Not Broken: The Happily Ever After

By Meka James

She survived a hell most people couldn’t fathom…

Two years later, Calida Jokobi has constructed her life with two goals in mind: to keep the remaining pieces of her heart safe and her deepest secrets buried. However, pretending you’re fine only works if no one challenges the lie.

One man puts it all at risk.

Malcolm has been her friend. Her first crush. And her first kiss. Now he wants to be the man to prove that past decisions don’t make her unworthy of love.

The closer he gets, the more her façade begins to crumble, leaving the truths she’s worked to hide vulnerable to exposure. With the life and happiness she’s dreamed of in reach, can Calida let down her defenses and trust not only Malcolm, but also herself?

**The story is about recovery from an abusive relationship and does contain mentions on past events that could be sensitive for some readers.**

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bryant Street Publishing
• Release date: Feb 28, 2023
• ISBN: 9781094453613

Meka James

Meka James is a writer of adult contemporary and erotic romance. A born and raised Georgia Peach, she still resides in the southern state with her hubby of 20-plus years. Mom to four kids, she also has four fur-babies of the canine variety. Leo the turtle and Spade the snake round out her wacky household. When not writing or reading, Meka can be found playing The Sims and making up fun stories to go with the pixel people whose world she controls.

Book preview

1

MALCOLM

Calida’s red Mercedes SUV turned the corner. Beads of sweat trickled down my back, and I rolled my shoulders hoping to release some of the tension. I knew in my heart of hearts this was a good plan, but at the same time, things could go horribly wrong. What if she wasn’t ready? What if she didn’t feel the same way? The years of playful jokes and flirtatious banter could have all been meaningless to her.

I let out a breath and pushed the doubt from my mind. "Gentle pushing…but proceed with caution." Dr. Carr’s words repeated in my head. I could do this. It was time for me to man up, to do what I should have done years ago. If I had, all her pain and suffering could have been avoided.

I wiped my sweaty palms on my pants. Hell, I’d never been this nervous around any woman, but she wasn’t just any woman. She was the woman. The one that made me want no one else.

Shawn’s happy babbling drew my attention. He played in the front yard with his little toy cars, crashing them into each other. The older he got, the more he looked like that asshole with the black hair and blue eyes. He was a living, breathing reminder of the hell Calida and my sister Macy went through. At one time, I’d worried over my ability to love Shawn, but I did.

When I looked at him, I only saw Calida’s son, and I loved him like my own. I didn’t care who he looked like, nor did I give a fuck about the odd stares I’d get when I had him. His paler skin in contrast to my own darker tone made it obvious he wasn’t my biological child. It didn’t matter, he called me daddy; I was his father in every way that counted. Or at least I wanted to be.

Calida climbed out of her car and I stood from my position on the porch steps. My Ginger. A smile spread across my face thinking about the night of the Halloween party when I’d given her that nickname. It’d been playful teasing on my part, but the name became our thing. Something special between the two of us that had remained through the years.

My pulse raced. Everything was about to change. That seed of doubt returned. She could say no, reject me and everything I hoped for. I reached into my pocket, and my fingers closed around the ring. When I saw it, I knew the infinity design would be the perfect symbol of the promise I planned to make her.

I headed down the walkway to meet her; Ginger smiled as she came toward me. Her gaze went over to her son who sat happily playing, unaware of his mother’s presence.

I took in Ginger’s appearance. She’d never been one to flaunt herself, but now Macy teased her about the mom wear. The loose fitting, lime green polo shirt and khaki, knee-length shorts she wore today were a typical representation of her wardrobe. Light, neutral makeup rounded out her look, but she could go without any as far as I was concerned.

She’d cut her red hair, and now wore one of those short pixie styles, but that wasn’t the only change. From the moment she’d woken up in the hospital after the attack by the bastard, there’d been something off about her. At first I’d thought it was because of what she’d gone through, and what she’d had to do, but it had never gone away. Ginger’s outlook on life, her optimistic innocence, had disappeared. As much as she’d become more active in life, she still didn’t seem whole.

