Trust

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Trust Page 30

by Sherri Hayes


  “You don’t want him here?”

  “That’s not what I said. Besides, what I want isn’t what’s in question. It’s what you want, Anna. Only you, not me, and not Stephan.”

  “I don’t have any secrets from Stephan.”

  She relaxed her shoulders, and this time her smile seemed genuine. “Okay. I’ll go get him.”

  It took longer than I expected for her to return with Stephan in tow. I smiled at him as he took a seat beside me on the couch and threaded his fingers with mine. What had taken so long, and why was Stephan holding himself so rigid? I was always nervous when I came to talk with Dr. Perkins, and I wondered if it was the same for him.

  Dr. Perkins had never hurt me in any way, but I never knew what emotions I’d have to deal with while I was there. Today was different. Stephan was here with me. He’d take care of me no matter what happened like he always did. We’d be there for each other.

  I snuggled closer to Stephan. He wasn’t relaxing, though, which I didn’t understand. Did something happen? Glancing between the two, I could feel the tension radiating off them both.

  Deciding I didn’t care if it was appropriate or not, I climbed onto Stephan’s lap and held him. His arms circled around me, and I felt his chest rise and fall beneath me as he started to relax.

  He kissed my forehead. “Thank you.”

  I nodded. “Is something wrong? Did something happen?”

  Stephan glanced up at Dr. Perkins, and I noticed they exchanged a look before he refocused his gaze on me. “It seems your therapist was worried about our relationship.” He caressed the side of my face lovingly. “She wanted to make sure I wasn’t taking advantage of you.”

  “But you’re not!” It was my turn to go rigid.

  Dr. Perkins settled back into her chair and picked up her notepad. “I needed to make sure that you weren’t being pressured in any way. This is meant to be a safe space, and you have choices here, Anna.”

  Stephan stiffened beside me, and my heart picked up its pace.

  “Brianna always has choices, Doctor. I told you I make sure of that.” He must have sensed my anxiety over the exchange and began rubbing his thumb back and forth along my index finger. It helped, but I remained fearful of what might have happened out in the lobby between the two. After another tense minute, he leaned over and whispered in my ear. “Take a deep breath and relax. Everything’s fine.”

  I took a deep breath as he instructed, and it did make me feel better.

  He squeezed my hand and smiled, letting me know he was pleased.

  “You two seem to be very in tune with each other.” She paused. “That can be a good thing, as long as one doesn’t overwhelm the other.”

  I heard what she was saying, but I was paying attention to Stephan. He was still anxious, so I rested my head on his shoulder and began playing with the buttons on his shirt like I always did. Almost as if without thinking, he rested his head against mine as the rhythm of our breathing became in sync with the other’s. This often happened when we were in his chair, and I loved it. It was almost as if his taking a breath prompted my own.

  No one spoke for several minutes as all I could hear was the inhale and exhale of our breath and the beating of his heart. We both needed this moment.

  This time when Dr. Perkins spoke, it was in a much softer tone, the same one she usually used with me. “How does it come into play when you deal with conflict?”

  “What do you mean?” Stephan’s defenses were up again, so I did my best to calm him.

  “All relationships have conflict from time to time. From my observations, Anna is extremely nonaggressive. I’m wondering how that plays out during any disagreements the two of you have.”

  “Are you asking if I force her to do what I want and negate any feelings she would have on the matter?” He didn’t raise his voice, but I could hear his anger boiling just beneath the surface.

  “That’s not what I said, nor is it what I meant. I’m merely asking how the two of you deal with things when you don’t see eye to eye.”

  When Stephan didn’t respond to her question, Dr. Perkins turned to me. “Maybe you’d like to answer, Anna. Would you like to share an instance when the two of you have encountered a conflict . . . had a fight as it were . . . and how you resolved it?”

  “Um. I don’t know.”

