Wes led me to the couch, and after I sat down, he sat next to me. When I say next to me, I mean he was practically on top of me. His hand clasped mine, and he pulled it to his lap where he proceeded to cover it with his other hand. The doctor noted the movement but didn’t mention it. Wes was very clearly out of sorts. It wasn’t every day one saw a man so self-assured clinging to a woman in such a way.
The doctor sat in one of the tall burgundy chairs, crossed her legs, and rested her chin on her curled knuckles. Her honey-brown hair was done up in an elegant chignon, a pair of tortoise-shell glasses perched daintily on her nose. She wore navy slacks and a beige scoop-necked blouse. Her look was professional, yet approachable. A single charm dangled off a gold bracelet around her pale wrist. It had a heart, and I imagined briefly that someone who loved her had given it to her as a gift, maybe a husband or child. I looked around the room, and from where I was sitting, I could just barely see a family photo facing her chair. Another point for the doctor. A family woman. Her reputation, the help she was giving Gina, and the fact that she was a woman with a family made me believe she could potentially help my guy get through the trauma of his experience in Sri Lanka and Indonesia in a loving way.
Dr. Shofner glanced at me and then Wes. “I understand that the two of you are here because you are having some problems from a recent tragic experience.”
I nodded. Wes didn’t budge or say a word. “And this trauma is affecting your relationship?” the doctor hedged, poking a bit into the personal nature of why we were there.
“Yes,” I stated firmly.
Wes’s shoulders tightened when he spoke. “I almost forced myself on Mia last night. I was stuck in the middle of a dream,” Wes stated flatly. “I don’t want to ever do that again or risk hurting her. I love her. We plan to get married. Can you fix this?” He rushed the request out so fast I just stared and waited for the doctor to respond.
Dr. Shofner licked her lips and clucked her tongue. “Okay, well, I hope to help—” I cut her off. “He didn’t force me to do anything, and he most certainly didn’t hurt me. More than anything, I was surprised and rattled because the night terrors routine has changed. I’m not sure how to bring him back anymore.”
The doctor held up two hands. “Whoa, whoa. Night terrors. Routines. Assault. Marriage. Let’s slow down. Mr. Channing…Weston…can I call you Weston?”
Wes nodded.
“Okay, Weston. I know who you are. I’ve read the papers and have an inkling of what you may have undergone.”
Of course, we’d just seen Gina leaving her office. Obviously, she’d told the doctor what had taken place.
The doctor clasped her hands in front of her and leaned forward. “You’ve experienced something that no human being ever should. Captivity is something you survived. It does not define who you are.” She sat back and let out a slow breath. “Now, what we need to do is talk about your personal experience. Go through the event and discuss it, no matter how off-putting or vile. We can do this alone or with Mia here. It’s up to you.”
Wes looked at me and then away. “For now, she stays. But maybe the next session, when we uh”—he cleared his throat—“talk about the details, we can do that alone. Is that okay?” He directed the question at the doctor but was looking at me. Through all of this, he still wanted my approval. What he didn’t realize was that I just wanted him to be better, to come back to himself. Find peace. I smiled big and squeezed his hand.
“Okay, so since we have Mia here this session, why don’t we talk about this issue of force you mentioned.”
I rolled my eyes and was about to deny it, again, when Wes placed a finger over my lips. “Sweetheart, what happened was intolerable. I’m afraid to sleep by your side tonight. That’s why I agreed to come here. If this will help, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
I tipped my chin and watched my strong man, the love of my life, tell a stranger about our torturous night.
“Often, I have night terrors. Mia has figured out a way to bring me back from them,” Wes said.
“And that is?” she prompted, lifting her notepad off the table and scribbling some notes.
Wes’s cheeks turned pink, and he opened and closed his mouth. The shy guy thing was ridiculously adorable and made me want to kiss him repeatedly until I, too, held that rosy glow. He lifted a hand and cupped the back of his neck, rubbing it and shaking his head.
“We make love,” I answered softly, wanting to save him even a speck of embarrassment.
The doctor smiled. “And how does that bring him back?” The question was directed to me.
