Page 67 of The Redemption of Remy St. Claire

“Rusty and I are having problems…well, I’m having a problem…which has become his problem…we…” She faltered, not able to continue, as the heat flaming her cheeks also had a stranglehold on her throat.

“Are these problems related to the bedroom?”

Pressing the heels of her hands to her eyes, she no longer met Kennedy’s perceptive gaze.

“You’ve been married, what, a few days and—not that it’s any of my business—you intimated you haven’t known each other very long. Is it really any surprise there are issues? Intimacy is difficult for most couples—yours even more so, because there are expectations. You’ve committed to a lifetime together, and you have young children. That’s a lot of pressure without sex being an issue, and it’s normal. Many newlyweds take time to figure this out.”

Cringing, she let her hands drop from her face and met the psychologist’s stare. “I had problems before, Kennedy, but I believed I could overcome them with Rusty. He’s so patient and understanding with the girls, I convinced myself it’d extend to me.”

“Is he being impatient? Is he pressuring you?”

Frustration rippled through her as she shook her head. “You misunderstand. He’s phenomenally patient with me—almost too patient. His kindness and gentleness are heartbreaking. I can’t do it, Kennedy. I’m…frigid. He hates the word, and truth be told, so do I, but it’s the only word that describes what I am.”

The psychologist nodded. “This can be an embarrassing subject to tackle. I take it Rusty isn’t the first man you’ve had a problem with.”

“No, he’s not. He’s just one in a line. The thing is, I care about him. I’m attracted to him more than I was the other guys, so why am I reacting the same way?”

“That’s the question, isn’t it? And I think you know the answer.”

I do, but I’m not going there.“I can’t change my past.”

“Of course not, but you can find ways of making sure it doesn’t interfere with your present or your future.” Kennedy glanced at the clock. “Why don’t we meet again? Let me get my appointment book.”

Stumbling to her feet, Remy blindly reached for her coat. “This was a mistake. I should never have said anything.”

The psychologist’s gaze was, again, empathetic. “Until you deal with your past, there’s little chance of fixing this problem. If you won’t talk to me, would you consider a sex therapist? Someone who specializes in this?”

Horror shot through her—an invisible body blow. “I can’t have sex with a total stranger.” Desperation clawed at her.

“Sex therapist, Remy, not sex surrogate. You would just talk—preferably with Rusty present as well.” Kennedy pulled a piece of paper from her filing cabinet. “Here’s a list of books. I’d prefer you come back here, but perhaps this will make you feel more comfortable.”

With shaking hands, she took the paper. She folded it, shoving it into her purse. “Nothing will make me feel more comfortable, Kennedy. I think I’ve made a mistake.”

“By confiding in me?”

“By marrying Rusty.”

“You need to come back and see me. A marriage isn’t dependent on sex, but a healthy relationship involves communication and trust. I take it that these are hard for you?”

Remy nodded, remaining mute.

“Then let me help you with that. Let’s leave sex to the side for now and focus on trust. It’s critical you trust your husband.”

“I do—just not with this.”

“At least that’s something. Make sure he knows.” Kennedy stepped to the door, placing her hand on the knob, but not turning it. “You need to consider telling him about your past.”

“I can’t.” A broken whisper.

“But will you consider coming back?”

She contemplated her answer, letting the silence spin out. Her marriage was on the line, and yet she couldn’t find the words to confirm that she’d be back. That this was something she believed impossible to fix. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s all I can ask.” Kennedy opened the door, and Remy stepped through, greeted by a smiling Rusty and two little girls who played with dolls.

His smile dimmed a bit, replaced by an expression of concern. He stepped closer to her, out of range of the girls’ hearing. “Is it Calleigh?”

Pull it together.“Calleigh’s doing well. I’m sorry, Rusty, I’m just tired.”

---