Chapter 34
Rachel
“Can you tell me a little bit about why you decided to come here today?”
Because I’ve trapped myself in an impossible situation.
I took off with my ex’s kid, stupidly allowed myself to get caught, and now I’m back in the place I’ve always hated, but secretly felt like I always belonged in.
I have a child who won’t speak to me, a man who hates being near me, and a whole lot of murders behind me.
But I didn’t say any of that. Instead, I just shrugged and muttered: “I guess it just felt like the right thing to do.”
She smiled at me, and I wasn’t quite sure why.
“Was that the wrong answer?” I asked.
“There are no right or wrong answers, Rachel. I just ask that you’re honest with me.”
“There’s not really much to say,” I murmured. I fucking hated therapy. Why had I insisted on it?
Well, no, I knew why. I wanted Dante to come here.
It would have been fucking hilarious to see him battle his own thoughts and fight against his nature to lash out instead of opening up.
I really thought I was funny. That I had achieved a minor victory in his stupid contract game.
And then he had gone and turned the tables on me and dragged my ass down with him.
I didn’t want to be here. Therapy had sucked when I was a teenager, and I really didn’t see much improvement as an adult, either.
“We can talk about whatever you like, Rachel. There’s no pressure.”
“That sounds like bullshit to me. There’s always pressure.”
“I get paid either way, so feel free to talk about whatever you like.”
“I don’t want to talk about anything.”
“That’s fine. We don’t have to talk.”
“Great!” I grinned, settling back on the sofa.
“I should warn you, though,” she began.
Here we fucking go.
“I am aware of the contract in place between you and Mr King. And I am legally obligated to report back on how you respond during these sessions. I can assure you, the subject matter will remain strictly confidential, but I do need to fill in an assessment as to how you have responded and how co-operative you have been during these sessions.”
“What? Who the fuck put that stipulation in place?”
Fucking Dante! I’ll kill him.
“I’m not at liberty to say, but it is standard procedure when therapy could be used as evidence in a potential court case.”
“Well, isn’t that just fucking peachy?” I snapped, folding my arms. Of course, doctor “Call me Ashleigh”, kept her composure. She remained sitting straight, one leg crossed over the other, a notepad resting on her knee.
“How about we begin with your relationship with Mr King? Is there anything there you’d like to discuss?”
Where would I even begin?
“You could try from the beginning,” she smiled gently, as though she could read my thoughts.
I sighed heavily. “It’s easier said than done. I don’t even know what our beginning is. Do I go from the day he kidnapped me? The day I stopped fighting and let my guard down, which signalled the start of our relationship to me? Or do I start with now, our new beginning?”
“You can start wherever you’re comfortable. Would you prefer to start from the day you originally met?”
“I don’t know,” I sighed. “I’m not trying to be difficult, Ashleigh. I just don’t know where to begin.”
“How about your current relationship status? Let’s leave the past in the past for a second. Do you see this as your new beginning?”
“In all honesty? No, I don’t. I feel like it’s hard to begin something new, when everything feels fake,” I admitted, surprising even myself.
“What about it feels fake?”
“All of it,” I said with a fake laugh. “How can we begin when everything we do is because of the contract? What sort of start is that to a relationship? How can I trust that he’s being genuine with me, or if he’s playing his role to perfection, because he wants to come out of the next six months as the winner? ”
“Is that what you believe?” She asked in the same soft voice. “Or is it what you want to believe?”
“Why would I want to believe that?” I scowled.
“Self-preservation. Sometimes it’s easier to force someone into the role of being a villain. When we do that, it makes it easier to stay closed off, and protect our hearts.”
“I don’t think I do that,” I lied, knowing full well we both knew I was full of shit.
“So, what do you believe?” She asked again.
“I honestly don’t know. Sometimes I think he’s genuine.
I see the look in his eyes, and I think to myself, how could anyone fake that?
How could anyone show such emotion in their fucking eyes, of all places?
But then sometimes, I’ll think back to everything he’s done so far, and I realise nothing is impossible when it comes to Dante. ”
“But the contract has not always been in place. Can you honestly say every interaction you’ve had with him is fake?”
I didn’t answer as I cast my mind back to the past. I remembered him saying how I consumed him.
How he begged me to touch him. How he said I haunted his every waking thought and every sleepless night.
I remembered when he told me that the ball was in my court.
How he whispered he loved me. How, despite himself, he found himself drawn to me. He could never stay away for long.
I remembered the battles he fought to keep me safe. The fights on my behalf.