“I don’t know exactly. At first, he’s really angry, sweaty, his eyes completely dilated. He usually wakes with a scream or cry, or I have to wake him by turning on the light because he’s thrashing around.” The doctor made some notes and waited for me to continue. I checked that Wes didn’t want to continue in my place, but he just gave a gesture that said keep going, so I did. “Sometimes I can tell he’s still there.”
“There?” The doctor’s eyebrows rose.
I twirled a lock of hair around my index finger, thinking about how to respond when Wes jumped in.
“In the dream, on the compound, in that hut chained to a wall, sitting in my own filth.”
I leaned back, hoping he’d take the reins.
“Then it’s like I hear Mia through a fog, or from very far away asking me questions.” He frowned and looked at his shoes, his gaze intent on the loafers he’d paired with a dark wash pair of jeans.
“What questions?” the doctor interrupted.
He shrugged, not lifting his gaze, his shoes seemingly the most interesting thing in the world. “If I love her. Where I’m at? Those types of things. Usually, that helps bring me back. But then I’m…uh…you see, my lower region uh is so…” He couldn’t continue even as he gestured to a part of his body that made me weak in the knees. He should be damn proud of that appendage. It did amazing things to me and deserved to be spoken of in high praise.
“Hard? Ready to copulate?” The doctor offered in a monotone, not even a hint of suggestion. I wanted to applaud her professionalism as my thoughts went astray with the mere mention of his fat cock.
“Yes!” he said overly loud and then closed his eyes. “I mean, yeah. Christ! This is so embarrassing.”
I rubbed his shoulder and leaned close. “Not at all.”
“It’s really not, Weston. It’s a natural response to fear, and because of what you went through, being frightened for your life, it makes sense that you’d want to reach out to your mate for comfort, seeking love. I don’t see any problem in it. However, something must have changed or you wouldn’t be here.”
Wes nodded and pursed his lips so hard they turned white. He let go of my hand, stood up, and paced behind the couch, looking out the window every so often. “I could have hurt her. I wrapped a hand around her neck.” He said the words as if they were covered in vomit. Disgusting and vile. “Then I tried to get between her thighs. They did that! They did that to Gina!” He grabbed the hair at his temples and shook his head much harder than any sane person would. “And I tried to do it to Mia. God! What is wrong with me?” he cried out.
The doctor was up and to him before I could even grasp all that he’d said. She murmured something to him and brought him back to sit down. “Weston, sometimes when we are locked in a terror, our minds recreate extraordinary events to rewrite it in a way. This experience might have been a way for your mind to deal with what you saw. Mia, do you believe Weston was trying to harm you?”
I shook my head emphatically. “No. Absolutely not. The second I hollered his name, it was like the flicking of a switch, but I fear that last night was a major setback, and we’re hoping you can help him work through some of these issues,” I added, while scooting closer to Weston. He looked miserable, practically cowering in his corner on the other side of the couch. The moment I got to him, he looped an arm around my shoulders and buried his face into my neck.
; “God, I’m so lucky to have you. Mia, baby…”
I petted his cheek and locked eyes with Dr. Shofner. “I know. We’ll get through this. Together.”
* * *
The last week of October Wes was going to Dr. Shofner three times a week. His choice. She told him he’d need extensive therapy to start on the path toward healing. My guy was all in. The other addition to our routine was the little white sleeping pills he now took before bed each night. Apparently, Wes demanded the doctor give him something that would knock him out.
As much as I would miss our middle of the night wild sex, I wouldn’t miss the reason behind it. Also, it gave the extra added benefit of getting a full, uninterrupted six to seven hours sleep. After a single week of a good night’s rest and a man not worried about attacking me in my sleep, it was like the two of us were entirely new people. The world was our oyster, and we were going to live it. Finally.