I wanted to be that missing piece.

She was here. So close. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her soft body. She smelled sweet, like cherry blossoms. When my lips connected with hers, Ginger stiffened. Dread replaced my nervous excitement. I’d acted too rashly. I almost let her go, but then her lips parted. I took the open invitation and slipped my tongue into her warm mouth. Her arms circled around my back, and mine tightened around her waist. The unease and worry melted away as I got lost in her.

Ginger’s body molded to mine like a perfect fit. She moaned, and her fingers dug in as she pulled herself closer. My mind wandered back to our one and only kiss shared years ago as teenagers. A stupid game of seven minutes in heaven that I’d rigged to keep my friends from taking advantage of her. I’d had no plans to kiss her when I took her into the bedroom, not until she’d asked. That kiss didn’t hold the same importance.

Kissing her now, in this moment, meant more. This kiss held emotion, it held promise, it held hope. This kiss was a new beginning…our beginning.

When I pulled away, her emerald eyes were wide with shock. Her hand went to her lips. I waited for her to say something, but she didn’t. Instead, she walked over, picked up Shawn, and headed toward her car.

I chased behind her. Where are you going?

Home.

My stomach twisted. What? Why? I reached for her arm.

Because, Malcolm, I’ve already told you…don’t do this, she snapped and yanked her arm free.

Well, too bad. I am doing this. I’m done waiting, Calida!

She poked her finger at my chest. I never asked you to wait. In fact, I’ve told you there was no hope here.

Well, I say that’s bullshit. It’s been two years, Calida. That bastard is dead and gone, yet you are still letting him control your life. That ends today!

Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again. She fumbled with her keys and dropped them on the ground. Her hand shook as she bent to pick them up. Shit! I was messing this up. Gentle pushing…but proceed with caution. I’d thrown caution out the damn window and jumped without a fucking parachute. And this certainly was not gentle pushing.

I’d thought things through, planned for this moment, and yet when faced with it, I managed to do nothing but stick my foot in my mouth big time. I was supposed to let her know how I felt. Finally express the love I’d kept quiet for years. Instead, I pissed her off and scared her in the process.

She hit the unlock button on her key ring and tugged the backdoor open. She was running from me, from what we could have. My worst fear was coming true. Shawn started crying when she sat him in his seat. His little arms reached out for me. He arched his back, fighting against her attempts to buckle him in, and she pleaded with him to stop crying.

He called me Da-Da again, and she corrected him again. I hated when she did that. I liked that he looked at me as a father figure. She kept one hand on his chest while the thumb and forefinger of her other hand pressed into her eyes. I stepped closer and took Shawn out of his car seat. He wrapped his little arms around my neck and pulled at my dreads while I negotiated his good behavior in return for a treat later.

This whole thing had gone down the drain fast. All the meetings I’d attended, all the books I’d read, all the preparation I’d done for this moment had flown right out the window. I let my frustrations take over. The more I talked, the more I seemed to fuck up. I needed to get things back on course. There’d been a point in my life where I’d thought I’d missed my chance, that I’d never be able to let Calida know my true feelings. But fate, or whatever, gave me another one, and I wasn’t going to let it slip through my fingers.

Do you like this place? I asked, changing the topic.

What? She closed the car door and gave Shawn a faint smile, brushing a few stray hairs out of his face.

This house…do you like it?

Yes, it’s cute, very homey looking. Craftsman style homes are my favorite. Why? Why are you here anyway?

I grinned. It was working. I know they are, so I wanted to get your opinion.

On what?

The house. Just come inside and tell me what you think. I held my hand out for her.

She voiced her objections, but after a little back and forth, she conceded and slipped her hand into mine. We’d talked before about me looking for a permanent place instead of continuing to pay rent. Everyone expected me to get a condo or something, but it’d be pointless. Well, it would be if things worked out.

Dr. Carr said you went to see her, she said, as we walked hand in hand toward the house.

I did.

