12. Chapter 11
Trick – Three Days Later
I bounce my knee as I lean back on the couch, gently biting my thumbnail and eyeing my wife, who is looking around Dr. Gallow’s office with a furrowed brow.
Three days and she hasn’t been back to her apartment, she’s been at home with our daughter. Three days since I paid off her lease without her knowing and ensured the fucker who owned the apartment building won’t lease for her again.
She didn’t have any furniture or even her clothes, just the bag that was in her car because she didn’t have enough time from when she received the ultrasound to moving out to even do anything, only a few mattresses on the floor thankfully, and I know she’ll be pissed, but I won’t lose her.
I refuse.
I’ve known Clark all my life, and I’ve loved her for three-quarters of it. Even though I was blinded to the way my body reacted to her, to how I didn’t put up a fight to marry her when she said she was pregnant, I won’t be blind now.
“How long have you been coming here?” Clark asks quietly without looking my way, and I relax slightly, hearing her voice.
Though tension still lingers, knowing I have to open a can of secrets to get her to understand my fear of relationships, the reason why I instantly pushed her away but refused to let her go.
For three days, she’s said nothing to me. She’s spent that time reflecting, even carefully rereading the ultrasound, noticing the name at the top of the image now that her mind isn’t clouded by hurt and has been looking at everything differently.
I’ve been holding her at night like I did the two days before she tried leaving me. I’ve been making breakfast and taking Willow to school before doing my residency, but she’s kept a wall up, and I know it’s because of the anticipation of today.
“I started just after our fifth wedding anniversary,” I admit just as quietly.
“Why?” she questions as her dark green eyes lock with mine, and instantly, I’m locked in, I’m entranced.
“Because I realized I couldn’t ignore the love I had for you anymore,” I confess, and her mouth parts in shock just as the door opens.
“Sorry about the wait,” Dr. Gallow says, and I give him a nod, breaking eye contact with Clark just as he says, “Ah, you must be Clark White?”
She gives him a timid nod, not correcting the last name thank fuck. He smiles gently before he looks my way with a brow raised, wanting to know my plan.
I didn’t tell him I was bringing her, I didn’t really have time, Lavender ensured that shit, the same Lavender who is currently unaware that she’s being watched.
Bitch will be out of the club but whether it’s because she was voted out or because I killed her, well that’s down to the brothers.
Sighing, I state, "A club bunny who always wanted me, but I never touched, claimed she was my mistress for six years and showed up at my wife’s place of work with an ultrasound just over a week ago."
“Ah,” he says with a nod, then confirms, “So your time frame has been brought forward?”
I swallow but nod just as Clark asks, “What time frame?”
Dr. Gallow raises a bushy black brow at me, and I clear the lump forming, and I turn to her and say, “The time frame to finally be man enough for you.”
Clark's mouth opens with a gasp, and I give her a sad smile before I turn to the therapist and admit, “I let out in anger that I feel like I raped her, and she admitted that she feels like she assaulted me.”
He nods in understanding and replies, "It’s a perfectly natural human reaction to have.
While there are feelings involved–" he looks at Clark before she can deny it, "You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t.
" He looks between us. "Your drink was spiked. Trick, as you’ve mentioned in previous sessions, you and Clark have always had this attraction and gravitated toward each other.
" He looks at Clark again and confirms, "Correct? "
She whispers, “Correct,” without hesitating, and my stomach tightens as my heart pounds at her truth.
“Very good,” Dr. Gallow says, then continues, “When the drugs began to do what they intended, you both went for each other because of your attraction. It is well known that when someone is drugged, they normally pull away from their attacker, whereas you two, because the attacker wasn’t there for the aftermath, gravitated towards each other.
Your hearts wanted each other, and while yes, you may feel like you physically assaulted each other, you didn’t.
You just went to the one person you both wanted. ”
I nod because I’ve already heard this from him. It’s something he has been working on with me, and I look at Clark on the opposite side of the couch, her brows furrowed.
"I have flashbacks sometimes,” she admits quietly and I suck in a breath, waiting for her to admit she begged me to stop— something I know didn’t happen, but my mind has conjured up.
Instead, though, she says, "In those flashbacks, I feel nothing but love and passion, want and need. I feel at home, but I only feel what I feel. I can’t remember what he felt. ”
“And that is your mind trying to make you think you assaulted him, but you didn’t,” Dr. Gallow says, and I quickly interject, “I felt love,” trying to help her understand she never assaulted me, that deep down, I wanted it and Clark looks at me sharply.
I smile slightly, move across the couch, and reach for her hand, holding it tight.
"I felt love, passion, a sense of home. I felt like I’d die if I didn’t have you for the rest of my life.
When I woke up with you in my bed, at first—fuck, petrified, I felt petrified," I whisper and her eyes tear up, “I thought I took advantage of you. Then I realized we were both drugged, and I shut down instantly. I didn’t think about your feelings or mine. I went into shock and damage control because I felt like I raped you. Then you kept your distance for five weeks and I thought, fuck, it must be true. After you confessed to being pregnant, everything just darkened in my mind because I knew I’d always have that reminder that I raped you even though that reminder is my absolute fucking world. ”
“But you didn’t,” she chokes as she squeezes my hand, and I nod slightly.
