Page 43 of The Omega Switch: Part 2

"It’s your family, isn’t it?” He asked, and I nodded.

"They're doing it again! They steal my work, convince everyone it belongs to them, and somehow I'm the one who has to defend myself. I’m tired of all the lies!” I said, my voice cracking as the rage built up inside of me.

"You're angry." he said, almost in surprise.

"Uh, of course I am," I said. Who wouldn’t be?

"Good." His voice was calm now. "That’s really good. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you angry before.” He said, and I realized he was right. I never outwardly expressed rage. Ronan went on.

“You've spent too long suppressing that anger. You got punished every time you showed it, that’s very obvious now.” He glanced toward my boutique. "I think it's time you stopped resisting it."

I looked at him, exasperated. "I don't know how," I said, throwing my hands up in the air. He looked at me knowingly.

"I do." He gestured toward the boutique. "Come, I’ll show you. Permission to enter?

He looked toward the door, and I nodded, not sure what he was up to. But as we went inside, he led me to the sitting area at the back of my office. He gestured to the couch, which was covered in pillows. Ronan picked one up, the pillow suddenly looking tiny against his large frame.

"What are you doing?" I asked as he held it against his chest.

"Hit it," he ordered.

I looked at him in confusion.

"...What?"

"Hit the pillow." He urged. I looked at him like he was crazy.

"I can't hit you," I said. I’d never hit anything in my life.

His eyebrows lifted. "Ivy. I'm six-foot-six and spent years getting punched for a living.” He said, a grin appearing on his face. "I promise your fist against a throw pillow isn't going to hurt me."

I suddenly felt a bit of laughter escape. "This is ridiculous," I said.

"So prove me wrong." He lifted the pillow a little higher. "Go on," he urged. I looked at it, raised my fist… and gave it the weakest shove imaginable. Ronan looked unimpressed.

"You call that anger?" He asked, looking at me with doubt.

"I've never hit anything before," I admitted.

"I can tell." He shifted, bracing his stance. "Again."

I sighed dramatically, then pushed the pillow harder. It thumped against his chest.

"Better." I kind of hated that I loved his praise. He handed me another pillow.

"This one represents all the lies everyone ever told." He declared.

I snorted. "Seriously?"

"Yes. Now what do you want to do if all those lies took a physical form?"

I looked down at the pillow, remembering the recent video I just watched where Arabella claimed someone was copying “her” products. I swung, letting out a loud huff when I made contact. The pillow smacked into his forearms with a satisfying whump.

"Again. Let it out! Get loud if you need to!” Ronan encouraged. I hit the pillow again, harder this time.

"Again. All that rage, let it out.” He said, and I hit again, harder. This time, I yelled out in anger.

“That’s it, Ivy. Don’t hold back.” Ronan said.