Chapter 38 Vanna
THIRTY-EIGHT
VANNA
It’s been a whole month since I last saw Stone. He hasn’t shown himself once, not even when Hunter comes knocking on my apartment door every evening with some kind of take out.
He feeds me and he talks about his day. How his coworker has been all over him, begging him to take her out on a date. How her hands are always just an inch too close to his cock when she squeezes his thigh or how her fingers find endless excuses to graze his muscles.
And as he tells me these things, he watches me, waiting for a flare of jealousy or rage in my empty eyes, but to his dismay he never finds it. Yet, it doesn’t stop him from trying harder.
I don’t know why I allow him to come over and shove his way back into my life.
Perhaps it’s that misery loves company and he’s as awful as they come.
I’m a glutton for punishment and if someone has to keep me from taking that last step off the edge, then it might as well be someone who deserves my shittiness.
It also helps that he’s so wrapped up in his own game of winning me back that he doesn’t even notice when I lash out or treat him like dirt.
As he drones on about how he’s trying to save himself for me, my mind drifts to Stone.
I’ve grown used to him always being here, right beside me to break me out of my drowning moods or to remind me not to let my darkness take control.
I miss the way his fingers would graze my stomach as hope sparks little flames of desire in his eyes. How sure he was of me. That I was his future, his everything.
And now, I’m just the asshole that threw him away.
A hand curls around my upper thigh forcing my gaze to snap from my dinner to Hunter’s face.
“What do you say?”
“To what?” I snarl, shoving his grip off me.
“Us. Another shot.”
Rolling my eyes, I climb off my stool and bring my plate to the sink.
“Not a chance in hell.”
I can hear his scoff and without even looking, I can imagine the disgust written in his stance. Brows pinched, lips pursed, arms crossed over his chest.
When I spin around, I find him just like that.
“If you’re waiting for that douchebag to show back up, then you’ll be waiting forever. You haven’t seen him in a month. Your mom died, Vanna and he just up and leaves you, but I’m here. I’m picking up the pieces once again. So why the fuck not? I think I’ve earned it.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose I groan, “Are you serious?”
The pout on his reddening face tells me all I need to know.
“Okay, let me make this so clear. You didn’t earn shit.
Just because you showed up and talked to me about all the bitches trying to fuck you doesn’t give you the right to date me.
That’s insane.” I seethe, my hands flying in the air.
“And even if I never see Stone again, I will never, ever get back together with you. Ever. We are done. Get that through your head.”
He’s silent for a brief moment, probably processing that this is it for him. That there’s no purpose in coming back because I’m not an option anymore.
“Bitches, huh?” He says with a smug grin.
“Get the fuck out!” I growl.
When he doesn’t move fast enough, I rush him. My hands shove at his chest until he’s stumbling toward my door.
“Jesus, Van!” He barks, hopping on one foot as he yanks his shoe on.
Before I can shut the door in his face, he warns, “You’re going to miss me.”
“I won’t.”
Mid-morning on Saturday, I find myself planted on a leather couch inside a small, cozy office. With the window shades shut, the room is only lit with the soft glow of a nearby lamp. I take deep breaths to calm my nerves, and each inhale is fused with the scent of lavender.
Sitting across from me is a woman in a chair, her skin matching the brown leather of the sofa. She offers a gentle smile and nods her head in greeting, her dark hair brushing her shoulders.
“Vanna, I’m really glad you reached out. I understand you’re struggling with some things and could use some help.”
I nod, staring at her name plate sitting on her desk behind her, Dr. Kia Anderson.
She only looks a decade older than me, and I wonder how someone like her has it together enough to fix someone like me.
“What was the final straw that brought you here?” She begins, her light brown eyes assessing my every move.
“I fucked up.” I admit.
“How so?”
Her brows furrow, but she nods, encouraging me to continue.
“I guess I should amend my statement. I’m fucked up.” I chuckle softly.
Dr. Anderson grimaces, then tucks her hair behind her ears.
“Vanna, you’re looking at me like I might judge you for the things that you’ve done or how you feel about them, but that’s not my job.
My job is to listen to your story and guide you through the emotions that may seem all consuming at times.
To help you cope with the trauma that’s plagued you enough to seek help. ”
“I know.” I tell her.
I’ve been through therapy before. Plenty of times, it was a requirement of being in the system, but not all therapists help, and trusting doesn’t come easy.
