Chapter 34
Nadia
“Hi.” Kayla, the therapist, looked up as I walked in the door, her eyes dropping to the device clipped to my belt. “So you’ve decided to try transitioning? Congratulations.”
“Seems like a weird thing to say to someone who’s waiting for every muscle and sinew to rearrange itself as their bones change shape.” My hand clapped over my mouth and I blinked. “Sorry,” I said, removing it seconds later. “That sounded really bitchy.”
“Bitchy is OK,” she said with a shrug. “You’re allowed to feel how you feel. Angry, sad, and anything else in between.” Her elbows hit the desk as she leaned forward. “You’re going through something tough and this is a safe space for that.”
“Mandatory safe space.” With a shake of my head, I swallowed down another apology, then smiled wryly. “The fact I have to be here kinda negates the safe part.”
“Ahh…” She leaned back in her chair. “Is that the sticking point? We can sit here, not say a word for our sessions, not if you don’t want to. The legal team wants to rule out any risk of self-harm.” Her smile faded. “That’s not something you’ve ever thought about?”
“Nope.”
I bit that word off, then felt my jaw snap shut.
“Well, that’s good.” She paused, watching me with a slight smile, then when I didn’t have anything else to say, turned back to her computer.
“Obviously if you’re having thoughts of self-harm, please reach out to any of the staff here.
It doesn’t have to be me. Everyone here is trained to help during a crisis. ”
And at that, Kayla’s focus shifted to her work.
The sound of her mouse moving, then clicking, was the only thing to disturb the increasingly oppressive silence.
The woman was giving me what I wanted, I told myself.
Didn’t stop my hands from gripping the arms of the new chair tightly.
Say something, some hard wired instinct screamed inside me. Anything!
“So you don’t want to ask me about my relationship with my parents or anything?” My smile was so fake my lips twitched as they curved. “Discuss some deeply repressed trauma?”
“Is that something you want to talk about?”
Why did I feel a rush of relief the minute Kayla turned back to me? I knew exactly why. This was stupid. I was almost sulking at the idea of being forced in here and now I was bringing this up again? I could almost hear my mother’s voice inside my head, telling me to stop making such a fuss.
“Not really.” I shook my head. “I mean, there wasn’t anything especially traumatic about growing up in my family. No one hit me, yelled at me, abused me.”
“Well, that’s good to hear.”
I knew what she was doing. Psychologists seemed to cultivate a bland facade for you to project your crap onto.
My first session with my current therapist was super awkward because I assumed she’d draw me out, tell me what to do and how.
Instead, she asked me a few questions about my background and I’d answered them dutifully, telling her what I thought she wanted to hear.
It took a ridiculous amount of sessions to get to the point where I started talking about how I actually felt.
Which had me taking a shuddering breath now.
“But I struggle with silence.” Kayla’s expression softened.
“Sitting here for an hour without saying a word?” That same feeling that rose the moment the device was placed made a return appearance.
Of my skin feeling too tight, my muscles quivering, ready, but for what?
“Tell me about your day, what you’re thinking of having for lunch, anything other just quiet. ”
“And why is that?”
She said that in a far gentler tone and for just a second, my eyes closed. I didn’t want to go through this all over again. The old me would’ve suffered in silence, but the only way I could make change was to consistently, in small ways, keep doing the opposite thing my instincts told me to do.
“Do I have to talk about this again?” I said in a rough voice. “If you could just talk…”
With a sigh, I sat straighter in my chair and opened my eyes. Something in them had Kayla’s gaze sharpening, but I nodded and forged on.
“No one hurt me or anyone else in our home. No one raised their voices or swore at us or hit us or sexually abused us.” This was the litany I told myself over and over as a young adult, rationalising why I had no grounds to complain.
“My dad was…” I could see him then, clearly in my mind.
That hard stare, the muscles around his mouth tightening as he looked down at the dinner table.
My hand would stray sideways, correcting the angle of the fork closest to us slightly.
“A very particular man. He liked things a certain way.”
Bloody hell, I could almost hear Mum’s voice inside my head as I used her words to describe Dad.
“And what happened if things at home didn’t meet his standard?” Kayla asked.
“Nothing.” My smile was reflexive. “He said very little about it, and that’s how you knew.
” My butt shifted in the seat, but suddenly nowhere was comfortable.
Thighs quivering, I wanted to get up, to pace.
Instead, I stayed right where I was, feeling something inside me move back and forth.
“No smiles, no greetings, no how was your day, just… silence.” Flapping a hand negligently, I continued.
“It’s why I don’t cope very well with lulls in conversations now.
The quiet feels… oppressive somehow, y’know?
” She nodded and yet I didn’t feel like she really understood it.
“Like there’s a weight to it and it presses down on you, harder and harder by the second. You can’t breathe, can’t…”
My hands shot out and I watched them begin to change in real time. White hair appeared all over the backs of them, then my nails lengthened, transforming into claws. It was only the shake of my arms that let me know how I was feeling about that.
“You’re OK.” Kayla’s voice was soothing and intent at the same time. “Everything’s OK. If you think you’re going to shift, I’ll press on the button on the wall and someone from the team will be here in seconds.”
“No,” I said and at that word, the fur shrank back and my chipped nail polish reappeared so fast, it was like a blur. “I’m fine.”
Those two words had my guts twisting because I said them, Mum said them, all the damn time growing up. Whatever the hell was moving inside me pushed back for just a moment, a sharp twinge in my side there and gone again.
