“Good. Cynthia is nice,” I say, leaning into him. “And she didn’t ask me to relive the last fifteen years of my life, which I appreciate.”
Ever since Jenna went on maternity leave, I have been putting off scheduling an appointment with the therapist covering for her. When Ryan gently suggested again that I book one, I was reluctant but called and put my name on the cancellation list.
And what do you know, I got in right away. I’ll pretend Ryan had nothing to do with that.
It was good to have someone outside of Ryan and my friend group to talk to about my situation with Braden. I told her how Vaughan wants to help me and that I’m not convinced it will work. She reminded me that filing for a restraining order was still an option if his harassment continued. That alone put my mind at ease.
We even briefly touched on my relationship with my parents. She suggested that if I wasn’t ready to talk to them, maybe it would be helpful to write a letter to tell them how I’m feeling. Not for them—for me. I’ll think about it.
“How did your morning go?” I ask.
“Good.” He grins. “I just finished up my notes. We can head back to the yellow house as soon as you’re ready.”
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
We knew from Vaughan that Braden had been in Toronto for the past several days. Busy with the new job Vaughan created to get him out of Emerley—and away from me. All the pieces are falling into place.
I sent him a text last night letting him know I had the truck, and the house was empty. If he wanted his things, he’d have to come to the yellow house to get them. My phone rang almost immediately, and I ignored it.
When he realized I wasn’t going to answer, he sent a text message.
Braden
Were you spying on me?
You knew I wasn’t around so you stole all my stuff?
WTF Beck.
When I didn’t reply, he told me he would be here today at three.
Now I wait, watching the clock tick closer to the hour, my hands wrapped around a warm mug of hot chocolate. Ryan sits close with his arm circling my shoulder. Mason knows what’s happening, and he’s not far away if we need him. But we don’t expect this to be a problem.
It was all I could do to keep Aunt Maggie and our friends away. I’m not alone, but I need to do this myself.
“Are you feeling okay?” Ryan asks softly, checking in.
I nod, setting my mug down on the coffee table. “Yeah, I’ve got this.”
Right on time, a firm knock echoes throughout the living room. I half expected him to make me wait. Ryan shifts beside me, ready to stand, but I place a firm hand on his knee.
“No,” I say softly, shaking my head. “I’ll get it.”
Rising, I smooth down my sweater and walk towards the door. I’m ready.
Blowing out a breath, my hand pauses on the knob briefly. When I open the door, Braden is standing on the veranda, shoulders pulled up to his ears to ward off the cold. His cheeks and nose are pink from the wind, but otherwise he looks…good. Happy?
For a split second, it throws me. I wasn’t sure what version of him I was going to get.
“Where’s my stuff?” he asks, standing a little too close, but he doesn’t make a move to enter.
“It’s here,” I say evenly, gesturing to the two boxes and a backpack beside me. “I packed all your clothes but got rid of the rest.”
I catch Ryan in my peripheral vision, but he makes no move to come closer or intervene.
“Fine. I won’t need it, anyway.” Glancing quickly over his shoulder at the truck idling at the curb, he asks, “Are you not even going to ask where I’ve been?”
“No,” I say, pursing my lips and shaking my head. “It’s none of my business.”