Why?

Once we entered, she gravitated toward the fireplace in the formal living room. I’d viewed at least ten homes, but when my agent brought me here, I knew this was the one. I hadn’t signed the papers to make an offer yet, because I needed to make sure she loved it first.

A smile pulled at Ginger’s lips as she ran her hands over the wood-carved mantle. Her eyes went to the large picture window; it was the perfect location to place the Christmas tree. She had that dreamy, hopeful look on her face, a look I’d not seen much of lately, as it seemed to be reserved only for Shawn. She loved this place, I could feel it.

I wanted to talk to her, I replied, sitting Shawn down. I was very confused on how to go about doing something.

What were you confused on that you needed to go see my shrink? she asked, keeping her back to me.

I walked up behind Ginger and wrapped my arms around her. She tensed up from the contact. I was pushing my luck. I loved this woman, and I wanted her to know how much.

Let go, Malcolm, she whispered.

I don’t want to. Not now, not ever.

I reached into my pocket and fished out the ring. I slid the platinum and diamond infinity band on her delicate finger. She began to shake, and it pained me that she was scared. I pulled away and turned her to face me. She looked down to see what I’d placed on her and shook her head.

It’s not what you think, I stated quickly. You have been hurt in unimaginable ways, and I know you think you are damaged goods. You’ve told me that plenty of times, but I’m here to say you’re wrong. When I look at you, I don’t see broken…or damaged. I see a woman who is beautiful and strong. A woman that has suffered, but survived. And most importantly, I see a woman that needs to be cared for and loved unconditionally. You deserve that and so much more.

I reached for her hand and ran my thumb across the ring. This ring is a sign, a symbol, of my promise to you, my promise to never let you be hurt again. I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m just asking for a chance. A chance to show you how much you mean to me, a chance to be the man you deserve.

She tried to pull away from me, but I kept her close. I lifted her face so I could look into her beautiful green eyes. I could see fear in them, and it saddened me. She had to know I would never hurt her.

Calida, Ginger, my Ginger. I want to love you and cherish you in the manner you deserve. You just have to let me.

The front door opened, and she turned to see our families; Macy, my brother-n-law Mitch, and my baby niece London. Ginger’s parents, Sandy and Collin, along with mine, who’d driven down from North Carolina to be here for us. She needed to see that she was not alone, that we all loved her. That they all supported her—supported us.

I waited on bated breath for Ginger to respond. The seconds ticked by stretching out her silence and allowing time for my earlier fears to creep back in.

She turned to look at me. She closed her eyes and took a breath. Okay, she whispered.

My world stopped and my heart squeezed when I registered what she’d said. That one word made me the happiest man on Earth. My first instinct was to embrace her, but the memory of her trembling in my arms stopped me. As much as I wanted to hold her, and kiss her, I refrained.

So, let me see, Macy said to Ginger, handing London to Mitch. Mal wouldn’t let me see the ring beforehand. She grabbed her friend’s hand and frowned up at me.

It’s not an engagement. Ginger spoke quickly before Macy could go off on me about the lack of bling. The platinum band was topped with one carat worth of diamonds embedded within the symbol. It was simple, yet classic. Perfect for her.

Welcome to the family, son, Collin said, giving me a pat on the back.

Thank you, sweetie, for getting him to settle down, Mom said, pulling her into a hug.

Ginger nodded then walked over to her mom, took Shawn, and headed farther into the house. I stayed to talk with everyone and to decide where we should go for dinner. After a few minutes, I went to see where she’d gone. I found her standing on the back deck. Mature trees shaded the medium-sized yard, but it was big enough to give Shawn room to run around as he got older.

Did you see the rest of the house?

She jumped at the sound of my voice.

Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.

It’s fine. And, no, I haven’t seen the house. I needed some air, so I came out here.

Well, do you want a quick tour before we head to dinner?

Dinner?

Yes. The crew inside are all complaining of being hungry. We’re going to have dinner over at Front Page.

She nodded, but didn’t respond.

