Chapter 29 #2
Jennifer's face flashed through my mind. The conference room at Elion. I thought you trusted me more than this.
"My friend Jennifer confronted me a few weeks ago. About the audit. The Davidson situation. She knew the official story was bullshit." I shook my head. "She looked me dead in the eye and asked for the truth."
Damien froze. "She knows the numbers?"
"Of course she knows the numbers."
"Fuck," he said under his breath. "I didn't even consider that."
My face went flat, heel tapping twice against the carpet. "No. You didn't."
"This is a good example of why transparency is so important," Dr. Raines said.
Damien leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees. Head falling into his hands. Fingers pulling at his hair.
"What did you tell her?" Dr. Raines asked me.
"That I didn't know." I paused. "And at the time, I meant it. I genuinely didn't know what had happened. I just knew—" I glanced at Damien. "I knew he'd done something. I could feel it. But I didn't have the details. Didn't have proof. Just... instinct."
"So you weren't lying," Dr. Raines said.
"I mean—I guess not."
Damien lifted his head. "I'm sorry."
"Stop apologizing," I snapped.
Dr. Raines's eyes widened for a heartbeat. "That touched a nerve, didn't it, Emma?"
"I'm so sick of him apologizing," I admitted.
She tilted her head. "And why is that?"
"Because words are useless."
"Ah," she said, nodding. "So actions mean more than words to you."
"Of course they do."
The corner of her lips twitched, as she leveled her gaze on Damien. "Do you hear her?"
He nodded, face pale. "I'll do better."
Dr. Raines let the silence settle before speaking again. "Speaking of actions, let's get back to Jennifer. Damien's told you everything. And you still haven't told her?"
"No." My fingers tangled in my lap. "I haven't."
"That's what's eating at me," I continued. "Back then, I had an excuse. I was in the dark too. But now I have the answers she asked for—the answers I promised her—and I'm just... sitting on them. Letting her wait. Breaking my word one day at a time."
"How does that feel?" Dr. Raines asked.
"Dirty," I said.
Damien shifted beside me. A quick glance told a story of guilt—sweat beading on his brow.
I turned my attention back to Dr. Raines, who was nodding slowly. "What do you think honesty would cost you?"
I pictured the conference room again. Jennifer's bottom lip quivering. The hurt etched across her face when she whispered No. You don't.
"Her faith in me," I said. "If I tell her the truth—that Damien manipulated the numbers to protect Elion, to protect me—she might see it as a betrayal.
Of her trust. Of everything we built." I swallowed.
"Or she might understand. I don't know. That's the problem.
I don't know which version of Jennifer I'd be facing. "
Dr. Raines smiled. "Sounds familiar."
"It isn't the same. I'm not in a relationship with Jennifer. She has no obligation to hold this secret, has no stakes in it. She could bring the information to the police."
"But you said she has the numbers already."
"Yes," I admitted softly. "She does."
Dr. Raines shifted in her chair, tucking the other leg underneath her.
"Silence sits in the certain column," Dr. Raines said. "Honesty sits in the unknown."
Damien let out a long breath.
"Here's my recommendation," she said. "Tell Jennifer. Not because you owe her every detail right now. But because you made a promise. And every day you don't keep it, you're telling her—and yourself—that your word doesn't mean what you said it did."
The words landed like a slap. A gentle one, but still.
"Aligning your words with your actions will support her trust."
Damien shifted. "This is my mess. I made the call on the audit. I should be the one to tell her."
"No." I shook my head. "I made the promise. It has to come from me."
"I still would like to talk to her. To own what I did."
Dr. Raines watched us, something like approval in her expression.
"I stand by my recommendation," she said. "Talk to Jennifer. Keep the promise you made. Bring your external story in line with your internal one."
I nodded slowly. "Okay."
"Good." Her tone shifted. "There's one more thread here. You mentioned a name earlier, Damien. Nathan."
Damien swallowed. "The audit information—he's called out the discrepancies."
"Tell me more," Dr. Raines said.
"He's been hovering. Watching Emma. He touched her hands." The words came quick, his face turning red. "He's been like this for years, and I can't get rid of him. He's a pig. Every time I see him I want to put him through a wall."
Dr. Raines tilted her head. "Put him through a wall," she repeated, her tone neutral but precise. "That's aggressive language, Damien. Can you tell me more about that impulse?"
The temperature in the room shifted.
"It's just an expression," he said. Too quickly. Too flat.
"Is it?"
Silence stretched. Damien's jaw worked once. Twice. His gaze dropped to the rug.
"I'm not—" He stopped. Started again. "I don't want to talk about that."
Dr. Raines gave him a small smile.
"That's okay," she said gently. "Not everything has to be unpacked in one session. We've covered a lot of ground today. Some doors can stay closed until you're ready to open them."
"Thank you," he said, voice tight.
I studied his profile—the tension bracketing his mouth, the way his shoulders had climbed back toward his ears.
We'd just spent an hour cracking ourselves open. But this—whatever this was—he couldn't touch.
"It's okay," I said, squeezing his hand.
The clock on Dr. Raines's wall ticked softly. Outside, muffled traffic hummed past.
She watched us with that quiet, knowing gaze.
"Let's table that thread for now," she said. "But Damien—when you're ready, I'd like to explore it. Anger that intense usually has roots. Understanding them can help you manage the branches."
He nodded, not quite meeting her eyes. "Okay."
Dr. Raines glanced at the clock. "We're almost out of time. What are your next steps?"
"We talk to Jennifer," I said. "I keep my promise. Tell her what happened with the audit."
"And I own my part," Damien said. "I won't hide behind Emma."
He turned to me. "And I won't keep information from you again. I can still take the brunt without leaving you in the dark."
"Good." She smiled, untangling her feet from beneath her.
"One last thing," Dr. Raines said as we rose. "You're not going to leave here perfect communicators. You'll make mistakes. You'll get scared and fall back into old patterns. The work isn't about never slipping. It's about seeing when you have, naming it, and choosing differently—sooner each time."
She looked between us.
"For a first session, you both did something remarkable. You showed up. You told the truth. That's how relationships like yours survive."
"Thank you," I said.
Damien echoed it beside me.
He reached for my hand, our fingers lacing together.
And we walked out of the office palm to palm, the city night waiting beyond the glass doors.