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“I’llBeOK”—NothingMore
Funny how something so small can cause such profound changes.
“I’m very pleased with your progress over the last few months,” my therapist Helen Thomas said with a kind smile.
“Thanks. I know it’s going to be a work in progress for a long time. I just knew I needed to get my life on track now more than ever.”
“Speaking of… how have things been going since our last visit?” she asked as she glanced down at her notebook.
“Really good. Thanks,” I said with one of the first genuine smiles in a while. She looked up with a pleased but expectant expression as she waited for me to continue.
“Though I’ve been tired a lot lately.”
My hand rested protectively over the barely noticeable bump. Yep. That tiny flashing YES+ was the catalyst I needed to get my shit straight. Besides being tired of feeling like that incident was all my life consisted of and allowing it to rule me, I needed to get myself in a better place for my baby.
“Have you told the father yet?” she asked with concern apparent in her gaze.
I sighed. “I just can’t. Not yet. Not until I know I’m better.”
“But you just told me you understand this is an ongoing process. There is never going to be an opportune time to tell him. Unless you’re concerned for your safety if he takes it like an asshole?” Her brows rose as she waited to see if that was the case.
“No, not at all. But I know if I tell him, nothing will keep him from coming back, and he can’t. He’s out of town for his job, and I don’t want him getting in trouble, so I’m taking advantage of this time to get myself where I need to be—or as close to it as I can get before he comes home. I want us to have a fighting chance.” I also hadn’t decided how I was going to tell my brother that Chains had knocked me up.
Not that us being together wasn’t a hundred percent consensual, but after the way my brother had acted the day I was in Nico’s room, I couldn’t be sure.Angel’s club is so damn worried about what an inter-family relationship gone bad could do to the club? Wait ’til they found out about this. Shit is gonna hit the fan.
“I’m sure there are ways he could come home briefly, but I understand. Just don’t wait too long. He has a right to know and be involved too.”
“I know, and I promise as soon as I’m able, I’ll tell him.” I prayed Nico would be happy about the baby.
My heart clenched at not knowing how much longer we’d be apart, but I tried to tell myself it was okay because that gave me more time to get myself straight. Then again, it also prolonged us not being able to do anything about our situation.
Which made me angry at myself for insisting he keep us a secret. Looking back, I could now see it was because I was fucked in the head, and he’d been right. I was using sex as my drug to self-medicate, my way of having control over my body. My therapist believed I’d been comfortable having sex with him because he was from the pre-rape part of my life and I trusted him. My actions had come back to bite me in the ass, but I was learning how to deal with that too.
But God, I missed him. Not just the sex either—that was simply a bonus. I missed his smile, I missed him holding me, I missed the sound of his voice, but most of all, I missed how when we were together, he always made me feel like I was important.
“I want you to continue to write in your journal. I also would like to see you find a way that works for you to tell the father. Maybe write out what you want to say to him,” she said as she set her pen and notepad to the side. We both stood, and I grabbed my purse.
I made my follow-up appointment with the front desk and stepped out into the late August sun. Tilting my head back to capture it, I jumped when I heard a voice I’d hoped to never hear again.
“Jasmine,” my father said. My heart skittered and raced as my eyes darted around to look for my ride.
“I don’t have time to talk to you,” I said as I tried to push past him. He gripped my arm, and I flinched at his touch. Panic began to sneak through me, and I had to force myself to breathe through it.
“Please, Jasmine. I need you to talk to Jude for me,” he cajoled.
My indignation knew no bounds. “You seriously expect him to do anything for you? After everything you put him through? You’re a disgustingly sick individual and I’m embarrassed to call you my father.”
He stepped back as though I’d slapped him. The momentary shock was followed by a hard glint in his eyes. Thankfully, an orange Challenger pulled up, and he quickly walked off, disappearing into the crowded downtown street.
Ghost was around the vehicle and next to me in a flash. “Was that your father?”
“Yes,” I ground out with a curl in my lip. I could see his indecision and rested a hand on his arm. “Not that I wouldn’t have been okay by myself, but he’s long gone. Don’t bother.”
“I don’t fucking like it,” he said, but I shook my head.
“He’s harmless. Did you see him? He’s like a walking skeleton,” I said with false bravery, because that panic was feathering though the edges of my brain.
After a reluctant nod, we got in his car and left. As we drove, he tapped out the beat of the music on the steering wheel, but I could see he was holding something back.