Unless you want to go somewhere else.

She kept her eyes on Shawn, who sat playing in the sandbox the previous owners had left behind. No, that’s fine. She walked down the steps to pick up Shawn. He fussed, showing his displeasure at being interrupted.

Okay, what about seeing the house?

I don’t need to see the house, Mal, she said, heading back inside.

I reached out to touch her arm. You don’t like it?

She shrugged. It’s fine. She moved Shawn from one hip to the other, putting him between us.

I don’t want it to be fine, Ginger. I want you to love it. It, or some place, will be my home. Our home.

Her brows scrunched into a V, and she pressed her lips together. I cussed inwardly at myself. I wanted her and Shawn to live with me in the future. That was the whole reason I looked at houses instead of a condo. However, I knew it was too much too soon, and I should have kept my damn mouth shut.

For reasons none of us understood, Ginger refused to leave the house she’d shared with that bastard. I thought getting away from all those bad memories would be something she’d want. A fresh start. But she’d shut down anytime the topic was brought up.

You’re right. Sorry. It’s been a busy day. Can you schedule a tour tomorrow or something? We don’t want to keep everyone waiting.

Her answer surprised me. She was open to the possibility. I reached for Shawn, and then I took her hand and brought it to my lips.

Yes, I’ll call my agent and set something up.

She nodded before pulling her hand free.

During dinner, our moms talked excitedly about the house, our possible wedding, and how life was finally moving in the right direction. Collin joked about needing to have the talk with me. The mood was festive, but when I’d look at Ginger, she seemed to be elsewhere.

Sandy turned to her daughter. Shawn can stay with us tonight, dear.

Ginger’s brows furrowed together for a moment. Her face turned red when she picked up on what her mom meant. She signaled for the waiter to refill her Chardonnay. Was that the third or fourth?

That won’t be necessary, but thanks, she replied before excusing herself and heading off in the direction of the restrooms.

Sandra moved over, taking Ginger’s recently vacated seat. We’ll take him home with us, just in case.

I laughed and shook my head. I don’t think that’s necessary.

She patted my arm and smiled. We look for any and all excuses to have him over.

Being their only grandchild, Sandra and Collin had a nursery set up for Shawn at their house, so he always had a second place to call home.

After dinner was finished and the bill was paid, Sandra and Collin gave Ginger and me hugs, said their goodbyes, and left with Shawn. Ginger frowned in my direction.

I put my hands up in defense. I told them no.

Everyone parted ways, leaving only us. I wanted to hold her hand as we walked, but I kept mine firmly placed inside my pockets.

The air was still a bit stifling, even with the onset of nightfall. Boisterous laughter wafted down at us as we passed South City Kitchen on the way to the parking garage. Ginger didn’t say anything as we walked. Instead, she actively looked at the passersby, focusing her attention anywhere but on me. The nightlife in Atlanta was always active, even on weekdays, although some saw Thursday as the official start to the weekend.

The moment we got to her car, Ginger dug through her purse to retrieve her keys.

Let me take you home.

She stopped rummaging and hesitated a moment before she looked up at me. Her eyes were wide, and color had drained from her face. Malcolm, I—

It’s not what you think.

Her parents had hinted to it earlier, so I already knew the first thought that popped into her head. I looked forward to the day I could make love to her, but I knew today was not that day. It was too soon, for both of us. Simply falling asleep holding her in my arms, that would be a dream, but she wasn’t ready for that either. She barely wanted me to hug her.

You’ve had a little too much to drink, and I’d feel better driving you home. I’ll crash on the couch.

Oh. I’ll be fine. I mean, I am fine.

I started to object, but she put her hand up to silence me. Malcolm, today…all of this. I need time…to process.

I’d gotten more than I’d expected, so I dropped it. I stepped toward her, and she took a step back. I remembered the look of fear she had on her face at the house. And the panicked look she’d just given me at the suggestion.

I moved back to give her more space. I understand.

Her shoulders relaxed, and she breathed a sigh of relief. Thank you.