  Dr. Perkins wasn’t satisfied with that answer. I should have known better. “What about when you thought Stephan lied to you? You obviously resolved it somehow?”

  “We talked?” I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to say.

  “What did you talk about? Did he come to you, or did you go to him? Was there a compromise?”

  I glanced over at Stephan. He looked relaxed enough with the exception of his mouth. It was too stern, so I knew he was wound tighter than he appeared. He didn’t like therapists. I figured it had something to do with his parents’ death given what little he’d told me and what I’d overheard. That was all I knew, though. “He came to see me, but I wouldn’t talk to him. Then he sent me e-mails. I didn’t read them right away, but when I did, I went to see him.”

  “And you talked?”

  “Yes. He explained. And apologized.”

  “Ah. A man who knows when to say he’s sorry.” She gave Stephan a small smile.

  Stephan tightened his hold on my hand. “A person who cannot apologize for their mistakes is a fool.”

  “Very wise observation.” Dr. Perkins jotted something down. I was always curious what she was writing when she did that, but I never asked.

  He snorted.

  “Something the matter?” Dr. Perkins lifted one eyebrow in question.

  Stephan sat up straighter in his seat. “I thought this was supposed to be about Brianna, not our relationship. You’ve not once asked her a question about her past, or how she’s dealing with her flashbacks. When exactly will you be getting around to that?”

  “Your relationship with Anna is just as important, if not more so, than what has happened to her in the past. She needs to be in a stable environment that supports her emotionally and is healthy. How the two of you deal with conflict is essential. Abuse survivors tend to shy away from conflict. They often don’t stand up for themselves as they should and too often end up in another abusive situation.”

  Instead of answering her right away, Stephan took several keep breaths and began running his hand up and down my arm. I relaxed into him.

  Stephan brushed the hair away from my face and placed a soft kiss on my temple. “You asked how we resolve conflict. This is how.”

  “By you holding her?”

  “She calms me, and I do the same for her. Every night we sit in a chair in my living room, her on my lap, and we talk.”

  No words were spoken for several minutes. When the silence was eventually broken, though, it was by Dr. Perkins. She cleared her throat, and we both turned to look in her direction.

  “The change in both of your body language . . . it’s remarkable.” Her eyes were wide and observant. A part of me wondered what exactly she was seeing besides me sitting on Stephan’s lap. Her reaction made it seem as if there were more to it than that.

  “When you’re like this . . .” Dr. Perkins motioned toward us with her hand. “What do you talk about?”

  “Everything. There are no secrets between us.”

  Dr. Perkins considered this for a moment. “You failed to tell her about the woman you had living with you.”

  “A mistake on my part. I’d wanted to tell her in person, and our face-to-face contact was limited at the time. That won’t happen again.”

  “And how do you propose to accomplish that?”

  “Simple. I won’t allow it.”

  She pursed her lips. “That’s a rather controlling attitude.”

  He shrugged.

  I reached up to touch the side of his face. He met my gaze, and I saw the distance in his eyes melt away.

  He kissed my forehead.

  Dr. Perkins cleared
her throat, and we both looked in her direction, the intimate moment gone. “Well. I don’t know what to say.”

  “An apology would be good start.” I had no idea what had happened between them out in the lobby, but I knew it had to be something big. Otherwise, why would Stephan ask her for an apology?

  It was her turn to look uncomfortable. “My apologies. I feel rather protective of my patients, and I suppose I may have gotten a bit carried away. Your situation is unusual.”

  Stephan nodded. “Yes, it is, but it works for us.”

  The rest of my session was tense, but they didn’t fight. At the end, Dr. Perkins walked us to the door. “It was nice to finally meet you, Stephan. You’re not exactly as I expected you’d be.”

  He pulled me against his side and released a noise that sounded somewhere between a snort and a laugh. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment.”

  She smiled and then looked toward me. “I hope you have a nice Thanksgiving, Anna, and I’ll see you next week at our normal time.”