“I broke off my engagement and my relationship with my best friend because I couldn’t grasp what I felt inside when my mom died. Don’t get me wrong, I hated her. I’m not sad she’s dead, but I just felt... confused, I guess? Overwhelmed. Guilty that I was relieved?”
I bring my gaze up to meet hers and her face isn’t twisted in disapproval, so I continue.
“Anyway, I realize I tend to push people away because I’m a mess and this time it’s cost me more than I’d like to admit.”
“Kids who grow up with no one to rely on often feel most comfortable with themselves, but it gets lonely. Doesn’t it, Vanna?”
“Yeah.”
For the first time in my entire life, I share pieces of me I've never shared before. I summon the demons lurking deep in the darkest corners of my memories and stare them dead in their face.
I lay out every ugly part of my past. Described how it felt to be touched for the first time at eight years old.
How it felt to be betrayed by my own mother when she caught her boyfriends’ hitting on me.
The late nights watching her in case she overdosed and never woke up again.
The struggle I have believing I’m worth the trouble.
It doesn’t surprise me when our time is up that I’ve already scheduled weekly sessions for the next millennia and feel worse than I have in a long time.
But the ache I feel for my younger self is starting to scab over and a part of me believes that this time, my wounds might heal.
As I settle into my seat on the subway to head back home, I consider the first step Dr. Anderson recommended.
Taking my cell out, I text Daphne.
I’m not entirely surprised when she doesn’t respond, so when the train stops closest to her place, I decide to go there instead.
I walk the few blocks to her condo, folding my arms over myself as the light breeze tickles my skin. The evenings are growing colder now, and the sun sets earlier with Autumn teasing its way in.
When I knock on the door, I stand there for a few seconds until it opens. Jace’s eyes widen when he sees it’s me and then he grimaces.
“Hey.” I shrug.
He rubs the growing scruff on his chin, surely contemplating if he should hate me or not.
“Hey.”
“Is Daphne here?”
“Oh. Uh, yeah. Hang on.”
He opens the door wider and allows me inside.
“Why’d you look so shocked just now?”
Flustered and clearly uncomfortable, he fidgets with his braids, tying them back and then shoving his hands in his pocket.
“I kind of thought you were here for Stone.”
“Oh.” I say.
I should have known he’d be staying here, but I don’t know if I’m quite ready to see him yet. There’s a certain type of apology that I owe him and getting a handle on my emotions might be a good idea before that happens.
“No. Just Daph.”
He nods, pinching his lips, then disappears down the hall to grab her. When she emerges, her blond hair is in a messy bun and her make up is smeared. I can’t tell if she’s been crying, but she doesn’t look her usual peppy self.
“Vanna?”
“I’m so sorry.” I blurt, yanking her into me.
She deflates in my arms, nuzzling her head in the crook of my neck.
“I missed you.” She whispers.
“I missed you too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I know you were only trying to help.”
She holds me steady as she searches my face. “You’re dealing with a lot, but Vanna, I’m always here for you. You just have to let me in.”
“I know.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Daph.” I kiss the top of her forehead and ask, “Were you crying?”
“No, napping. This baby is sucking the life out of me.” Inhaling a heavy breath, she pulls me over to the living room and we settle onto the couch. “It’s a boy, by the way.”
“Holy shit!” I chuckle through a clog in the back of my throat. “A boy, huh? I thought you were going to wait to find out.”
She shrugs, “Jace was losing his mind not knowing, so we decided to do a small reveal. I wanted to invite you, but after everything, I wasn’t sure you would want to come.”
My lips curl into a frown as my heart sinks low into my stomach. “I would’ve come.”
“I’m sorry. Well, I refuse to let you miss the baby shower.” She flicks a tear from her lower lash, then inhales a fresh breath before changing the subject. “Stone will be so happy to see you.”
When my eyes widen, she snaps her mouth shut.
“Oh.” My mouth curls into a frown. “He’s here now?”
“No, he’s grabbing booze for tonight’s party.”
“A party?”
“Yeah, Jace is trying to get Stone out of his funk.” She eyes me and slowly catches onto my growing panic. “The guys can blow off some steam, and we can go to your place if you want. Watch a movie or something.”
The thought of Stone blowing off steam without me forms a rock in my gut. It’s an odd sensation because I’ve never felt this way before.
“Or we can stay?” I suggest.
“Would you be up for that?”
She eyes me wearily, both of us knowing it’s a terrible idea, but therapy doesn’t cure you overnight. So, I tell her yes.