Relieved. I tried to tell myself it wasn’t personal. I tried to tell myself it was because of what he’d done to her, but it still stung.

She unlocked her car and started to climb in, but stopped. She hesitated for a moment before she walked over, stretched up on her tiptoes to put her arms around my neck, and hugged me. My eyes closed. I let my arms wrap around her slender waist, and I held her tight, reveling in the moment of Ginger initiating contact with me. Something she hadn’t done in two years.

I love you, Ginger, I whispered.

She tensed then pulled away. Goodnight, Mal.

I stood in the parking lot until she drove off. The day hadn’t gone exactly as I’d hoped, but it could’ve been worse. She could have turned me down, but she didn’t. Somehow I’d managed to save what could’ve been a colossal fuck-up on my part.

2

CALIDA

Once I pulled into the garage, I turned off the car and let my head rest on the steering wheel. I’d thought about going to pick up Shawn, but he was probably already in bed. Plus, Mom would want to know why I wasn’t with Malcolm. I didn’t want to have that talk with my mother.

Malcolm. I looked at the ring he’d given me. I’d told him I didn’t want this. I’d told him to find some other woman to date. He’d never had a shortage of women that wanted him, but he’d refused. He wanted to prove his commitment to me. Now, everyone acted like we were engaged. Momma D, and Mom talked about wedding plans. On top of that, my mom—my—own mother thought I was going to jump into bed with him. Then he asked me to spend the night. Why would he do that? Because he didn’t know. No one knew, and it needed to stay that way.

I climbed out and slammed the car door. Pressing the button on the wall, the garage door hummed to life and closed out the rest of the world. I paused before entering the house. I didn’t want to go into the dark and empty place alone, but that was my only choice. The house was eerily quiet; I hadn’t expected to be out so late, even with the adjustment in my appointment time, so I hadn’t left any lights on. The moonlight streamed through the windows in the kitchen, casting creepy shadows along the floor. I hung my keys on the key rack next to where Seth’s still hung.

I’d decorated every room in this place, but it’d never felt like home. Yet, I couldn’t bring myself to leave. None of them understood it, and I couldn’t explain it to them. How could I tell them that here, of all places, was the one place I could let down my guard? Despite all that happened, I could come back here at the end of each day and simply be without having to worry about my actions. This had become my judgment free zone. I gave a bitter laugh at the irony.

My favorite room was Shawn’s, so that’s where I headed. At first, I’d hated that it was upstairs, since the master bedroom was located on the main floor. Then I realized it gave me the perfect and believable excuse for why I’d moved out of there; choosing, instead, to stay in the guest room next door to his.

I flipped the switch, flooding Shawn’s Thomas the Train themed room with light. I’d poured all my energy into decorating his room with the help of my ex-business partner, Kerrin. She’d asked if I’d return to work, but I couldn’t. A Woman’s Touch Design had been an illusion, like much of my life with Seth. He’d made me think the business had been mine, but in truth it’d been another way he’d held control over me.

The loneliness surrounded me as I stood in the center of Shawn’s vacant space. I wanted him here to hold, to talk to. I confided in my toddler more than I did Dr. Carr. More than I did anyone. I wanted him here, but my parents stole him away, thinking I needed alone time with Malcolm. There’d been a time when I would have jumped at that chance. Now, it was the one thing I didn’t want or need.

Closing my eyes, my fingers went to my lips, remembering the kiss Mal had given me. It stirred feelings in me I’d long thought to be dead. They needed to remain that way. The life I was building was all I needed. It was neat; simple. I’d constructed it that way, and that’s how it was supposed to stay. But Malcolm was no longer pacified with my excuses.

Malcolm. There were three hundred and sixty-five days in the year, and he’d picked today. I was angry that he’d done it in general, but especially since he’d chosen today. The anniversary of Seth’s death. The one day I allowed myself to grieve for the life I took. Even though Dr. Carr didn’t think I had a reason to feel guilty for killing him. She said I’d done what I needed to do in order to protect myself and my child. But I needed one damn day of regret. So many bad choices led me to that point. How could I not carry guilt and remorse? Without it, I was no better than Seth.

