She bowed her head. They’d been on the verge of something legendary, and now they were downgrading to so much less. “Okay,” she whispered.
“This is what’s best ... for both of us.”
“I understand.” But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.
Chapter Six
Enzo
The past few weeks had shown him what he’d always known—life without Aibhlinn was hell. They kept in contact with texts and calls, but he was lucky if he saw her even once a week. It was his fault. He’d ask for it. It was the right choice. Only because you won’t deal with the underlying issues. He tapped the card he’d gotten from an office onto his desk. Dr. Laura Castells came highly recommended from his mother. Karen Jordan had the pulse on local counselors and psychologists. At fifty-five, his parents were still active with fostering, and they would always have a soft spot for the kids others would turn away.
His mother had spent more time going back and forth with mental health caregivers than most humans. He trusted her judgment. So why are you hesitating? This is how you get Aibhlinn back. Part of him was terrified he couldn’t be helped, or he might make things worse. He understood what a trigger was—an event that brought back bad memories—and in a worst case scenario, flashbacks of traumatic things that had happened in the past.
He went out of his way to avoid those things. It was why women never slept overnight, and he hadn’t attempted a relationship. He had a fucked up brain. Women made him cagey and paranoid when it got too deep. He could do the math and figure out why. He’d had a neglectful and abusive mother who’d abandoned him. The problem was, logic didn’t have shit to do with emotion
s. He couldn’t turn off that damaged mode. Regardless, he needed to keep his promise. He took a deep breath, and dialed the number.
“New Life Counseling center, how may I help you?”
“Yes, I’d like to book an appointment with Dr. Laura Castells.”
“Have you been seen by Dr. Castells before?” the pleasant voiced woman asked.
“No, this will be my first time.”
“One moment, sir, let me see what she has available.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He held his breath as Michael Buble’s voice crooned in his ear about the holidays. He grimaced. To say he wasn’t in a festive mood was an exaggeration.
“I see here she has an appointment available Friday, November the twentieth at three o’clock.”
A week from now. “I’ll take it.”
“Excellent. May I get your name, please?”
“Yes, Enzo Jordan.”
“Okay, Mr. Jordan, we need you to get here fifteen minutes before the appointment, so you can fill out paperwork.”
His chest tightened, but his spirit felt lighter. He wanted to call Aibhlinn and celebrate. She would be proud of him. He spun the phone in his hand. They hadn’t spoken yet this week, so it wouldn’t be too much. He hit speed dial and waited, anxiously.
“Hey, Enz, everything okay?” she asked. He heard a male voice in the background and frowned.
“Yeah, did I catch you at a bad time?” he asked.
“No, I was just showing Keir around town. Poor guy’s been cooped up in his apartment too long,” she explained with a teasing tone that told him Keir was listening.
He scowled, remembering the Irishman he’d met at the art show. “Oh ... well, I won’t keep you. I-I just wanted to tell you I booked an appointment with a psychologist.”
“You did?” she gasped.
“Yeah. It, uh ... It’s for next Friday.”
“That’s fantastic, Enzo! I am so proud of you. I know that wasn’t the easiest thing to do.”
He could tell she was guarding her words to protect his privacy. It made him long for her even more. “A promise is a promise, right?”
“Yes, it is.”