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“Trauma is trauma. She and I could have undergone the same exact situation and still processed it differently. Sharing our reactions to it, however, can lead to bonding and a deeper sense of identity, knowing someone understands. It can also help us work through our emotions and find a level of peace we can’t on our own. In a nutshell, you want me to be her support group.”
Amelia made a surprised sound, staring at him with disbelief.
Vivi nodded. “And how doesthatmake you feel, Mr. Expert?”
He grinned. “Empowered. I lived through hell and came back from it. Now I can help her sort through her experiences.”
Amelia turned wide eyes to her. “Is that true?”
She raised her hands in a surrender gesture. “You found me out. Please”—she motioned for him to go on—“continue. I think it would be effective for Amelia to hear about an experience when you were a SEAL, or perhaps one of your ghost missions.”
“You don’t want him to talk about when he was shot?” she asked.
“No. I want him to talk about what it feels like to be a hero, and I want you to listen closely. That’s our endgame, in case you haven’t guessed, Batman. I want you both to feel like the heroes you are.”
Rory settled in, seemingly eager to comply for once. “She’s right, Amelia. You had no training and yet you solved your dad’s murder and busted up an international kidnapping and theft ring.”
“Me?” She snorted. “I popped a guy with a crutch. You went all Jason Bourne and took out half of them all by yourself.”
“You didn’t let the attack in the alley stop you from getting to the truth. Takes a brave person to face their fears like that,” he countered.
“And you went to an event that triggered your PTSD and still managed to stand up to yours.”
“Show me your scars and I’ll show you mine,” Rory egged her on.
Amelia narrowed her eyes. “Challenge accepted, but I get to hear the story behind each and every one of yours.”
Vivi grinned to herself. These two were so good for each other.
“No can do. Most of them are classified,” Rory said.
“Bullshit.” Amelia peeked at Vivi for confirmation, or maybe her look was a plea for backup. Hard to tell. Could be both. “You’re afraid to tell me the truth about your past.” She reached forward and placed a hand on his raised foot. “I can handle it. I won’t judge you. Ever.”
He caved at the sincerity on her face, leaning forward to meet her across the expanse. One of his much larger hands landed on top of hers. “I know you won’t.”
“But…?”
A heavy sigh left his lips. “I’ve never spoken of my ghost work. To anybody.”
Vivi was shocked. She hated to interrupt them but had to know, “Not even an Agency therapist?”
A shake of his head. “I gave reports and even those were…brief. The bosses gave me assignments and all they wanted was confirmation the mission was done. No details.”
The amount of shit he carried staggered her imagination. “If you everdowant to talk about them—”
“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate the offer. I do, but”—he squeezed Amelia’s hand—“if I decide to, we’ve got it covered.”
Maybe hewouldopen up to her, tell her about the missions behind his scars.
Amelia pushed out of her chair onto her feet. Vivi tensed and started to warn her not to hurt herself, but Rory steadied her. “You’re damn right you’ve got it covered. Your secrets are safe with me. I love you, Rory Tephra.”
He gently tugged her down to sit in his lap. “I love you, Amelia Thorpe.” She tucked her head onto his shoulder and the two of them fell silent, lost in each other.
Vivi thought of a hundred things to say, to keep their communication open and their therapy session going, but none of her words, nor their admissions, could do what a simple, quiet understanding could. The touch of another human being who’d survived a trial along with you. The knowingness that came from connecting with somebody who loved you deeply.
And then, of course, they had to go and make it awkward, whispering to each other, back and forth, back and forth, her only catching a word here and there. Rory’s husky chuckle let her know what was on their minds right before he kissed Amelia.
Annnnd…this session is over. She made a note on her tablet and fiddled with a few things on her desk, waiting for the kiss to end.
