Page 260 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

Leonard chuckled. “Far from it. I could not imagine what it must feel like to be you, John. To be constantly stuck in a high-intensity emotional headspace twenty-four-seven. To feel things much faster, and more extremely, than those around me. And yet, you do it every day, and handle yourself all the while. That’s admirable, not pathetic.”

Well, then.

“Mmm, your woman, too, I suppose,” Leonard added after a moment.

John scrubbed a hand down his unshaven jaw—making a mental note to shave. “What about her?”

“She’s a safe place for you, too.”

“More so than anyone else.”

Understatement.

“So you do have places you can go where you do not have to be on edge at every waking second,” the man said.

“She’s not around very much at the moment, so no, I’m stuck with—”

“Me,” Leonard interrupted with a grin.

Again, the man tapped his watch. John didn’t know what he was getting at.

“We’ll add an extra hour onto the two sessions a week you already do, and add a third session on Wednesdays to break up your week.”

John groaned under his breath. “I don’t have time—”

“You will make time because you need to.”

Fuck.

Leonard waved a finger at the doorway where Lucian had disappeared. “Go let your father know you’ll both be here for a bit longer.”

“Wait, you mean we start the extra hour today?” John asked.

“I did not stutter,” Leonard murmured.

John found his father sitting on the front steps of Leonard’s quiet Brooklyn home. Lucian alternated between sipping his bourbon, and smoking a cigarette. He offered the pack to his son, and John took one out.

Maybe a smoke would calm his nerves.

Who fucking knew?

John didn’t smoke very often, now. Just whenever the urge struck, or he needed a bit of stress relief. That first drag off the cigarette burned his lungs like nothing else, but also felt like calm swimming through his veins.

“Are you done for the day?” Lucian asked.

“Not entirely. Another hour, or so.”

“Okay.”

John glanced over at his father, but found Lucian didn’t seem the least bit bothered that he couldn’t leave. In fact, Lucian seemed perfectly content to sit right where he was, and wait for his son.

“Thanks, Papa.”

Lucian looked up from his seat. “For what, John?”

“This.”

You.