"Have you ever thought about going to get therapy?"
"I… No. I've never thought about it. There's too much that's gone on in my life to share with someone like that. And it's not like I could explain to someone that part of my stress is because I'm a mafia boss."
He kissed my temple. "Maybe you could. Therapists have certain legal responsibilities, but I'm certain we could find someone for you if you wanted."
"I don't have the time." The words spilled out of my mouth before I could stop them.
"You do, Lina. We can't do anything to Felipe or Simon right now without bringing down half the police department and governmental agencies upon our heads. If we could have, then we would have already. Now is actually the perfect time."
He had a point, and I hated that he did. Opening up to him was hard enough, but to a complete stranger who I'd pay to tell me what was wrong with me? Someone who would judge me, take notes on my past? See me as weak and pitiful?
I didn't want that. I couldn't even stand the thought of it.
Marco rubbed my cheek, and I looked at him once more. That was what made my decision for me, what quieted the scared little girl inside of me—him.
I never wanted to use my past against him like I did today. If we were going to argue or fight, fine, but I wanted to keep him in my life, and that meant I needed to be fair to him.
"If we can find someone, I'll… I'll go."
He rained kisses over my head, then kissed me so sweetly I thought I was going to melt.
We held each other until my arms went numb, and even then, I didn't want to let him go.
He'd done so much for me, become so much to me. Marco was my entire world. Life had been dull, colorless without him, but with him, everything was shockingly vivid. There was joy, laughter, happiness. And a feeling that I didn't know—one that filled my heart so entirely it removed every doubt I had when he was in my arms.
I kissed him. It was all I could do because there was no other way for me to convey my emotions.
I couldn't fathom how someone so wonderful had become a part of my life. But the one thing I did know was Marco Torrino belonged to me. And I would not let him go.
Ever.
19
Catalina
Istared at the office building where my new therapist worked, fear running through my veins.
I never thought I'd be here.
I'd gone through so much in my life, so much that I didn't know how to speak of or approach, so I'd just buried it as much as I could. But I couldn't do that anymore.
I wanted my relationship with Marco to last for as long as it could. I'd become accustomed to waking up with him in my bed, cooking beside him, eating and working together in my house. The smell and feel of him, listening to him breathe as I rested my head on his chest. He was my safe place, my home, and I never wanted to hurt him ever again.
Facing my fears was a small price to pay if it meant I could ensure his happiness.
But deep inside of me, there was another reason I'd agreed to come here, a hope I'd drowned out that came roaring back to life.
I didn’t want to feel broken anymore.
There were so many things I had forced myself to work through that I often felt dysfunctional.
I had a responsibility to a lot of people. And for them, I wanted to be more aligned and balanced, but I also wanted to know what that version of me would look like.
I'd always thought I could do it later, when I'd escaped from my father, when I'd killed Fernando, when I’d found the trafficked victims.
But Simon and Fernando—even from his grave—were still causing chaos in my life, and it might never end. I might never find the young girls and women. And even if I did, who knew what other secrets Fernando and Simon had? Who knew how long it would take to beat Felipe and win the war he'd started?
I couldn't keep shoving my mental and emotional health to the back-burner, no matter how scared I was. Yes, this therapist might judge me, not believe me, or worse, but I'd handle it, just like I always did.
