Page 46 of Reclaiming Izabel

“I’m retired,” Gina said. “But I used to work for the agency.”

The woman before me looked like a spinster aunt. An elegant spinster aunt.

Gina spread her hands in a glib gesture. “Unfortunately, marital strife is not my specialty, so I’ll try my best here.”

“I haven’t agreed to talk to you.”

The shrink smiled faintly before picking up her phone and swiping the screen. She put the phone on speaker.

After a few rings, Hank’s voice came on the line. “Our boy crash and burn?”

Gina laughed briefly. “You can say that.”

“I don’t need a shrink,” I declared.

“I agree, but you need someone to explain where Drake is coming from because I doubt he has the tact or words to express himself,” Hank said. “I’ve seen you both go through hell…” He paused. “You tried to move on, Izzy, but I know you. You still love Drake. And, sweetie, he loves you more than anything. You’re feeling betrayed, but don’t deny yourself the chance to see where this can go.”

“Well, hell, I don’t know if I’m needed here,” Gina interjected with amusement.

“Sorry, Doc G.” Hank chuckled. “You get me, Izzy?”

“Goodness,” I exclaimed. “It’s only been four days?—”

He laughed. “It’s Maddox we’re talking about here.”

I had to smile. Yes, Drake wasn’t a very patient man, especially when it came to me. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised at the speed my husband wanted to get back in my life. My foremost reservation was the fear that I would never become the SEAL wife I used to be. I no longer wanted the uncertainty and the sacrifice of being kept in the dark about what my husband was doing.

I’d paid that price. Still, the boundaries or our reconciliation could be up for discussion. But Gina, as Drake’s therapist, couldfill in the blanks and put in perspective what he could never open up about. His vulnerability when he was injured and the guilt that must have consumed him when he faked his death and left me to grieve him.

I sighed in resignation. “Okay.” I looked at Gina. “But if I’m feeling manipulated, we’re done.”

“Told you she was a tough chick.”

“Yes, Maddox schooled me.”

“I’m getting coffee,” I grumbled. “Talk to you soon, Hank.” I headed for the coffee machine and wondered what I had agreed to. There was comfort knowing Hank was onboard with Gina getting involved, but it didn’t mean it had gotten rid of my reservations.

Stirring milk into my coffee, I turned and leaned against the counter and locked eyes with Gina. “Just so you know, I’ve had enough therapy and grief counseling to last me a lifetime. They built me back up to what I am now. I’m not perfect. I have my scars. I’m not going to stand for one of those sessions where you break me down in order to build me up.”

“I’m not in psy-ops,” Gina said, amused. “I don’t handle the brainwashing part.”

There’s a brainwashing part?

Gina turned in her seat to face me. She crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair. “I’m not really certain that division exists. My job at the agency is to ensure the effectiveness of an asset.”

“At all costs, I presume.”

Gina couldn’t miss the sarcasm in my voice. “Yes. But we’re not here to talk about me.”

“Let’s get this over with.”

“All right.” The other woman leaned forward. “Tell me about your mother.”

The morning passed,but Gina had not once asked about Drake. Over a breakfast of croissants and coffee, I told her about my mother, Carmen Rodriguez. I had fond memories of Ma.

“She had a flair for styling hair and applying makeup,” I said proudly. “She was in demand for weddings and photo shoots.”

“She never thought to open her own salon?”

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