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Her gorgeous eyes meet mine once again. “Why are you sorry? None of this is your fault.”
She’s wrong. It’s all my fault. If I had been home when those bastards broke into my house, my family would still be intact, and my wife wouldn’t be close to a mental breakdown. If I had gotten my hands on the boys who tortured my family before they were arrested and convicted, they’d be dead, and one of them wouldn’t be walking free. If only I had gotten my hands on Whisper, my wife wouldn’t be in danger.
Instead of acknowledging her statement, I make my own. “There are things we need to talk about, Cat.”
Once again, she avoids my eyes by grabbing the kit from the table and lifting the lid.
“I know,” she finally says quietly, pulling out a roll of gauze and a pair of tweezers. “And we will. Later.” She lifts my hand, unwraps the cloth, and begins carefully plucking the glass from my knuckles.
Later could be minutes from now, but something tells me Cat’s definition of the word in this instance is hours or days. She has an appointment with Dr. Armani this afternoon, so I’ll wait until we get home before I force the conversation we’re both dreading.
ChapterThirty-One
Caterina
“How have the headaches been?” Dr. Armani asks, steepling his fingers as he peers through his square-rimmed glasses at me. Having salt and pepper hair, kind blue eyes, and a slim body, Dr. Armani has always reminded me of my grandfather. It’s why I immediately felt comfortable with him when I started seeing him years ago.
I tuck a piece of hair behind my ear. “About the same.”
“Hmm…” He tips his chin down. “No difference since you found out about Athena, Scarlett, and Presley?”
“Not really.”
It’s my first time seeing Dr. Armani since Hunter told me about the three people I share my mind with. He was surprised when I told him I knew about the other identities, but I also saw approval. Perhaps he thought I wouldn’t be calm knowing about them. Honestly, I’m surprised myself. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop and for me to go into a meltdown. I know I’m toeing the edge of sanity. One slight shift in the wind could blow me off, leaving me spiraling into something unrecognizable.
“That’s good.” He nods again and smiles. His eyes briefly flick to Hunter before returning to me. Hunter doesn’t always join me for sessions, but I asked him to this time. “And the nightmares?”
I hate talking about my nightmares. The horrible sounds they leave in my head are sounds I want to forget.
“Any changes?”
I shift in my seat, suddenly feeling like I’m sitting on jagged rocks. Hunter’s hand, with his thick fingers laced through my slender ones, twitch and tighten in mine.
“My last nightmare was different. I remember more,” I say, my voice small.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I shake my head. “No.”
I haven’t even told Hunter about my most recent nightmare. I keep hoping that if I don’t talk about it, it’ll fade and become another forgotten memory.
“That’s okay. We’re here when you’re ready.”
I nod, grateful he doesn’t push.
“Is there anything else either of you would like to discuss before we call it a day?”
“No,” I respond. Even though Dr. Armani makes me feel relaxed and comfortable, I’m tired after not getting much sleep last night, so I’m ready to leave. Thankfully, my hour is almost over.
“Okay. I’ll see you next month, Cat. Should you need anything before then, you only have to call the office.”
Hunter and I get up from the couch. “Thank you, Dr. Armani.”
“Always a pleasure, my dear.”
We leave, and I breathe a sigh of relief when we walk out into the fresh air.
Hunter pulls on my arm, turning me toward him. My hand is placed on the firm muscle over his heart as he observes me with his green eyes.
