Page 35 of Heart Strings & Hotlines
“How does that make you feel?”
“I thought you weren’t a shrink?”
“I’m not, but that bachelor’s in psychology comes in handy. How does it make you feel knowing that you hurt your sister?”
My body propels to standing with enough energy coursing through it to set the entire room on fire.
“Hot. It makes me hot, and—I can’t breathe properly. My stomach is cramping like I have to take the most painful shit I’ve ever had. Is that what you want to hear?”
“Breathe, Thane.”
I open my mouth to tell him I am fucking breathing, then stop and inhale through my nose. I’ve raised my voice, maybe even shouted, because now my throat is raw.
I’m more like my father than I want to admit.
“That’s guilt you’re experiencing. And shame, and probably a little self-loathing as well.”
Rafe remains as calm as ever, even as I pace the length of the room, unable to stop my fingers from tapping against the ratdog. The beginning of a tension headache is already crawling up my spine.
I’ve lost control of my body again, no matter how hard I fight.
“It’s a normal reaction, especially since you unintentionally hurt someone you care about, but you can make it go away.”
I stop pacing and deliberately drop my tense shoulders, but the energy settles into my hands. I hate the loss of control more than anything.
“How?”
Rafe tilts his head to the side and studies me.
“How?” I nearly growl at him this time.
“You’ve had these feelings and emotions before. How have you alleviated them in the past?” His posture is nothing like mine. Every muscle I move is jerky and aches, where his movements are fluid and steady.
I want that.
Focus, Thane. Relax your body. Count.
“Um.” Shaking my head, I force my narrator—the voice telling me next steps and what to do—to the back of my mind. He never stops, but I’ve gotten good at compartmentalizing him over the years.
“When was the last time you felt this way?”
Does he truly believe that reframing his questions will make them any easier?
“When Kara found out she had to live with me.”
He nods as if he already knew the answer. “And how did you release this energy and these emotions?”
“I gave her a credit card and told her to decorate her room at my house however she wanted.”
“Take a seat.”
God, I hate being told what to do.
I sit.
“Did it work?”
I stare at his face. None of the flashcards tell me what he’s experiencing. I knew they were a waste of time.
