Page 39 of Absinthe Dreams
"At you?Never," I rasp. "It isn't your fault. You didn't ask for that prick to treat you like you were there for his pleasure just because you existed in the same office as him, Chloe. You didn't ask for him to send any of the shit he texted you. And you don't deserve to feel a single goddamn iota of guilt for protecting yourself and his wife because of his actions. You have nothing to answer for, nothing to apologize for, and absolutely no responsibility here, okay?"
She chews on her bottom lip before nodding. "I guess I just feel…bad. Like it's my fault Donny ruined his wife's life and his friendship with my dad."
"It isn't your fault."
"I know," she whispers. "Rationally, I know that. I guess it's just going to take a little while to sink in fully."
"Take the time," I murmur, getting it. Guilt isn't always rational. It whispers in the darkest parts of our minds, taking root, and refusing to remain silent. But that doesn't make it ours to carry. "Maybe it'd help if you talk to someone."
"A therapist?"
"If you want." I try not to push, but it isn't the worst idea I've heard. She could probably use a professional to help her work through her feelings and put them in order. You don't even have to know her like I do to know she's all over the place with them right now.
Who could blame her?
Women deal with shit like this all the time. That doesn't mean it should be normalized or brushed off as just the way the world works. Fuck that. It isn't the way the world works unless you're a prick like her ex-boss. And it damn sure won't be the wayherworld works, with shit like this piling up like wreckage in her psyche, making her doubt herself.
She's allowed to be exactly who she is and take up every inch of space she wants to take up without anyone making her feel like she needs to shrink herself to stay safe. Hell will freeze over before I let that happen.
But I don't push her, either. I just hold her, letting her decide for herself how she wants to move forward.
"Maybe I'll do that," she finally says, softly. And I breathe a sigh of relief.
"That's good, baby. That's real good." I press my lips to her temple.
"What else did you guys talk about?" she asks after a moment, settling against my chest again.
"Nothing much."
"Oh."
"I thought you might kick my ass if I told him that we fucked like rabbits yesterday."
"Trystan!" She smacks me across the shoulder. "You better not."
I smirk down at her, amused. "Didn't plan on it, baby. I like my balls attached, and I know your dad well enough to know he'd rip them off if I said some shit like that to him."
"So what did you guys talk about?" she presses.
"Nothing much," I murmur, teasing. "I told him that I had you tied to my bed and planned to keep you there. He told me no takebacks."
"Trystan!" she growls like a feral cat, making me laugh. And then she carefully sets my mug down and tries to get her hands around my throat to strangle me.
"Easy, Coco." I capture her hands in mine, holding her hostage against my chest with a laugh. "I didn't tell him anything."
"Really?" She stops fighting to get free and looks up at me. "Nothing?"
"Nothing," I confirm.
"Oh."
Well, shit. That's definitely disappointment in her voice.
"I wanted to tell him," I murmur, pulling her fist to my lips to brush a kiss across her knuckles. "But I figured I should wait."
She swallows. "That's probably a good idea."
"Is it what you want?" I ask, point-blank.
