but I see it: that near-imperceptible twitch of concern in her forehead. “Are you nervous to talk about it with me?”
I bite my lip. “Not exactly. It was just so weird; this one guy from our town was following me and being gross, except this time, I had a whole group of my best friends around, and I felt completely fine afterwards. Poor Amy was triggered by it too, though.”
Jenny’s eyebrows arch in reflected sorrow. “I’m glad you both have each other.”
“Me too,” I whisper.
After updating Jenny about my heart-to-heart with Amy, she hums in thought, tilting her head. “So what part about this latest stalking incident still makes you distressed?”
“Well, it’s over, and I’m talking about it with Noah and Amy, so it’s helping to avoid a PTSD-like reaction. But I still feel a little creeped out. Like he’s going to return. Just like—”
I hesitate, my insides churning; it’s been a while since I’ve been afraid to say Steven’s name. I don’t want to lose progress.
But Jenny nods. “Correct me if I'm wrong, but since we know each other kind of well by now—” I giggle, and Jenny smiles. “I have a pretty good guess about where this is going.”
I groan, shutting my eyes. “I can imagine.”
Jenny’s infectious cackle fills the room, leaving me laughing with her. But she’s right; we know each other well, and the second I open my eyes, I know she’s seen right through me.
“Are you worried that he’ll return, or are you worried about being worried that he’ll return?”
I frown, wanting to be annoyed. But I can’t help but let out a giggle. “Maybe you do know me.”
Jenny joins in on my laughter until our smiles lighten my heart.
I sigh, cupping my belly. “I don't want to go back to how I used to be. I'm really scared that I'll not only hurt Noah with my trauma now, but also our sweet baby.”
Jenny nods, and I flush; I didn’t expect my voice to come out so shaky when I finally admitted this aloud. Tears sting my eyes, and I swallow hard.
“Guess what?”
I laugh. “I know. Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.”
Jenny grins. “More like you most likely will. We can’t avoid making any mistakes ever, can we?”
My heart flips. “Unfortunately.” Jenny laughs, and I’m grateful to have a reason to smile again.
“Now, I don’t want to give you reassurance here, but could it be possible that you’ve developed the tools by now, to where even if your child does end up with similar mental health conditions, or inevitably experiences trauma in this crazy journey of life, that you might be able to support them far better now? Not because you suffered, but because you now hold the knowledge of how to heal?”
My lip wobbles, forcing my voice to come out as a strained whisper. “It’s definitely possible. I hope it’s possible.”
Jenny nods, her eyebrows contorting in reflection of mine. “I think it is. And I think this could be hitting you so hard because you care so deeply.”
“Which is also why my harm fears are resurfacing,” I mutter.
Jenny smiles bright. I know what she’s thinking even before she says it; I do have the tools. I just have to give myself a chance to use them before jumping to the worst conclusions possible.
But I huff. “It’s just hard to grasp still sometimes when I’ve had so much proof the world is unsafe.”
Jenny hums. “It is unsafe. And ...”
“And then there’s Noah. And Amy. Kira, Yasmine, Rainn...”
As my body softens, I run my hand over our budding child, imagining how many loving hands will hold them alongside mine and Noah’s.
I can hear Jenny’s proud smile in her gentle words. “ Exactly . Just like there are unsafe pockets in this world, there are pockets of safety that you’ve created for yourself too. There can be both.”
My eyebrows furrow. Logically, I know she’s right. I’m just having trouble believing it.