“I’m slowly beginning to see that, buttercup, but before I didn’t, it’s why two days after our marriage, I tried sleeping with someone else,” I confess, and some tears fall down her beautiful cheeks.
I wipe them away, and I admit, “As soon as she put her lips on me before I even shut the door, I felt disgusted, and reality hit me like a ton of fucking bricks. I realized I was in love with you and had been for years. The pranks – the snake – I wanted your reactions. I wanted you, and it fucked with my head because of how I felt after that night…”
“I’m your best friend's sister,” she chokes, and I shake my head.
“No, you were my friend that I fell in love with and tried to push away,” I reply.
“Clark, what did you think of Trick growing up?” Dr. Gallow asks, and my wife snorts while I grin.
She looks his way and admits, "A pest." I chuckle. "He’d play these little pranks on me. Fake spiders in my food, electric shock pens, changing my shampoo color to hair dye, and yanking on my hair when we were young. Then there was the fake snake in my car that I had spent ages saving up for. I ended up crashing thinking the toy was real, and he had to force me back behind the wheel when everyone else failed to do so and drive with me for hours, making sure I wasn’t scared anymore.”
“So, you had a sisterly affection for him growing up?” Dr. Gallow tries, and I bite back a smirk, knowing exactly what he’s getting at.
Devious man…
My girl takes the bite and instantly denies, “No, not at all, I was always drawn towards him but thought it was because he was a brother of the club, that I grew up with him. I mean, I was attracted to him, but I never had thought of doing anything about that attraction. The pranks, as much as they drove me insane, I looked forward to them because in my mind, he was thinking about me, and growing up, I saw him as my hero, my protector.”
She swallows before she admits, “My friends and I played a game once,” she looks at the therapist, “If you had to marry any brother, who would it be? Obviously, one of my friends chose my blood brother, and the other just shook her head, but me, well, I chose,” she looks at me, “him.”
Fuck, that is one hell of an admission that makes my heart race.
She blinks, then looks back at Dr. Gallow and says, “But again, I didn’t see us being together because I thought he was out of my league.”
I stare at this woman, shaking my head in disbelief. How could she ever think she’s out of my league?
She fucking owns me.
“Trick, over the past year, we’ve gotten to the root of your commitment and communication errors where Clark is concerned. I know she wouldn’t be here right now if you weren’t ready to let her in, so why don’t you explain?”
Fuck, here we go.
I take a deep breath as I turn back to my wife and I grab hold of her hand, allowing the tingles and warmth to flow through me, and without looking at her, I say, “I was seven when it happened…”
I blink and startle awake as my door opens before I lock my blurry eyes on my mama, and I grin and realize why she’s in here.
“I’m seven today, Mama!” I say excitedly despite the sleep lacing my voice, and she sniffles confusing me.
“I know, sweet boy, and today you get to go to heaven with me,” she says as she walks over to me with two glasses of milk, and I frown.
“But heaven means I’ll be dead, Mama, I don’t want to be dead.” I say, frowning as I sit up, not understanding what is wrong with her.
"I know, sweet boy," she whispers, sitting on my bed. "But Daddy was naughty. He had an affair, and this is his penance for breaking my heart—losing his wife and his legacy." She drinks half of her drink and mutters, "Crap, I need you to drink all of yours first…"
My eyes widen in shock, and I go to move away from her as she grabs the other glass, but she clamps down on my wrist before dragging me to her.
“Mama no!” I cry out, but she scolds, “Stay still, sweet boy, be good!” before she shoves the glass to my mouth and pours.
I cough and splutter, trying to move my head away, milk instantly drenching me, but she’s determined. I end up drinking some without meaning to when I cry out.
She moves the glass away from me, and I cough and try to catch my breath as she mutters, “Dammit, you spilled half of it, you’ll have to have mine, and I’ll make some more,” before suddenly her hand clamps on my wet arm and she’s forces more milk down my throat.
“Mama, stop!” I gurgle and cough as I try to push her away but everything goes blurry, my body weakening before I hear, “What the fuck are you doing, Patricia?!” before Mama is dragged away from me, kicking and screaming, “No, no, you have to be punished, we have to die!”
“It was only as I got older, using my skills with technology, that I found the footage from back then, and I saw that a club bunny had thrown herself at dad, who didn’t see it coming.
As her lips touched his, Mom walked in at the wrong moment and put two and two together and made twenty.
She didn’t confront him and nearly killed herself and me out of revenge for something that he didn’t even do,” I murmur, the past flashing before me, the doctors all rallying around me to get my stomach pumped while she continued to scream we needed to die.
“Mom spent six months in the psychiatric ward after she had a breakdown when Dad told her he’s never even looked at another woman before.
I was in the ICU, and when she returned, they were instantly loved up while I had to try and still live with what she did to me like it didn’t happen because Dad didn’t and still doesn’t want her to relapse.
It’s also the reason why I never pushed for my mother to have our daughter when you refused,” I murmur.
Clark squeezes my hand tightly, and I blink and lock eyes with my wife’s, beautiful dark green ones, tears streaming down her face, and I swallow hard as I cup her cheek.
She grips my wrist tightly as a sob leaves her.
I pull her into my arms and hold her tightly while she cries for the little boy who lost his spark all because his mom couldn’t deal with the fact that she thought his dad cheated, and I fucking pray that she fights for me, for us, just like I’m learning to fight for her.