Wes and I got up pretty early in the morning, made love, an extra bonus, and then we surfed. I’d head off to work or to the converted spare room that was now my personal office, and Wes would head to the gym, stay on the beach, or sometimes putter around in his den. There was still no talk of the movie that had been almost complete or whether he’d be writing anything in the near future. It wasn’t as though he needed the money. His home and vehicles were paid off, and he had investments up the wazoo. According to Wes, neither of us needed to worry about money for the rest of our lives and we’d still live comfortably. That wasn’t enough for me. It wasn’t the money I was worried about. It was Wes and his drive, ambition, life’s work. Eventually, he and the doc would need to work on this topic, but right now, healing from the trauma was paramount.
Another unfortunate side effect to Wes being home and going through post-traumatic stress therapy was the many days I’d come home to him and Gina on the couch or patio deck laughing. Judi would carry a scowl the moment I’d enter as if I were allowing him to ruin us. What she didn’t understand was that nothing was going to get between Wes and me. It was too late. We were now each other’s true north. Did I like seeing Gina DeLuca, the woman he’d spent a few months causally fucking? No, I did not. Did the doctor tell me repeatedly it was part of his healing as much as hers? Yes, yes she did. So unfortunately, I grinned and bore it. I could suffer through anything as long as Wes was on the path to finding his happiness.
Now that it was the end of the month, I had something amazing to look forward to. Yes, I’d be starring on the Dr. Hoffman show twice a week as well as the Friday fifteen-minute segment, but also, today, Ginelle was set to arrive. I could hardly frickin’ wait! Having my best friend a total of fifty feet down the stone path to the guest house was going to settle me in a way I’d never thought possible.
The moment I heard a car pull onto the gravel, I jumped up from the patio chair and started at a full run. I could hear Wes explaining the bizarre reaction to Gina as she sipped her Chardonnay.
“Her best friend is moving here from Las Vegas and staying in the guest house,” I heard him say as I slid on my Christmas socked feet along the tile in the entry.
Ripping open the door, there she stood, her hand held up in a fist to knock. “What the hell are you doing here, you fugly whore!” I opened my arms wide and she ran into them.
“God you smell bad.” She inhaled deeply into my hair and squeezed the bejesus out of me. “Shower much?” She pulled back and grinned but kept her hands on my face. “You look good…for a hobag. Jeez, I missed your skanky ass. Do you know how hard it is to catch a guy’s eyes when you don’t have a pancake ass to compare to all this”—she ran her hands down her petite but busty frame—“playing wing woman?” Gin’s eyes moistened and tears threatened.
“So sucky for you! And don’t you dare let your eyes water!” I pouted and yanked her into another full body hug. She was so tiny compared to my larger frame, and by the current standards I was pretty average.
Wes clearing his throat prevented us from throwing additional barbs at one another. Turning, I smiled wide and presented Gin. “Wes, baby, this is my best friend, Ginelle. Gin, meet Weston Channing, the third.”
Wes mouthed “the third” and winked at me. “It’s good to meet you.” He held out a hand.
Ginelle didn’t say anything. Her mouth was open, her eyes bugging out of her head. “Hot damn, my panties are wet. Wait, I’m not wearing any. My invisible panties are wet!”
I closed my eyes and silently steamed. Wes howled with laughter. He grabbed Ginelle and brought her into his arms. She rubbed her tiny body all over my man. Had it been anyone but her trying to cop a feel, I’d have been furious and downright deadly. But since I knew she was doing it more to get my goat than anything else, I pretended to ignore it.
“Um, okay, that’s, uh, enough hugging.” He pried Gin off his body. She made a point of grabbling the front of his shirt trying to keep him close. Clinging like a leech.
Shaking my head, I smacked at her hands. “Get your own,” I scolded playfully, and she pouted.
“What kind of friend are you? You’re dating movie-making Malibu Ken, and you don’t have any dolls for me to play with?” she mumbled and crossed her arms.
Of course that’s when Gina made her appearance, gripping her purse. Gin took in her beautiful body, perfect hair, teeth, clothes, and makeup and hooked a thumb over her shoulder. “Who’s that? Brunette Barbie?”
I laughed but bit my tongue when I saw Gina frown. She’d been through enough. “Ginelle, this is Gina DeLuca, Wes’s friend.”
