Page 226 of Unexpected Heroine

“When your boyfriend took care of you, as you said, did he put anything inside you? Fingers? Toys? Or was it all clitoral stimulation?”

“That last thing.”

So mature, Lettie.

“You were able to achieve orgasm those times, right?”

“Yes.”

Kill me now.

“Have you masturbated other times to completion?”

“Yes.”

I hate this. Seriously, kill me.

“Was the other night the first time you put something inside since your trauma? Even your fingers? Tampon?”

Note to self: look up how to take out a hit on yourself if this conversation goes on much longer.

With my eyes closed, I nod slowly, letting the pungent fog of shame surround me. Hopefully, it’s thick enough to hide me from her view.

On the off chance it’s not, I cup my hand over my eyes while I wait for her to speak.

“Lettie, sex is a normal part of life. Given your upbringing and recent events, it’s perfectly understandable how you’re embarrassed to talk about this. You’re doing great, though. I know it’s hard.”

Yeah, I can’t resist that setup.

“That’s what she said,” I mutter into my hands, unable to stop my lips from flapping.

Simone laughs. Actually laughs.

Full-on, gut-busting, loud, and joyous guffaws. I can’t help but join her.

When she finally collects herself, she says, “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I found that so funny. It’s a terribly played-out joke, but I don’t think I’ve ever heard it in a therapy session before.”

“That’s me. Making therapy oddly humorous since...” My sentence turns into a hum while I think. “Well, since three days ago.”

“You’re too funny.” Her grin slowly fades with a steadying breath. “Well, like I was saying. You’re doing great talking about uncomfortable things. Now, let’s focus on the issue at hand.”

“Excellent. Fix me, please.”

Her head sags toward one shoulder, and she rolls out her lower lip. “You’re not broken.”

I wave her off. “Figure of speech.”

Sort of.

For several minutes, she talks while I listen. Unlike the group therapy session, I’m able to focus. For the most part. When she’s done explaining about triggers and how we can work to identify them and overcome them, she asks something that makes my jaw drop.

“Prior to your recent trauma, did you ever climax from penetrative sex?”

My nose wrinkles, and I blink approximately five-hundred and seventy-two times. “Yes. Why?”

“Not all women do. In fact, most women don’t.”

Gasp. What? Why? How is the planet overpopulated?

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