  I nodded, and Stephan led me out into the hall.

  Stephan

  I was not overjoyed with Brianna’s psychiatrist. Her questioning was beyond irritating, and uncalled for. Everyone questioned my relationship with Brianna, and I was sick of it. I loved her. I wanted to spend my life with her. End of story. We should not have to justify ourselves to anyone.

  In my opinion, what had happened out in the lobby when she’d returned to bring me into Brianna’s session crossed the line.

  She approached me with her arms crossed as I stood upon her reentering the waiting area. That was never a good sign, no matter who it was. “Mr. Coleman, as much as the world may revolve around you outside these walls, here it most certainly does not. I couldn’t care less who you are or how much money you have in your bank account.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Anna is vulnerable right now, and I want to make sure you aren’t abusing the situation.”

  “You think I’m abusing her?” I couldn’t believe the gall of this lady. Who did she think she was?

  “I don’t know. Are you?”

  “No.” I spit out the word through gritted teeth.

  “Anna told me that the two of you have a sexual relationship. Considering what she’s been through and the short time that has passed, I question your motives. And your intentions.”

  “Why is it that everyone finds it so hard to believe that I love her? Is it that you all find it difficult to love her? Because I find it’s the opposite. Brianna is very easy to love. She is selfless and caring. Strong. Resilient. And determined. Even with all she’s been through, she has a heart of gold. Again, I ask you, why is how I feel about her so unfathomable?”

  I tried to shake off the memory, but after that experience, I needed some time to decompress. There was no better way of doing that than to spend time with Brianna. Not quite ready to head home, I drove out of the city, until I reached the park I’d taken her to months ago. The leaves were no longer green—in fact, most of them had fallen off their branches leaving the limbs bare, but the ones that hung on were an array of oranges, yellows, and browns. It looked like a completely different place.

  Looking around, I made sure we were alone before opening the car door and stepping out onto the asphalt of the parking lot. There was a brisk wind, and I pulled up the collar on my coat to shield my neck from the cold. I walked around to Brianna and opened her door, helping her out. Once we were both as buttoned up as possible given our clothing, I took her hand and headed toward the trail we’d walked down the last time.

  She was quiet beside me as we strolled down the path that was littered with leaves. It was peaceful and calm—exactly what we both needed.

  Instead of turning off as we had last time to go to the clearing, we continued on down the path until we came to a creek that ran along the back edge of the park. It wasn’t as wide as the one behind my aunt and uncle’s house, but I hadn’t forgotten when Brianna told me about sneaking off at her father’s house to spend time by the water. It was soothing for both of us, which was perfect given the last two hours.

  I found a boulder about half my height along the side of the bank and guided her over to it. Leaning against it, I turned her so that her back rested up against my chest and circled my arms around her waist. “Are you ready for Thanksgiving tomorrow at my aunt and uncle’s house?”

  She snuggled closer to me. Whether it was for warmth or because of the topic of discussion, I didn’t know. “Will Jimmy and Samantha be there?”

  “I doubt it. Jimmy is a first year resident. They usually stick the first years with the shifts no one else wants, and most people will want to spend Thanksgiving Day with their families.”

  Brianna nodded. “Good.”

  Although I would have like to see her face, I didn’t want to relinquish my hold on her yet. “Do you not like Jimmy and Samantha?”

  “Jimmy is okay, but sometimes he makes me nervous when he moves too fast or he’s too loud.” She paused, and I could only imagine the expression on her face. “I don’t like Samantha.”

  I hummed. “She’s not my favorite person either.”

  “Samantha doesn’t like you.”

  Giving her a gentle squeeze, I rested my chin on her shoulder. “We’ve never gotten along. Most of that’s my fault. Samantha always wanted to go into psychology, so she was always trying to psychoanalyze everyone around her. We butted heads. Even back in high school. Time hasn’t changed that.”