The instant recognition dawned on Ginelle, and I knew it was going to be bad. Her eyes narrowed and her body went stiff. “You mean this fuck—”
I slammed a hand over her mouth, but she kept spouting profanity, defending what she thought was my honor while trying to break free. I had a solid forty pounds on the lean five footer. Holding her off had become a specialty after all these years.
“Um, good to see you guys. Gin’s tired, long trip. I’ll just show her to her place.” I was physically dragging her out the front door, her heels dragging along the floor. Once we got outside, she pushed me.
“What the hell was that? That cunt is in there acting like a friend when he was sticking it to her only a few months ago! I can’t believe you even allow her in your house. Are you insane?”
I sighed and dragged her to her place. “No, I’m not insane. We’re gonna need some serious booze for this discussion though.” I made my way over to the booze hutch that I had Judi fill. Gin’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. I snorted. “Do you like your new abode?” I splayed my hand out like Vanna White.
Gin took in the place. It was considered a one-bedroom studio, so it had a small kitchenette, living room, and separate bedroom and single bathroom. Perfect for a young woman starting her life over.
“It’s bigger than my place back in Vegas. Are you really sure you want me here? What happened in there, yeah, that could happen at any time.” She shook her head. She really wasn’t apologetic. That was not her style. She rarely apologized for who she was.
I looped an arm around her shoulders and knocked heads. “I know, and I love you just the way you are. But we have a lot to talk about so you know how to deal with certain situations.”
I handed her a Vodka and cranberry, and we sat on the plush couch and I told all. By the end of it, we were both yawning and had gone through a couple crying jags. It was almost cathartic, getting it all out to someone who knew me. Someone who’d known me almost my entire life and wouldn’t judge, question, or see me in a negative light. Gin was just there for me, and now, I’d be there for her as she healed through her experience. Maybe I could get her to go see Anita Shofner, too. Therapist extraordinaire. I’d bring it up later but not now. I wanted to let her get settled first.
“So you’re going to be okay here?” I crossed my fingers and hoped she really would stick it out.
“Mia, I needed this change. It was time to leave it all behind. The crummy job, the feelings of usele
ssness, missing you, and living in the same shithole day in and day out. It was time for an adventure. I’m ready to see where life takes me here in California.”
“I’ll tell you this. If I’ve learned one thing from this year, it’s to trust the journey.” I pointed down to my foot, and she grinned wickedly at the tattoo I’d come to make my personal theme song.
“Any tattoo parlors in the area?” She waggled her eyebrows, the impulsive minx.
I nodded, hooked my arm and waited for her to slip hers through it. All thoughts of going to bed gone with the mere suggestion of getting her inked up. “Yes, I do believe there is one.”
Ginelle grinned beautifully. She’d always been lovely, and now she was here, with me, about to start her life over. And this time, I’d be there to help her.
“Lead the way.” She gestured to the door, and a feeling of absolute light rushed through me.
“This time, I will lead the way.” I meant every word. After ten months of doing what I was told, going here, there, being hired to be something to save someone else, I was tired of following. From here on out I was the leader of my own destiny.
The End
Mia’s journey is continued in:
* * *
Calendar Girl: November
(Coming Soon!)
* * *
Keep reading for an excerpt!
Excerpt From October Calendar Girl #10
“When are we meeting with your friends?” Wes asked, a hint of irritation in his tone. His reaction to seeing Anton again and meeting Mason was odd. My guy had always been really down to Earth and comfortable in his own skin. Only after the experience in Indonesia, he still hadn’t gotten completely back to his easy going self. His therapist assured me it took time and to continue to give him something good to focus on.
“This evening we’re meeting with Anton and Heather. He’s planned dinner for us at his pad. Mace and Rach don’t come in until later in the week.” What I didn’t tell Wes was that Anton had offered us the use of his penthouse in Manhattan for our stay, but I knew Wes wouldn’t be thrilled. When we were in Miami, he liked Anton well enough, but that was when we were just admitting our love for one another. We were too busy worrying about what the other thought to be concerned with anyone else around us.
Calendar Girl: October: Book 10 Page 11