“No, never,” he said, shaking his head. “I just don’t want her to regret it.”
The idea haunted him—what if his need for closeness had cost her something she wasn’t ready to give?
“That’s not something you can control. However, if you’re worried about it, talk to her. Let her know she can be honest about what she’s feeling. But let’s discuss you for a minute. How’re you doing?”
“I’m good.” He grinned. Maybe it was the time, the distance, the therapy and healing along the way, but he hadn’t had any adverse reactions when it came to having sex with the woman he loved. “I mean, it was Becca, you know? We have a connection, a…shit, I don’t even know how to describe it…but it’s always been her for me.”
“That’s terrific, I’m happy for you. But remember, recovery isn’t always a straight path forward. Continue to be cognizant of how things are changing for both of you. Listen to your heart and body as well as hers and make sure to keep the channels of communication open.”
“One day at a time,” he joked, quoting Nalini’s favorite bit of advice.
“You got it.” Her smile lit up her face. “Let Becca set the pace on her healing journey, and remember, you’re not responsible for Maya’s actions. You can’t go back. You can’t rewrite history. You can’t fix it, change it, or make it disappear. But you can move forward. You can choose how you want to live your life. And you can show Becca love by offering her unconditional support. Offering her comfort. And being there for her when she needs and wants you, regardless of the path she chooses.”
Yeah, he knew that. But knowing it didn’t make it any easier to watch her struggle. “Thanks, Doc. I really appreciate you taking my call.”
“Anytime,” she replied. “And don’t forget—you don’t have to have all the answers, Jay. You just need to keep an open mind as you consider the questions.”
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
“There,” Jamie said as he tweezed the last stitch from Becca’s back.
“Thanks.” She breathed a sigh of relief, rolling her shoulders to ease the itch she couldn’t quite reach.
“Let me get a bit of ointment.” He scrabbled around in the rolling cart next to him, and coming up with a dented tube, he uncapped and applied a bit of medicated cream with the tip of a blue-gloved finger.
The crawling sensation under her skin went from an army of biting insects to an annoying centipede, and she sighed in relief.
“Better?” he asked.
“Yep.” She nodded.
“Your skin’s still a little irritated around the incision. Any chance I can convince you to wear something without an elastic? I’m sure Eve won’t mind if we ask her for?—”
“No, thanks. I’m good,” she replied, cutting him off. The closest to her in size, Eve had already offered up her entire wardrobe for Becca’s use, but she didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness any more than she already had. “But I’ll take the ointment if that’s okay.”
“Yeah, of course.” He left the tube on top of the tray, and procedure complete, he stripped off his gloves, balled them up, and tossed them into a nearby garbage can.
The hard part still to come, she stuck her arms back into the sleeves of Jay’s sweatshirt, pulling it down and getting comfy before she swiveled on her stool to face Jamie, knowing they weren’t done.
He wanted to talk about earlier. About her spazzing out in the kitchen. She couldn’t blame him. Summer and Halia had been there. What if she’d done something crazy? What if she’d hurt one of them by accident?
In terms of panic attacks, it’d been a short one, with Jay bringing her back to herself in record time, but who knew what she might be capable of in that state? The possibilities scared her, and evidently, it had scared Jamie too, or she wouldn’t be here, staring into his kind eyes, and waiting for the hammer to drop.
“Alright,” he said, wheeling a bit of distance between their stools so he could stretch out his long legs and cross them at the ankles. “I know you don’t want to talk about it. But we need to. So let’s have it. Give me the details, straightforward and factual, from the beginning.”
Fingers entwined, his arms hung loose, his hands resting against his thighs as he watched her carefully. He wasn’t judging; she got the sense he never would. But his direct gaze told her, as a medical professional, he wouldn’t be letting this go.
“They started a little more than two years ago.” She exhaled a ragged breath and dropped her eyes to the floor. “After I found out about Maya and Dominion. I knew she’d come looking for Jay, and I, uh…panicked.”
God! She could still feel the helplessness, the cold fear, the vulnerability of not being in control of herself, of losing time, and not knowing what had happened while she’d been locked away in her own head.
“The second one happened in a tattoo parlor in Paris…the needles…they…” She stabbed her finger against the fabric covering her arm a couple of times, and he nodded like he got the idea, so she took another breath and continued.
“The worst one was in Munich about a week before Volkov’s men caught up to me—I mean—Maya.” She shrugged. “They were infrequent at first, but lately…it seems to be happening more often.”
“Tell me what it feels like.”
“It happens fast,” she replied, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “It comes on like an out-of-control freight train in my chest, and the voices in my head get so loud it drowns out everything else.”