  “So it’s not because of me?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not really. Samantha just likes to put her nose in other people’s business, and I refuse to let her have any say in my life. She doesn’t like that.”

  We stood for several minutes listening to the water as it trickled over a grouping of rocks nearby.

  “May I ask you something?”

  “Brianna, you can ask me anything you want. You know that.”

  “I know. But it’s . . . it’s about your parents.”

  Kissing the side of her neck, I buried my chilled nose in her hair, inhaling her scent and absorbing her warmth. “What do you want to know about them?”

  “Not about them really, I guess. More, it’s because of what happened to them that you don’t like therapists, right?”

  I tightened my hold on her involuntarily. “Yes.”

  My hands rested lightly on her abdomen, and she reached down to lace our fingers together. “Will you tell me why?”

  Sighing, I closed my eyes before reopening them and beginning my story. “I’ve told you that right after my parents died I retreated into myself for months.”

  She nodded.

  “My uncle insisted I needed therapy—someone to talk to, to share my feelings with.” I paused, half lost in my memories. “The first woman he sent me to . . . well, it was a waste of time. It was right after, and I wasn’t saying anything to anyone. She suggested they give it a little time and maybe try again in a few months. There was no sense in paying her to sit there for an hour each week while I said nothing. She was right. I wasn’t going to talk until I was ready.”

  I squeezed her fingers before I continued. “When I did finally start talking, Richard was adamant that I go back into therapy. He was worried I would start to internalize again if I didn’t get it out. The problem was the lady I’d seen originally didn’t have any openings, and Richard wasn’t willing to wait until that happened, so he found someone else. Looking back, it would probably have been better if I’d gone back to see that first person.”

  “Did they hurt you?” The concern in her voice made my heart melt.

  “Not physically, no. The man Richard found was supposed to be one of the best in the area at dealing with grief. At first, it wasn’t horrible, although I didn’t much care for the guy. He was arrogant, and most of the time he didn’t seem to like my answers to his questions. After a couple of months, though, things began to change. According to him, my feelings of guilt were
no longer valid. I was being a spoiled, overprivileged brat, and I needed to get over myself.”

  Every muscle in Brianna’s body tightened. “He said that to you?”

  “Yes. And unfortunately, the teenager in me took that as permission to rebel. It was shortly after that when I started sneaking out. I guess you could say I began acting like the spoiled brat he accused me of being.”

  What felt like moisture hit the back of my hand. I looked up toward the sky, but I saw no sign of rain or snow.

  Feeling another drop, I lifted my hand and turned Brianna’s face toward mine. She was crying. “Shh, love. It was a long time ago.”

  “He was a bad man.”

  I smiled and kissed each of her wet cheeks. “Yes, he was. What he did nearly caused me to destroy my life. If not for my aunt, I wouldn’t have graduated high school or gone on to college. I would have proved him right.”

  Suddenly she turned and wound her arms around my neck, hugging me. I held on tight. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Brianna. Always.”

  Chapter 35

  Stephan

  We were running late.

  It was partially my fault. Okay, completely my fault considering I could have told her to stop, but that was the last thing I’d wanted. We’d slept in since we were up late the night before watching a movie together . . . well, that and fooling around. I had an extremely difficult time keeping my hands to myself.

  This morning had been a rare occasion when Brianna woke up before I did, and when I had finally opened my eyes, she asked if she could service me. Brianna had a smile on her face, and I had no doubts that it was something she desired.

  As I drove us out of the city toward Diane and Richard’s, I grew hard again remembering. What Brianna could do with her mouth was amazing. Sarah enjoyed giving blowjobs, but she had rarely taken me all the way in—her gag reflex was too strong. She’d tried to overcome it but hadn’t been completely successful while we were together. Brianna, however, had no issues whatsoever in swallowing every last inch of me. The feeling of being completely consumed by her was something I couldn’t describe. It was exhilarating yet humbling. I felt powerful but honored at the same time.

 

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