Page 53 of Not About That Life
“Yes.”
I was so lost in my thoughts, I didn’t realize Ian answered in the affirmative. It was a shocking revelation and we both knew it was. “You have?”
“It was really bad when mum died.” He lets out a small sigh and I see regret, anguish and hurt appear across his face. “For two years, I had no idea who I was or what I wanted to be.”
“Wow,” I rest my head into my palm and place my elbow on the table. I’m sure that’s frowned upon but I’m too engrossed in my man to care about what some snobby maître’d thinks. “How did you work through it?”
Ian takes a sip of his wine and briefly looks down before he meets my eyes again. “I still am. I see a therapist once a week.”
WHAT?
I’m screaming inside but I have to remain calm. I had no idea. “Why did you keep that from me?”
He softly shakes his head. “You had your own issues to deal with. I didn’t want to burden you with my bullshit.”
“You going to therapy isn’tbullshit.” I check my anger, though it’s hard. It seems whenever I get to know a little bit of Ian, he pulls the rug from under my feet to stop me from knowing too much. “It’s something we work through together.”
“It’s something I’ve dealt with on my own and I will continue to do so,” his voice is firm, “some things you don’t need to be included in, Domi.”
My stomach bottoms out and I swallow the bile threatening to come up. I understand Ian wanted privacy to work through his issues, but I thought dealing with his mother’s death with a woman he’s supposed to be married to is a couples thing.
This has really become a fucked up day to the extreme. “I’m ready to go back to the hotel now.”
“Domi,” he begins to reach for me and I snatch my hand away, “Please…please don’t do this.”
“You just told me I should work through Daddy issues with people I’m not that familiar with, but when it comes to you and yourbullshit, I need to step the fuck away.” I stand up and grab my clutch. “Since you won’t accompany me, I’ll find my way back.” I leave the restaurant.
I step out into the blistering cold air of New York and forgot my coat is still in coat check. Fuck it. I’m too angry and stubborn to retrieve it. I start walking and hope I won’t get frozen to death because I was feeling salty at my fiancée.
Fiancée. Wow. Even that word is a joke now.
I barely make it to the street light when Ian finally catches up with me with my coat in tow. “Can we talk about this?”
“About what?” I don’t even bother to face him. “You want me in just enough but you don’t want me to explore the rest of the home. I got it. I only need to stay in the living room.”
“Domi,” he grabs me and I pull my arm away, “can we please talk about this?”
I turn to look at his face and see his pleading eyes. I don’t want to talk to him, I really don’t want to be anywhere near Ian right now. But I can’t run away from this fight and still be mad at him when he was making an effort.
Reluctantly, I allow Ian to put the coat on me and lead me back to the hotel room.
