“They are strong-willed men and women. I really enjoy serving with them.”
“How would you describe your relationship with your colleagues?”
“Professional.” He cocked his head, curious. “You seem disappointed. Is this a problem?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s just that some people enjoy spending some of their free time with co-workers to establish or strengthen friendships. At a happy hour, for example. Or at picnics or dinners.”
“I don’t associate those activities with work.”
Interesting. “According to your records, you applied to David Bellotti’s team three times before this one, and each time you were denied that application. Why?”
Had I blinked I would have missed the brief emotion that passed over Galen’s face. At first I thought it was anger and then realized it was disgust. His eyes hardened to near black, giving me a glimmer of the darker, lethal side of him that had probably earned him his accolades. And that might have earned David’s mistrust as well.
“Why do you think you’ve been rejected to join David Bellotti’s team so often?”
“Let me make something clear,” Galen said, leaning close enough so that one of his legs pressed against mine. “I have only the utmost respect for Bellotti. He is the best at what he does at PROs and I wouldn’t be here if it was not for him.”
I pulled back, trying to ignore the body heat radiating between us. “Are you saying that David Bellotti was not responsible for your rejected applications?”
His eyes searched mine, intent on finding something or maybe even seeing something in particular, but when he realized what he wanted wasn’t there he pulled away. “I cannot answer your question, Doctor Morgan. Maybe you should ask Bellotti instead.”
I decided that I would.
The clock showed that we had a few minutes left but I wasn’t sure how to best use the rest of our time. Galen’s mood had morphed into something calculating and isolated, and I felt cut off from him in a way I couldn’t explain.
I also knew I didn’t like it.
Galen stood and took a few steps toward the door. “I believe our time is nearly over,” he said. “I think that I should go.”
“We still have five more minutes.”
“Doctor Morgan, do you really believe you will accomplish what you need in only a few more minutes?”
It was a challenge and an invitation I’d already considered, and I accepted both. “I’d like to arrange for another two or three sessions, if you’re agreeable,” I said, knowing the news wouldn’t go over well with David. He would be expecting a full report and probably within the next couple of days.
“I would like that very much,” Galen said, and his rich, melodious voice reached out and touched me like a lover’s skilled hand. Any previous discomfort I felt was long forgotten. I only knew I wanted to hear him speak again. “Should I make the appointments with you?”
“See Alicia at the front desk,” I said, escorting him to the door. “She’ll handle everything.”
“Thank you, Doctor Morgan. I appreciate your courtesy and your time.” He took one of my hands and held it in both of his. His touch was warm and firm. And very, very familiar.
I remembered standing with him in brilliant afternoon light that reflected off a limestone-pillared courtyard. In the distance, birds with bright red tails flew overhead, canvassing the river for their next meal.
I took a step in retreat, angry that my jeweled, leather sandal had broken.
“You are worried we will be seen together,” he had said, bending over to remove the sandal from my foot to fix it.
I pulled away from him and took another step in retreat. “Please stop that.”
He straightened, looking genuinely confused. “Stop what?”
“Your voice,” I said. “It affects me.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
I looked at the red-tailed birds, hoping they could help me find a better answer. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I belong to another man.”
“I can change that if I wanted.”
I opened my mouth, ready to disagree, but once again, his voice wrapped me in a delectable sweat that I felt powerless to ignore, and the fire inside me ignited into something more potent.
I offered an abrupt goodbye and as I walked down the other side of the hill, I felt the pull of him at my back. The sensation stayed with me with each step I took, and as I descended the hill only one thought filled my mind.
I needed to keep my distance from that man.
I felt warm soft lips on the back of my hand and I stared in wonder at the top of Galen’s bent head. His fingers slid from my hand but the feel of his lips remained, and as I watched him turn away and walk down the hall to the front desk, I knew one thing for certain. Galen was the man from my memory. I saw it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, felt it in his touch. And I had a strong feeling that he knew it, too.
I realized that keeping contact with Galen, even on just a professional level, was going to be dangerous. I also realized that I would have to tell David.
And I was dreading it.
Chapter Fourteen
I barreled through the garage door and into the kitchen, dropped my handbag on the counter, and headed straight for the wine rack. I rummaged through a drawer for the corkscrew, found a wine glass, opened a bottle of Merlot, and poured without any consideration for neatness or desire to let the wine breathe.
David stood by the stove, stirring something in a deep pan, watching me while Saving Abel filtered through the speakers in the background. He said nothing, probably because he’d been able to judge my mood, and I was grateful for it. I wasn’t ready to talk to him about Galen yet, and the only way I’d get there was if I took the edge off first.
I took a few sips, trying to relieve the stress and relax my mind because I’d been unable to concentrate on anyone other than Galen for the entire day. He’d taken over my psyche to the point of compulsion, and I knew I’d done my clients a disservice because I didn’t give them my full attention. I’d been professional enough for their sessions, but only barely.
