Page 45 of Misery and Ecstasy

Mom has moved on from her guilt trip and returned to the topic of the shirt she saw at the store that she thought I would like.

Giving in, I open my text messages.

Draven:

Maggie and Delilah just got into it. Royce and I were able to break them up before any punches were thrown, but they’re both really upset. Maggie is almost inconsolable. Is there anything you can do for them? Can you come over?

I roll my eyes. My first thought is this club may be needier than my mother.

My second thought—as unwanted as it is—is that somewhere deep inside of me, I wanted Draven’s message to be about us.

Us.

There is nous.

Okay, maybe notus,but about what happened. If I’m being honest, my veiled suggestion that he leave yesterday was received very well by him. Maybe a little too well.

My head and my lady bits definitely need to find some middle ground.

The back-and-forth tilt-a-whirl of emotions I’ve felt the past four days is almost unbearable. I may need to take a day to psychoanalyze myself to get to the bottom of it all and unearth the true meaning behind my wishy-washy feelings.

But it has been a minute since I’ve heard from Delilah. I’ve been assuming she’s okay—and not having to report to the compound regularly any longer has led me to a position of complacency. But if things are nearing the point of violence, maybe she’s been hiding from both me and the truth.

Plus, you would get to see Draven again.

God, I hate myself sometimes.

“Hey, Mom. I’m so sorry to cut you off, but I just got a message about a patient in crisis.”

“Oh.” Her voice is thick with both bitterness and rejection that I’mchoosingsomeone else over her. “Well, okay, honey. It was nice catching up with you. I guess I’ll talk to you next Tuesday.”

“I love you, Mom.” As I always do, I ignore the guilt trip dripping in her tone.

“Love you, too.”

Ending the call, I send a quick message to Draven, letting him know I will be there in twenty minutes.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

DRAVEN

Despite the chaos that just ensued in the clubhouse and the fact that I had to hold Maggie back from pulverizing Delilah, a gentle smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, knowing I’m going to be seeing the doc.

She texted me yesterday with my next appointment, which isn’t until Thursday evening. I’m not looking forward to another one-sided Q&A with her, but at least she’s not bad to look at.

I figured a little harmless flirting will help pass the time. And I’m certainly not mad about getting more guilt-free spank-bank fuel.

I’ve gone over everything that happened yesterday multiple times, and I can’t make heads or tails of why I’m still not overcome with the guilt that shadowed every moment I was fucking Eva.

And nearly every other moment in between.

Was the doc right? Did I not feel guilty with her because there were no fake feelings involved?

What about real feelings?

Once I got back here yesterday, I waited for it to creep out of my soul and wrap its cold, decaying arms around me. I thought distractions from Atticus and the repairs to my bike were what kept it away, but even last night as I laid in bed…

It never came for me.

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