“Or I’m not really.” That had me smiling again.
“But hopefully I will be. Mum and Dad, they had a dysfunctional relationship. Still do. Seeing them still orbit each other, spending their lives together, but never really connecting.” I met Kayla’s gaze head on.
“That’s what got me seeing my therapist. Sometimes I stay quiet about things I really shouldn’t.
” It wasn’t hard to see Grant, all of my exes, in my head, which only had that restless feeling increasing.
“And other times I speak up way too much about things that don’t matter. ”
“But they mattered at the time,” she said. “And everyone struggles with communication. Overreacting.” That word stung. “Underreacting. We’re all human, struggling to deal with the weight of our own responses and those around us, so we’re never going to get it right all the time.”
“Of course.” My response was glib, and that had my cheeks flushing.
“I mean I know intellectually that’s the case, but it’s different in reality.
It feels like I’m doomed to either suffer in silence or hit some poor unsuspecting barista with a litany of all my woes when they just want to know what kind of coffee I want.
” For just a second, I sat with that feeling, but my eyes found the clock on the wall moments later.
“But I think we’re out of time for today. ”
“That’s usually my line,” Kayla said with a smile.
“Look, I’ve been instructed to touch base with you every couple of days in the first week, just to make sure everything’s OK.
If it’d help, I can bring some things in to discuss.
” She watched me stiffen. “Nothing to do with parents or oversharing or anything. If it’s useful, we can talk more about it.
If it’s not, then at least it won’t be sitting here in silence. ”
“Right, OK, sure, that sounds fine,” I said, but when I got to my feet, my thigh muscles flexed, throwing me off my balance, forcing me to recover quickly. “See you then.”
What would she bring to the session? I thought as I walked back to the suite.
We’d had one conversation… no, more like half of one and she was already thinking there was something to discuss?
Was it so apparent there was something wrong with me that she clocked it within minutes?
I didn’t have any answers, not when I reached the suite, nor when I walked in through the door.
“Hey.” Tex was up and over the back of the couch and striding towards me.
Grey looked up from where he was making coffee, setting the kettle down before moving my way as well.
Them, I expected to see, but Ethan? He looked back at me from where he was sitting on the couch.
“How’re you feeling?” Tex’s hands skimmed my face, my shoulders, my arms. “Not like you’re going to shift? ”
“Nope.” I gave his hands a squeeze, then stepped backwards.
“You’re crowding Nadia.”
Grey stood off to one side, arms crossed as he inspected me closely. It felt like those cool eyes saw right down into the depths of my soul.
“I’m not crowding her. Nadia, I’m not, am I?”
Looking up and seeing Tex’s befuddled expression had me smiling.
“A little.” His face fell. “But it’s not so much what you’re doing as…” I could either stay silent, just like Mum and Dad, or I could use my words like a big girl. “I’m not used to this much attention from anyone, let alone two guys.”
“Three guys,” Tex said, steering me towards the lounge suite.
“Yeah, but Ethan’s just a friend.” I flopped down on the couch beside the alpha in question. “What’re you watching?”
“Um… the replay of the footy,” Ethan said, looking over at me.
“Footy?” I made a show of gagging. “That’s so boring. How do you feel about ice hockey?”
“Oh no…” Tex groaned.
“Never really watched it,” Ethan replied.
I couldn’t help but grin.
“Well, let me introduce you to the awesomeness of sports romance. Much more interesting.” I plucked the remote from his grip. “Sex scenes, full-frontal nudity.”
“What she’s not saying is it’s blokes with their dicks out, not women,” Tex added.
“Shh…” Flicking through the channels, I found the series I’d started yesterday. “Whaddya say, buddy? Can we watch this instead? Tex can catch you up on the storyline.”
Ethan smiled slowly and for some reason that had something tightening in my chest. He turned towards me, arm going along the back of the couch, close enough to touch me if he wanted to.
He didn’t.
“Whatever the omega wants,” he said.
“Good answer.” Turning back to face the TV was a relief of sorts. The hot guys were contained to the screen, forever untouchable. “Shit, we need snacks!”
“I’ll get the snacks.”
Grey almost smiled, then went and started rummaging through the fridge before depositing a smorgasbord of delights onto the coffee table. Grabbing a share bag of chocolate, I opened it and snagged a few myself before offering them to the others.
“So who’re these guys?” Ethan asked as I cued up the right episode.
“They’re some American hockey team at a university, I think?” Tex said.
As he summarised the previous episodes, his arm went around me and that weight was welcome.
I snuggled in closer because as soon as we were touching, all tension leached away.
My feet propped up on the coffee table, my favourite show playing, and chocolate to eat.
It felt like this was the pitstop I needed on the journey to meeting my wolf.
Then my hand found Tex’s thigh.
His voice trailed away, his eyes finding mine, and for just a moment, it looked like he felt it too.
That feeling of wonder that this alpha was one of two guys fate decided to make mine.
Rubbing small circles at the hem of his shorts, I grinned as his eyes dropped down to follow the path of my fingers.
“Keep going,” I prompted. “Everybody needs to be familiar with the plot because there will be no further questions once I hit play.”
“Bunch of hockey players that like the girl with the nice tits,” he said in a great rush. “But for some reason they can’t just come out and say they like her. The end.”
“It’d be a really short show if they did,” I said, settling back against the cushions.
“And the female lead might be overwhelmed by some sudden declaration of love.”
Grey sat down on the chair facing ours, not even pretending to watch the show.
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Let’s find out.”