I gritted my teeth and squeezed my eyes shut, trying to erase the mental image of Galen, of us, and couldn’t do it. The memories kept coming at me, over and over again, and I was nearly out of my mind when I decided dainty sips weren’t doing the trick. I downed the rest of the glass in three gulps while David kept watching.
He dropped a large spoon on the counter, wiped his hands on a towel and turned his full attention on me. “What happened?”
“Not now, David.”
I poured a second glass of wine and dove into that one, too.
David had the good sense not to pursue the discussion further but I knew the courtesy wouldn’t last forever. Even people who were psychologically strongest couldn’t fight curiosity’s temptation forever.
A large pan rattled on the stove and started to smoke, and by the time David realized what was happening, dinner had turned charred and black. With a curse, he grabbed the pan, shut off the gas and stood by the burner, assessing the damage.
“Sorry dinner got ruined,” I said, walking toward the slider. “We can clean it up together later on.” Though whatever he’d been making — and it looked like spiced sausage, tomatoes and peppers — had been a heavy loss. David was the best cook I knew.
Outside, I settled into a chaise lounge and stared up at the stars. It was an unusually bright night, free of clouds and the pollution that normally dulled what was now a brilliant, diamond-dotted sky.
The slider opened and closed, and David walked over and joined me. “Just answer me one question and I’ll let this go,” he said, taking the chaise next to mine. “Did anything happen today that I should know about? Anything that endangered your life?”
“No,” I said, and David nodded, satisfied with the answer.
He poured a glass of wine for himself and showed me the half-empty bottle as well as a second h
e’d brought along as backup, an implicit promise that both were ready for when I wanted more. We sat in silence, drinking and watching the heavens, and I let myself be carried away by the constellations and planets that seemed so close and yet so far away. I thought about their names and how they may have gotten them, and the rituals our ancestors had used to appease them in their beliefs that they were gods. By the time the second bottle was nearly empty almost two hours later, my anxiety had been dulled enough for me to talk.
“David?” I turned my head and saw him stretched out on the chaise with his hands clasped behind his head and his eyes closed. “Are you asleep?”
“Nope.” His eyes opened and he fixed them firmly on mine, and even in the darkness, their green color appeared unnaturally bright. They were the one physical feature of David’s that always took my breath away, but even more so now because of how they reflected the bright moon and stars.
“I need to talk to you about something.”
He didn’t move but I knew that I had his attention because his face showed wariness, and for good reason. I never prefaced any conversation unless it was going to be a difficult one.
“Okay,” he said.
I sat up and faced him. “I want to tell you about what happened today, but I need two things from you first.”
His eyes narrowed, and then he adjusted his chaise so that he could sit upright, too. “Okay.”
“First,” I said, “I need you to have an open mind.”
He stilled as if he’d been held in suspended animation, and for a moment I wondered if he had stopped breathing. “Okay.”
It was the same response for the third time and I wondered if I was getting through. “I’m serious, David.”
He gave me a long look. “So am I.”
“Okay. Well, that’s good.” I thought about how to ask the second request without setting him off but when I realized that there was no delicate way around it, I decided to jump right into it. “The other thing is this. In order for me to be able to explain what happened, I’ll need Paul here to do it. I need the three of us together.”
David pushed out of the chair and started collecting the bottles and glasses, ignoring my request and letting me know I shouldn’t have even bothered to try. I didn’t like being shoved aside in that way and I was going to let him know it.
“You have to let go of this sometime.” The two glasses clinked sharply in his hands and I cringed, worried they would break under his reckless care. “It’s not healthy for you or for us to carry emotional baggage that doesn’t have anything to do with where we are now as a couple.”
“This isn’t emotional baggage,” he snapped, angry now and making sure I knew it. “You cheated on me with this man, and you want to invite him into our home? Not going to happen, Lottie.” He walked toward the slider, making it clear that the conversation was done.
I got up and followed. He wasn’t going to run away, damn it. Not this time. “We were separated when that happened. It wasn’t cheating.”
“Really?” He turned on me and what stared back in that darkened yard made me pause and then shudder. This was the side of David that I never saw; the side that was dangerous and deadly and that did things I didn’t want to know about. “I don’t recall ever breaking it off with you at that time. We never said the words and we never made that decision.”
“But we weren’t together either,” I reminded him. “For months and months things weren’t going well for us. And for a long time we didn’t even see each other.”
David closed the distance between us, all fired up and ready to fight. “So that means that if we hit a bad spot in our relationship right now, I can go out and sleep with whoever I want?”
I staggered back, thrown off balance by the verbal blow. “Things are different now,” I said. “We’ve grown stronger. We’re not the same couple we were back then.”
