27. Julia #4
Kai freezes before he ever leaves the chair, his hand dropping back to his knee. The obedience makes nausea climb into my throat. Of course he stops. Ghost always fucking stops and Kai knows the meaning behind the no.
“Julia…”
“Don’t say my name like nothing just happened.”
His mouth closes. I stare at him while months of memories begin crashing into each other so quickly that I can barely separate them.
Kai holding me in this room when I fell apart without ever touching me.
Ghost holding me upright against my wall.
Kai telling me that my no mattered even when nobody listened to it at eighteen.
Ghost building every encounter around making me say yes aloud.
The same man taught me how consent was supposed to feel while hiding the fact that he had already violated it.
“You wrote the letters.”
Kai looks at me for a long second, and whatever instinct he might have to explain himself seems to die before it reaches his mouth. “Yes.”
“You were the one outside my house. You followed me, watched me through my windows and then sat here every Thursday acting like none of that existed.”
His face pales while I speak, but he doesn’t interrupt.
“I did.” The admission slices through me.
I laugh once, sharp and ugly. “Jesus Christ.”
“I should never have done that.”
“No, you fucking shouldn’t have.” The tears burning behind my eyes make me angrier because I do not want to cry in this room, not in front of him, not after everything he has already been allowed to see.
“I trusted you.” The words come out quieter than everything else I have said, but somehow they hurt more. My throat feels scraped raw around them, and when Kai looks at me, whatever remains of that careful professional composure disappears from his face.
“I trusted you with things I had never said to another person. Things I could barely fucking say to myself.” My fingers tighten around the strap of my bag because they have started shaking, and I need something solid enough to hold onto.
“I sat in that chair and told you about being raped. I told you about my father, my mother, the things I hated about myself, the things I was ashamed of, and every single time you made me believe this was the one place where I could say those things without wondering what somebody would do with them afterward.”
Kai doesn’t move. His hands stay open against his knees, as though even reaching for me would be another thing he has no right to do.
“And then you followed me home.”
Pain flickers across his face. I feel none of the satisfaction I thought I might.
“You took everything I gave you in here, put on a fucking mask and used it to become exactly the kind of man you knew would get under my skin.”
His head shakes immediately. “That wasn’t why—”
“Oh, I don’t give a shit why.” The words tear out of me sharply enough that he stops.
My chest burns with every breath now, anger and humiliation twisting together until I can barely tell them apart.
“Do you understand how this looks from where I’m standing?
You knew every vulnerable thing about me.
You knew what I wanted, what scared me, how desperate I was to feel like my choices belonged to me again, and then you turned yourself into somebody who could give me exactly that. ”
“Julia, I never used what you told me here to get you into bed.”
The hurt in his voice is unmistakable. Good. I want that sentence to hurt him.
“So what?” I laugh, but there is no humor in the sound. “You want credit because getting a good fuck wasn’t the original plan?”
His face changes like I slapped him. For the first time, I see something close to genuine anguish break through the control he has worn since I walked into the room.
“That was never what you were to me.”
“I don’t care what I was to you.” My voice cracks, and I hate it, but I refuse to lower it now.
“I care what you were to me. You were my therapist, Kai. I trusted you because that was your job, and then I trusted Ghost because I thought he was someone else. You let me decide what each of you was allowed to know while knowing there was never an actual choice, because you already had both sides of me.”
Kai looks down for a fraction of a second.
“You took that from me,” I say, quieter now, and somehow the words land harder without the volume. “After everything I told you about what it feels like when somebody decides my no doesn’t matter, you still found another way to make a choice for me without letting me know I was making it.”
His eyes lift back to mine, full of something I can’t bear to look at for long. “You’re right.”
“Stop agreeing with me like this is another breakthrough.” The anger surges again, hot enough to steady my hands.
“You are not my therapist anymore. Not after today, not ever again. I don’t want a transfer conversation with you, I don’t want an explanation, and I do not want you deciding what is best for me one more fucking time. ”
He swallows, then nods once. “Mara can handle whatever you need administratively.”
“Good. Because I don’t want to speak to you.” I reach for the door, but there is still one thing left to say, and I need him to hear every word of it. “And Ghost is done too.”
Kai goes completely still.
“No more letters. No more riding past my house, no more standing in the trees, no more unlocked doors and absolutely no more deciding that because I wanted you before, you still have access to me now.” My grip tightens around the handle until the metal presses painfully into my palm.
“If I see you anywhere near my house, Kai, I will report you. I mean that. I don’t care whether you’re on the sidewalk, across the street or sitting on that fucking bike two blocks away. You stay away from me.”
He closes his eyes briefly, and when he opens them again, there is nothing left for either of us to say.
I pull the door open and walk out before my body has the chance to betray how close I am to falling apart.
Mara looks up the instant I cross reception, concern appearing on her face when she sees mine, but I move past her too quickly for her to ask anything and push through the stairwell door instead of waiting for the elevator.
The concrete steps blur beneath me as I descend, one hand dragging along the cold metal railing while every breath catches painfully in my chest. I need air, distance, anything that gets me farther away from that office before the anger holding me together gives way to everything underneath it.
For months, Kai had been the person I went to whenever my world stopped making sense. Now he is the reason it doesn’t, and I have no idea how the hell I’m supposed to survive losing both men when they were the same person all along.