She and the old ladies joined our table a little bit ago, and I had to have misheard her. After introducing herself to me as the friend of the club with the brother who’d passed, she just started talking, and it took me a second to understand her.
“A therapy kitten,” she says with a single nod.
I look at everyone at the table, skeptical of what she’s saying. “Is that even a thing?”
“It shouldn’t be.” Jules shudders as she drinks her Diet Coke, and her guy chuckles as he lifts her off her seat before dropping her back onto his lap as they share the same chair.
Unlike her, I’m not opposed to cats. Never had one, but I’ve also never had a problem with them. No clue why Jules hates them; despite us being close, that’s one mystery I haven’t solved. With her brain injury, I don’t think she knows either, only that she doesn’t like them.
Abigail shrugs. “Why not? They’ve got therapy birds and rabbits. They might as well have therapy cats. I might not know everything about the vet world, but it makes sense to me. Besides, we just got in a group of kitties, and they need a home.”
“Ah, now we’re getting down to it,” Jordan says with a laugh, which Abigail at least looks a bit guilty about.
“Okay, so it’s two parts. I want to find them good homes, but I also think it’ll help. I’m not asking you to take all of them or anything, but I really think having a small snuggle buddy can help. I read that cats can sense negative emotions and help relieve stress or anxiety.”
“Yeah, but don’t they have to be trained or something? Like how therapy dogs go through some sort of training? How is a kitten going to know how to sense a negative emotion?” Gidget asks, and I nod along in agreement.
Another shrug from Abigail. “No clue. But a purring cat scientifically reduces the stress levels in humans. Plus, it’s a kitten. They’re soft, snuggly, purring machines. What’s not to love? If that isn’t the definition of what we all want in a therapy session, then I don’t know what is.”
“You go to a lot of therapy?” Cheyanne asks, and Abigail turns pink. I didn’t pick up on that, but I guess Fairy did, and from the looks of it, Abigail would rather not talk about it.
“Um, sure. I’ll try it,” I say to pull the attention away from her. Even after everything, I still feel the need to protect people from uncomfortable situations. Guess I’ll never get over that part of myself. Not that I hate it, just don’t know who I’ll become after what happened.
I know things take time, and I’m not about to rush back into my normal life like some might do. Reese has been the biggest supporter of me taking my time. In all things. He suggested I take six months off work, but I couldn’t do that to my students, even if I’m not completely okay. They need someone to fight for them, and no matter what I’m going through, I will be there for them. In the end, I agreed to three months, but I’ve got a feeling that I’m going to try to get back earlier than that.
I’m worried about talking to my family. Troy put thoughts in my head, doubts. And Jules hit the nail on the head with her talking about him playing on my fears of being unwanted. I never felt that with my adoptive parents, but every kid has a small part of them that asks why their birth parents aren’t around. I know my biological mom died because of drugs, but it’s made me upset the older I’ve gotten that she didn’t take better care of herself and me. But as soon as I’d have that thought, I usually also told her ghost thank you for leaving this world so I could find my new parents. They’ve loved me since the beginning and never treated me differently just because we have different skin colors.
But that didn’t stop others, mostly kids, from being mean. For asking why my real mom and dad didn’t want me. That was all before high school, where I was constantly pushed away and told I wasn’t wanted in this group or the next. At least I had the misfits. They got me through a lot, even though they didn’t know all that was going on with me and what I was hiding from them.
Jesus, I was such an idiot. I should have seen Troy for the monster he was. If not when we were kids, then I should have noticed something was off when he became a principal. Surely I missed something that said he was a danger to the kids he was supposedly taking care of. Who knows how many he victimized?
“Stop.”
I look up, instinctively knowing Flint is talking to me, and see he’s the only one looking at me while the rest are talking to each other. He’s across and a chair down from me. I’m sitting in the last chair on the opposite side of the rectangle tabletop, with Meekail at the head and Jordan directly across from me.
“Whatever you’re thinking, you’re wrong. No one could have seen this coming. He was smart and knew what he was doing. I did enough research on him to know he was squeaky clean. He hid this side of him well. Not even the stupid bitch married to him knew, and now she gets to deal with the fallout, as no one will believe she didn’t have a hand in this or at least know something. So don’t beat yourself up thinking you should have known or seen something when he only started as your boss a few months ago, and you didn’t see each other every day like she did.”
I nod and take a deep breath. He’s right. That’s what Reese has said, and I need to stop pushing people away, thinking they don’t know what I’m thinking. It’s obvious if Flint can say all that after just looking at me. I need to stop trying to do this alone. I knew I was, which is half the reason I’m here tonight. To push myself past this wall I erected around me. Tonight is my celebration for rejoining the world and not just living in my house. I’m not going to get over my fear of being taken again or what happens to kids all around the world, but I can breathe. I can become stronger and live my life. A life with family, friends, and the man I love.
“Attagirl,” Flint says with a smile, and I just roll my eyes. Of course he saw the moment I decided to move through this. Not past it, but with it.
“Where you headed?” Mike asks as I stand up. He’s become a silent guard for me, and I can’t help but love him for it. Without trying, he’s basically my second dad. Not sure if he and Margret are still a thing or not. I’ve seen them talking a bit, but when I’m around, he seems to just focus on me. Not that she seems to mind, as she usually just smiles and goes on her way. Actually, everyone at the club does that. I’m not seen as a burden by any. No one has complained, at least not to me, about the extra guards I asked Reese to have on the house or around me. It’s not that I don’t trust him—I just can’t get over the fear that one person isn’t enough. But now I’m willing to let go of that fear and just trust in my man to take care of me.
“Got to see a guy about a kiss,” I say with a wink.
“Think the saying is ‘see a guy about a horse,’” Meekail supplies.
“Pretty sure she means that, too, but I doubt she wanted to compare her man’s dick to a horse with his dad,” Jordan says matter-of-factly, making me burst out laughing as Mike gives him a sour look and Meekail spits out a bit of his beer before glaring at his man.
I shake my head as I make my way over to my guy and Bass. I know where he is all the time now. I make a point to keep eyes on him, not out of fear for me but fear for him. Three days locked in that room let me know that being without him is unbearable. The thought that something could happen to him sends me into more nightmares than anything else—not that I tell him. And I’m hoping that after tonight, I can move past this fear. Half the reason why I haven’t been intimate with him is that I’d rather sleep lightly and hear something coming than be exhausted and dead to the world from the orgasms. Which we’ve done to each other before.
Until now, I haven’t been ready to take that next step. But tonight I am. I think half of it is because I saw that Troy was sentenced to prison with no chance of parole. I hadn’t asked about him when I got out, refusing to let him take up any more of my mind. But this morning it was on the news, and I just couldn’t find it in me to change the channel. Reese was taking a shower, and I found myself settling into the couch as I watched the news report and breathed easier for the first time in weeks. Once Reese got out of the shower, I knew I was ready to face life again.
Starting with my parents.
When I get to my man, he wraps his arm around me as he talks to Bass. I don’t say anything, just listen to them talk a bit about Bass’s upcoming trip up north, then pull my phone out and open my parents’ thread. I wince at the number of texts they’ve sent over the past few weeks and my simple one-liners every now and again.
I take a second before I type out and send my text.
