Page 130 of Midnight Confessions

“You’ve done the same for me,” I add.

“Yes, we have become good friends, which is why ethically I cannot be your therapist. But to be crystal clear, it’s my professional opinion that you need one. You have so much to work through, Aleck. The abuse from your birth parents, your relationship with Hayden, that voice that keeps reminding you how undeserving of love you are…”

“Our sessions have helped me a great deal.”

“Okay, but those aren’t real sessions, sweetie, that’s just conversation. A fraction of the therapy I think you need. Almost losing Richard stirred up a lot of shit for you.”

I pull into a spot in front of Rebecca’s building and park. For the first time since we left Preston’s, I rest my muscles and lean back in my seat with a deep sigh.

“I fucked everything up, Bec.”

“Yeah, you did.” She smiles gently. “I’ll ask you again, Aleck… Why didn’t you tell her we aren’t romantic?”

“Because she’s in love with me.”

The words said aloud are like a declaration of the mess I’ve made. A resounding crack of pain hitting both my head and my heart simultaneously. Rebecca stays silent, her eyes piercing through me knowingly.

Pulling my shoulders back, I lift my chin, remaining controlled. “I don’t want to break her heart. She’s hurt now, but if we spend more time together, it will be so much wors—”

“Aleck…” Rebecca holds her hand up to stop me from continuing on the road I was heading down. The road that would have concluded at a dead end of bullshit. “What do you think living without the man she loves will do to her heart? She’s either going to live this life bruised or scarred just like the rest of us. Bruises heal.”

I tighten my jaw and stare ahead.

Rebecca lets out an exasperated breath. “Your mom was a piece of shit, Aleck. Don’t let the lies she told you about yourself become the narration of your life. You’re one of the most capable and impressive men I’ve ever met, so sack the hell up and go get your girl back. That’s your friend talking, not your therapist.”

She leans forward and kisses me on the cheek, then smirks. “Thanks for the awkward night. Talk when you get back from New York?”

“Yeah, I’ll call you when I’m back. Goodnight.” I watch Rebecca get out of my car and walk through the entrance of her building before I start my car and drive toward home.

It would take nothing for me to head in Winter’s direction. The address Trent found is programmed into my phone. I could just… Taking a deep breath, I think better of it, and continue driving to my condo. She needs to cool down and I need to respect her space.

* * *

After workingout until my body could barely stand, then taking a shower, I lie across my bed, staring at the last text Winter sent me.

Winter: Aleck, please call me. Even if I only hear you breathe, I want to know that you’re okay.

I wasn’t okay. I thought my dad was dying. When I left her at the resort, I knew what I had done. I didn’t know where to go from there, how to fix it. I didn’t know how to deal with losing the only father I’ve ever known if his condition worsened, or how to be there for my mom and Hayden. Then there was the firm and contacting specialists, trying to get my dad the best care money could pay for.

I was a mess. But none of it,none of it,felt as damning as leaving Winter in that damn resort without even a word.

Here I am, doing the same thing I’ve done twenty-seven times a day since the moment I left her behind, convincing myself to call her, then convincing myselfnotto call her. My thumb hovers over her name on my phone with more need than it ever has before. If I just tap it and call her—

Glass shattering somewhere in the depths of my condo pulls my body from my bed hastily. Distant shuffling and muffled male voices light a fire under my feet as I stride to my closet and pull out a pair of sweatpants. I pull them over my boxer briefs and grab the baseball bat I’ve propped against the corner of my closet for this very occasion.

This building has incredible security. How an intruder could get this far is beyond me, but whoever he is, whotheyare, they picked the wrong damn door. Letting go of some steam is exactly what I need right now.

Stealthily padding down my hallway, my bare feet barely make a sound.

“Ouch… Fuck…” a male voice grits.

I peek around the corner into the open space of my common areas, both hands gripping the neck of my bat. Across my living room, I see a dark figure hunched over in the entryway, a few feet from my ajar front door. The light from the hallway outside my door slivers into the entryway enough for me to see there’s only one man, but it’s too dark to see more than a silhouette.

I step carefully into the room, bat ready to swing, until I’m right behind the dipshit. I arch my bat back with one hand, then tap the guy on his shoulder with the other. He whips around, the sliver of light shining across his face, freezing my arms mid-swing.

“Hayden?!”

“What the fuck?” he spits, stumbling back.

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