I needed a drink. Turning off the light, I headed downstairs. I pulled out a Moscato from the wine fridge, popped the cork, and poured myself a glassful.

I held my glass up toward the lady on the cliff. Cheers. I’d spent hours sitting on the couch staring at that painting, wishing I could be her—free and away from it all.

I drank down the wine without even tasting the flavor, and then I quickly refilled the glass. As I brought it to my lips, my gaze wandered down the darkened hallway, which led to our bedroom. After finishing the second glass just as fast as the first, I sat it down on the marble bar top and picked up the bottle. Drinking from it directly, I found myself heading toward the master bedroom. A room I hadn’t entered since I’d moved upstairs.

My hand shook when I placed it on the doorknob. I’d kept the door shut, hoping to keep the ghosts locked inside, but it didn’t work. They were always with me. He was always with me. I took another drink before turning the knob. The full moon illuminated the space thanks to the large floor-to-ceiling bay windows. I didn’t turn on the lights; I didn’t need to. I didn’t need to cast more light on the horrible memories contained within these walls.

The bed, like much of the room, remained untouched. Every decorative pillow was in place. It looked inviting, but it was a lie. Turning the bottle up, I took another drink as my legs carried me, seemingly of their own free will, farther into the room. I stood in front of his closet door. A door that had remained closed since I came back to this place. I opened it, and flipped the light switch. All of Seth’s clothes still hung neatly organized, just as he’d left them. I hadn’t touched a thing. My mind played tricks on me, because it smelled like him, as if he’d just been in there getting dressed for the day. Goosebumps popped up on my arms.

My fingers touched his shirts as I walked down the neatly color-coordinated rows, stopping in the white section. I placed the bottle of wine down on the built-in mahogany dresser that sat in the center of the space, and then I pulled out the shirt he’d worn the day we’d met. I put it on, brought the fabric to my nose, and inhaled deeply. It did smell like him, as if his essence was fused into each strand of the cotton. Wrapping the shirt tighter around my body, I grabbed the bottle and guzzled more of the wine.

I slid down to the floor, staring up at the color coordinated neatness. Everything always had to be perfect. Including me. I was the puppet, and he was the puppeteer. He controlled every aspect of my life with fear. The fear he’d hurt someone I loved and the fear he’d kill me.

I’d played my part well.

I took another drink. Mal was right about one thing: Seth remained in control. Fear never went away. It only changed and morphed into something new. Seth had me so well trained that I still played the part.

I laid down on the plush carpet and curled my body, hugging myself until I drifted off into what I hoped would be a dreamless sleep.

I awoke the next morning confused and with a pounding headache. I quickly covered my eyes to block out the light. As I attempted to get up, my leg hit something. Slowly, I lifted my fingers to see an empty wine bottle roll and come to rest against a black shoe—his shoe. Why did I come in here? My chest constricted and my breathing turned to rapid pants. I fought to get his shirt off, feeling suffocated with it on. I fled from the confined space, and slammed the door behind me.

I struggled to get air into my lungs. My heart pounded. The room spun. Dropping to my knees, I took deep, slow breaths, trying to stave off the impending panic attack. My limbs shook. Tears leaked from my eyes. I watched as one dropped from the path it had taken down the bridge of my nose, onto the plush carpet below.

My hands balled into fists as more tears followed that same path. The hot, pulsating throbbing of my head magnified the ringing in my ears. I swallowed hard, trying to fight against the growing urge to vomit. These things were supposed to be getting better. I was supposed to be getting better.

I am better. I am better. I am better. I repeated the mantra, willing myself to believe it. I’d been managing without the pills for nearly nine months now; I didn’t want to go back on them. I stayed on my hands and knees, trying to get control over my body.

