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“There is no one better than you, Sabrina. Not a single fucking person.”
Then he kisses her again.
And again.
And again.
Chapter Nine
Sabrina
It hurt to say it out loud.
It hurt to remember.
Maybe it shouldn’t have, but it did.
“It still hurts,” I tell Wilson, pulling away.
“I know.”
He lost someone, too.
He lost everyone.
“Does it ever stop hurting?”
“Never,” he tells me.
“You could have at least lied to me.”
“I will never lie to you, Sabrina. I won’t be a perfect man. I won’t pretend that I will. I can tell you this, though: I will never, ever mislead you.”
“Sometimes it feels like my heart is too broken to ever be useful,” I whisper.
It’s something I’ve never told anyone. It’s a secret: my secret.
Being a therapist has its pros and cons. The biggest pro is that I get to help people realize they can heal. The biggest con is that I don’t ever do any healing myself. Sometimes things happen to me and I just cling to them like they’re some sort of lifeboat, but they aren’t.
None of this is okay.
I shouldn’t be dwelling.
Not at all.
“Sabrina, I’m not going to tell you that the pain disappears, but I can tell you that over time, you can learn to deal with the pain.”
“We were together for so long,” I tell him. “We met in high school, dated in college, and then we got married.”
“Sweetheart, she wasn’t right for you. Anyone that treats you like you aren’t important isn’t right for you.”
“And we’re both here for you,” Reece says. He climbs off the bed and joins us. He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around me, covering me with his warmth. “We can’t ever replace what you lost, baby, but we can help heal your wounds.”
“We can remind you that you’re perfect,” Wilson agrees.
“And lovely.”
“And the best thing to ever walk through our front door.”