But even as I reasoned with him, I knew I wasn’t getting through. As much as Paul had become a dear friend of mine over time, he would remain the one unresolved issue between David and me. And judging by the look on David’s face, I had a feeling it would always stay that way.
“You have to believe me, David. I need this. I need the three of us together because — ”
“Find another psychiatrist. Use the one from PROs that I use. But not Paul. It’s not going to happen.” He turned and went for the door.
“This isn’t fair,” I said. “You’re forcing me into a situation you don’t want me to be in and that you’re not prepared to handle.”
My warning stopped David mid-stride.
“Don’t push me into making a decision that could ruin us, David. This isn’t about ego or who’s right or who’s wrong. This is about us.” I paused. “And my mental health.”
He turned only his head, showing me a hardened, shadowed profile. And in that short moment, where nothing moved and time seemed to stand still, I realized I might have my only chance of finding a compromise.
“Please, David. Please do this for me.” My request sounded desperate even to me, and I realized I’d started to cry. “I couldn’t stand losing you again and you have to know that I wouldn’t do anything to risk that. But you have to work with me here. Paul can help me find answers that no one else can. You have to believe me. I wouldn’t ask otherwise.”
For a long while, we both stood in silence, and eventually David’s tense and rigid posture softened. After what felt like an eternity, he put the bottles and glasses on the patio, pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket and handed it over to me.
“Call Paul and have him come over tonight.”
He took the glassware and went inside without another word.
Chapter Fifteen
David and I didn’t speak while we waited for Paul and I knew why. David needed space and I was more than willing to give it to him. In my mind, he’d taken a huge emotional step with Paul, but I didn’t view it as his complete acceptance of the man either. It was just David’s way of trying to do the right thing.
When the doorbell rang, David ushered Paul inside while I remained on the couch and out of the way. I had no doubt that the alpha male in David would strike if given even the smallest chance, but I also had no doubt that Paul would fight back. I just didn’t want to get in the middle if it happened.
Both men entered the den in silence, and Paul remained standing just inside the room as David sat down beside me. I watched Paul, feeling a little sorry for him. Not only had I dragged him to my house at almost eleven at night, I’d drawn him into a potentially volatile situation that would once again remind him that he wasn’t the man I’d ultimately chosen.
I smiled at him, more than grateful for what he’d done now and in the past. “Thank you for coming here,” I said. “I know it’s very late.”
Paul’s gaze volleyed between David and me. He was on alert and, it seemed, figuring the quickest route out of the house if he needed it. “It’s okay. It sounded important.”
His hesitation hummed through me. “It’s definitely important and you’re the only person who can help.”
Paul’s eyes shifted to David again, gauging his mood and, like me, probably wondering what was lurking behind his quiet demeanor. “What happened?” he asked.
“You remember the conversation you and I had about memories?”
Paul nodded.
“I had another one today that I need to talk about.”
“What memories?” David asked.
“I’ll explain in a minute,” I told him.
Paul folded his arms over his chest and didn’t budge from the doorway. Though he stood motionless, I could see the strain of tension in his body. He was annoyed that I didn’t tell him that David was home, and he now knew that I had kept the information from him on purpose. We both knew he wouldn’t have come otherwise.
I gestured to the leather chairs but Paul didn’t sit.
“I met with a new client this morning and I think I know him from somewhere.”
/> “Galen?” David asked.
I nodded.
“Conflict of interest?” Paul asked.
“I’m not sure.”
“How do you know him?” David asked.
I hesitated because the explanation wasn’t going to be easy. “It’s a long story.”
Paul tilted his head in a gesture I knew well. He’d already made the connection. “Galen is a piece of the memories you told me about.”
“Exactly.”
“What memories?” David repeated.
When I turned to David, I carefully considered my words. I didn’t want to patronize him but I didn’t want him to misunderstand either.
“These episodes I’ve been having over the past few days aren’t episodes at all, David. They’re memories and — ”
“How many have you had, Lottie?”
“Several.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I didn’t know how to explain what I couldn’t figure out for myself. I needed the time to understand and now I realize that Galen is a key.”
“How can you know Galen or have a memory of him but not remember who he was when you studied his file?”
I shifted on the sofa, uncomfortable, because he’d verbalized a question that nagged at me all day. “That’s why I asked Paul here. Galen’s a trigger and an integral part of these memories. I know him, or knew him, but I can’t figure out how.”
“A repressed memory?” Paul asked.
“It doesn’t feel like one.” I sorted through the dozens of thoughts and images I’d already associated with Galen, but none of them came together in any sort of coherent way. “When I met Galen this morning, we shook hands and when we made contact, I had a very vivid, very strong memory. The strongest out of any of them.”
“Has Galen been a part of all of the memories?”
“It doesn’t seem like it but I’m not completely sure. I didn’t realize it at first because I couldn’t place the face until today. But I still can’t place the time.” I shrugged. “I can only say that the memories feel old.”
In This Life Page 9