Page 8 of Dual
I think I'm afraid…
I love Domhn, but what if I'm not what he needs? And she is?
I hurry into the bedroom and then into the large, oversized walk-in closet. But not so I can change. Instead, I get on my knees and crawl toward the very back to pull out several boxes of ridiculous shoes Domhn bought me.
At the bottom of the last box is the journal.
I yank it out to see what she's written. If she's even written,because she's notoriously bad at remembering to write me back.
You know it’s ridiculous to have to hide this journal back here like this. Don’t you trust Domhn? Why not leave it out in the open and trust him not to read your personal thoughts if you ask him not to?
My hands fist. My therapist says it's good to let myself feel anger. And on rare occasions, I do feel anger, or at least frustration, at Mads. But then, she's always goading me, isn't she? She knows it's not that I don't trust Domhn. It's just that anyone faced with the conundrum he is would be tempted to read the journal. And God knows the man loves surveillance. He thought I didn't know he had me under surveillance while I was in Chicago, but his photographers weren't always as slick at blending in as they thought they were. I just didn't mind because then I knew he was thinking of me.
I force myself to read on.
Had a fun night out. You should try it sometime.
I flip the page.
But there's nothing else there. What the fuck? I slam the journal shut.
Then I yank it back open and write furiously with the pen clipped in the spiral.
Please write morenext time. Something obviously happened between you and Domhn last night, and yes, he'll tell me about it, but I wish you would, too! This only works if we trust each other and the process.
Of course, that's part of the problem. She doesn't always care to engage with me and my therapist in the process. Back in Chicago, we worked with Dr. Kim, who was amazing, and now that we're back in Dallas, we're working with Dr. Ezra again. He says to be patient, but I'm shit at patience.
I just want us to be happy. I shove the journal back in the shoe box and the box back at the end of the closet.
Why can't she just let us be happy now?
"Love?"
Domhn suddenly appearing in the doorway holding two coffees has me shrieking and bringing my hand to my heart.
"Fuck, I didn't mean to scare you."
"It's all right," I breathe out, grabbing some jeans I haven't worn in forever off the bottom shelf as a pretense for being on the floor.
I slip off my sleeping shorts and shimmy into the jeans. Domhn watches on, and I laugh at him. But he turns his back as I change my shirt, which makes me frown. Why on earth would he do that?
"I take it that's mine?"
Henods when I sidle up beside him, and he hands me my coffee, made just the way I like it with hazelnut creamer.
I take a sip and peek over the rim. "I love you, you know that?"
A grin lights his face. "I do, but I'll never get tired of you sayin' it, Mrs. Callaghan."
I shake my head with a laugh. "You know that's not official yet."
He takes the mug from me and immediately wraps a hand around my waist to bring me into him, eyes burning as he looks down into mine. "Then when can we make it official? Let's go to the courthouse this morning."
Now I'm really laughing. "I think you're the crazy one. I thought you wanted a big wedding with all the trimmings so our friends can come and dance?"
"Just 'cause it's what you deserve," he growls, "but I might be too impatient for it. Come on, you've got that sparkly dress in the back of the closet. We can take fancy pictures later, and isn't that all brides care about anyway?"
I scoff but look up into his eyes. He's entirely serious.