Time ticked by slowly, but eventually my breathing slowed, my gag reflex dissipated, and my body no longer trembled. My heart rate lowered to a normal beat. I unclenched my fists, allowing my muscles to relax and oxygen to flow through me in a steady rhythm. Six months. It had been six months since my last panic attack. Mentally, I reset the counter, like one of those accident-free posters seen in workplaces. Using the doorknob for support, I pulled myself up, then stumbled from the master bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

After taking a shower, getting dressed, and taking a couple of aspirin, I called Dr. Carr. Once I got off the phone with her, I called my parents to check on Shawn and to see if they could keep him for a little while longer. My father made it a point to let me know that last question was never needed. They spoiled him rotten, especially since Dorian wasn’t going to be giving them grandchildren anytime soon.

Her marriage to Daniel was on the rocks and most likely headed for divorce. She now knew firsthand the pain of being cheated on. She knew how deep that sort of betrayal cut. Part of me felt sorry for her, but part of me, a small part of me, sort of enjoyed her pain. When I’d been cheated on by Paul, she’d had no sympathy. She’d loved to make snide comments about my inability to keep a man satisfied. Hell, she’d even invited him to her wedding.

He’d died that night. Ruled an accident, but now I knew better. It’d become another one of the memories that replayed in my head with the knowledge of who Seth really was. I shook my head and pushed away those thoughts.

Seth’s cars mocked me when I entered the garage. Just like his closet, they’d remained untouched. I needed to sell them, but I hadn’t. Instead, they sat under their custom-made car covers, serving as more reminders of a life forgotten. With a heavy sigh, I hit the button on the wall to open the garage door, climbed into my small SUV, and headed toward Dr. Carr’s Buckhead office.

You knew! I accused when I entered her office twenty minutes later.

She closed the door behind me. Good morning to you as well, Calida,

I dropped my bag into the chair in front of her desk and started pacing. The soothing blue colors and calming ocean décor were not having their desired effect. She’d told me yesterday that Malcolm had come to see her for advice. She knew I was walking into an ambush and yet she’d said nothing.

Do you want to tell me what it is I knew about? she asked in her annoyingly even tone.

I turned to glare at her. She always seemed to irritate me more than anything, and I found myself wondering why I hadn’t found a new therapist. Or why I even continued therapy at all.

Malcolm! You knew he was planning that…that ambush, and you didn’t warn me. Or better yet, you didn’t tell him not to. I dropped down into the club chair across from where she sat.

Dr. Carr pushed her square-rimmed glasses up on her nose. I don’t tell my patients what to do or what not to do. I merely help them come to positive solutions on their own terms.

But he’s not your patient. I am.

He paid me for my time, as a…consultation. Which brings me to your first issue of me not telling you. I didn’t know what he had planned. He simply asked for the best way to deal with approaching a woman who had been through a traumatic relationship. Strictly in hypothetical terms. I could not tell you what he was or was not going to do because that would have been breaking privilege. I only told you he came because he asked me to before he left.

I narrowed my eyes at her. Since you like hypotheticals so much, why not tell me ‘hypothetically’ that he was going to propose, well not really propose, but sorta. UGH! I balled my fists in my hair. He even had our parents there. I couldn’t say no, not with them all looking so happy and expectantly at me. It wasn’t right. You weren’t right, and he wasn’t right.

Her head cocked to the side, and her voice raised an octave. He asked you to marry him?

Guess Malcolm didn’t give her the whole story. I looked down at the ring I now wore on my right hand instead of the left. I’d taken it off after I’d gotten dressed, but something made me put it back on. I was glad it wasn’t an engagement ring; that sort of pressure—commitment—I really wasn’t ready for. In another life, one before Seth, everything Malcolm had said to me yesterday would have made my heart sing. Years of playful flirting had fed into the pipe dream. I’d been young and naïve then, but hopeful. Now…now my world view was irrevocably jaded.

I massaged my temples. The aspirin wasn't doing much to alleviate the morning after headache. "No, not really. But something close. He basically told me he wasn’t going to allow me to continue saying no to