I suddenly remembered a lot of things. Things I had been blind to, because I was angry, or I was hurt, or… Whatever. I had been so caught up in my own feelings, that I hadn’t seen what was right in front of me. I had put myself first and hadn’t allowed Dante a second of reprieve.
Was he a bad man? Yes. Had he hurt me a lot? Also, yes. But there were also a lot of fucking instances where he did whatever he could to protect me, without hesitating for a second.
Was I the one sabotaging things with how stubborn and hard-headed I was being?
“Rachel?” the doc asked, bringing my attention back to the room. I blinked at her, and she smiled once more.
“Forget my last question. Let me ask you this—how do you feel about him?”
I puffed my cheeks out as I expelled a breath. How could I even begin to answer that? “I don’t know. And I don’t want to think about it.”
“Why is that, Rachel?”
“Self-preservation,” I said, and her lips curved up in a half smile.
“Sneaks up on you, doesn’t it?”
“You can say that again.”
“Why are you scared of your emotions, do you think?”
“Because what if I open the box, and I realise all those feelings I used to feel for him are still there? What if I just buried them, and they all come rushing back to the surface?”
Where the fuck were these thoughts coming from?!
I didn’t even realise I felt this way! I wasn’t coming back here. Bitch was a devil lady. There was no other explanation.
“Would that be a terrible thing?”
“Yes!” I almost snapped.
“Why?”
“Because he doesn’t feel the same way. And I don’t want to let myself be hurt again.”
“You know this for a fact?”
“Yes! He told me. He told me he doesn’t love me. Whatever he used to feel is long gone, because I fucked it all up. I mean, he has a goddamn tattoo of my bite mark to remind him I’m a vindictive bitch, for fuck's sake!”
“I see.” she scribbled something down in her notes. “Have you tried talking to Dante about this?”
“I’ve thought about it,” I said, picking at the loose thread on my sleeve.
“What’s stopped you?”
“Because, like I said, I don’t know what’s genuine and what’s not with him.”
“No one ever knows what someone else is capable of, Rachel. For example, my husband could be cheating on me right now. But I trust he won’t.
I trust that if there are issues between us, he will come and talk to me.
I trust he will show me the same level of respect that I show him.
Trust is a leap of faith. We never know for sure.
That would be impossible, as humans are unpredictable.
But we can choose to put our trust in someone. ”
“How do you trust someone who has hurt you so badly?”
“With great difficulty. I can’t tell you how to do it. But I can tell you how it starts.”
“How?”
“Communication,” she said simply.
I scoffed in response. “Me and Dante don’t communicate well. We either fight, or we fuck.”
“Both are valid forms of communication—provided you mean fighting as in arguing, and not physically?” She asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
“Arguing,” I confirmed.
“Every couple argues sometimes.”
“Not like us. Trust me.”
“How can I trust you?” She said, gently tapping her pen against the notepad.
“I… Oh, I see what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.”
“You’re asking me to take your word for something. I have no evidence to back up what you’re saying. But you want me to believe you. You want me to take the leap of faith that you’re not lying to me?”
“That’s different. I have nothing to gain from lying to you.”
“Don’t you? You want me to report back to your lawyer that you were co-operative, right?”
“Well… yes, but other than that, I don’t have much to gain from lying to you.”
“What does Dante have to gain?”
“I told you; he comes out the winner!” I said in exasperation.
“I did take a moment to look over the contract, and it seems to me Dante is the winner, no matter what happens here.”
“He always fucking is,” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “But go on, enlighten me. How is he the winner?”
“Either way, you’re living nearby. His kids are nearby.
He’s still a part of your life. He still gets access to the children.
If you fail, he gets the children all to himself.
So, let me ask you again: what does he have to gain out of deceiving you?
If he wanted you to fail, would he be open to communication?
Would he be sweet to you? Would he be trying to make a relationship work?
Because all he would need to do is force you into running away again, and your life is over.
But it seems to me, he’s doing all he can, all he knows how to do, to keep you by his side. ”
“I—How did you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked with the same soft smile.
“How did you see things from such a different angle to what I saw them from?”
“Because I’m not in the thick of it. It doesn’t matter to me what happens at the end of these six months.
I’m an impartial party, and a fresh pair of eyes.
A new perspective. You’re understandably confused, and your history with Mr King is clouding your judgement.
Whereas, I can see the things that might be blurry to you.
I’m sure there are other members of your club who agree with me.
They’re just waiting for you to realise it. ”
“Realise what?”
“That you and Mr King could have it all. If only the pair of you could learn to let go of the past and communicate with one another.”
And maybe that was the scariest part of all—realising we could have it all, if I could just stop being me long enough to let it happen.