Page 49 of The Therapist

I swallow hard. “Aubry…”

“She’s right,” Nora interrupts. Her gaze is steady, but there’s something warm in it. Understanding. “If you love him, if you’re even considering this, then you have to set boundaries. He cannot—cannot—watch people in private spaces anymore.”

My breath catches. “That’s who he is.”

“No,” Eve interjects, shaking her head. “That’s what he chooses to be. And he can choose to stop.” Her expression hardens, but there’s no cruelty in it. “If he can’t, then he doesn’t get you. He said as much right here.” She jabs the papers. “‘In a perfect world, I would have understood that what we had, what we participated in, was enough to satisfy me. I would have stopped watching at the inn. I would have boarded up the faux louvers and washed my hands of it. What we had, what we did, satisfied me.’”

The words hit me deep, striking something fragile inside me.

Aubry leans forward, elbows on her knees. “Robin, you have to be enough. If this is going to work—if you’re ever going to have a real chance—he has to want you more than he wants his obsession.”

I open my mouth to argue, to tell them it’s not that simple, not for addicts. I rub my temples. “You’re all assuming he even wants to hear from me.”

Eve snorts. “He sent you a letter, Robin. He wouldn’t have done that if he didn’t want a response.”

I exhale shakily, looking between them. “And if I write to him, and he says no? That he can’t promise me that?”

Nora’s voice is gentle but firm. “Then you walk away.”

I nod slowly, letting the weight of it settle in. “Four years and six months.” The words taste strange on my tongue.

A long time. A short time. A lifetime.

Nora reaches for my hand, squeezing it. “We’re with you. No matter what.”

Eve smirks. “Yeah, even if we think you’re out of your damn mind.”

I huff out a breath, half a laugh, half a sob. “Thanks.”

Aubry grins. “Now, let’s get you some nice stationery. If you’re going to send a letter to your criminally attractive, emotionally unavailable ex, you cannot do it on lined notebook paper.”

I shake my head, but a small smile finds its way to my lips. I should have known that these women would understand.

Nora had fallen in love with a monster and survived it only to fall in love with his brother, who not only understood her need for a different kind of romance but thrived in providing it.

Aubry, with Mike, who saved her from being trafficked. Eve, who not only survived Nora’s monster but escaped and who never gave up on finding her little sister that she’d had to leave behind.

They’re exactly the women who would understand and see past societal norms and conventions and social graces.

“Okay. But I’m most certainly not writing it with you all here.”

Twenty Four

Past

Two weeks.

Two weeks of silence.

Two weeks of trying to erase him, trying to breathe without him. But the loneliness sits in my chest like a stone, pressing harder and harder until I can’t bear it anymore.

My hand shakes as I press the phone to my ear.

The line rings once.

Twice.

And then—

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