Not Broken: The Happily Ever After(6)

Her marriage to Daniel was on the rocks and most likely headed for divorce. She now knew firsthand the pain of being cheated on. She knew how deep that sort of betrayal cut. Part of me felt sorry for her, but part of me, a small part of me, sort of enjoyed her pain. When I’d been cheated on by Paul, she’d had no sympathy. She’d loved to make snide comments about my inability to keep a man satisfied. Hell, she’d even invited him to her wedding.

He’d died that night. Ruled an accident, but now I knew better. It’d become another one of the memories that replayed in my head with the knowledge of who Seth really was. I shook my head and pushed away those thoughts.

Seth’s cars mocked me when I entered the garage. Just like his closet, they’d remained untouched. I needed to sell them, but I hadn’t. Instead, they sat under their custom-made car covers, serving as more reminders of a life forgotten. With a heavy sigh, I hit the button on the wall to open the garage door, climbed into my small SUV, and headed toward Dr. Carr’s Buckhead office.

“You knew!” I accused when I entered her office twenty minutes later.

She closed the door behind me. “Good morning to you as well, Calida,”

I dropped my bag into the chair in front of her desk and started pacing. The soothing blue colors and calming ocean décor were not having their desired effect. She’d told me yesterday that Malcolm had come to see her for advice. She knew I was walking into an ambush and yet she’d said nothing.

“Do you want to tell me what it is I knew about?” she asked in her annoyingly even tone.

I turned to glare at her. She always seemed to irritate me more than anything, and I found myself wondering why I hadn’t found a new therapist. Or why I even continued therapy at all.

“Malcolm! You knew he was planning that…that ambush, and you didn’t warn me. Or better yet, you didn’t tell him not to.” I dropped down into the club chair across from where she sat.

Dr. Carr pushed her square-rimmed glasses up on her nose. “I don’t tell my patients what to do or what not to do. I merely help them come to positive solutions on their own terms.”

“But he’s not your patient. I am.”

“He paid me for my time, as a…consultation. Which brings me to your first issue of me not telling you. I didn’t know what he had planned. He simply asked for the best way to deal with approaching a woman who had been through a traumatic relationship. Strictly in hypothetical terms. I could not tell you what he was or was not going to do because that would have been breaking privilege. I only told you he came because he asked me to before he left.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. “Since you like hypotheticals so much, why not tell me ‘hypothetically’ that he was going to propose, well not really propose, but sorta. UGH!” I balled my fists in my hair. “He even had our parents there. I couldn’t say no, not with them all looking so happy and expectantly at me. It wasn’t right. You weren’t right, and he wasn’t right.”

Her head cocked to the side, and her voice raised an octave. “He asked you to marry him?”

Guess Malcolm didn’t give her the whole story. I looked down at the ring I now wore on my right hand instead of the left. I’d taken it off after I’d gotten dressed, but something made me put it back on. I was glad it wasn’t an engagement ring; that sort of pressure—commitment—I really wasn’t ready for. In another life, one before Seth, everything Malcolm had said to me yesterday would have made my heart sing. Years of playful flirting had fed into the pipe dream. I’d been young and na?ve then, but hopeful. Now…now my world view was irrevocably jaded.

I massaged my temples. The aspirin weren’t doing much to alleviate the morning after headache. “No, not really. But something close. He basically told me he wasn’t going to allow me to continue saying no to being in a relationship with him. He took away my right to choose. He ignored everything I’d said to him, and he gave me this,” I said, holding up my hand and pointing to the ring. “As some sort of promise ring.”

“And your first reaction was to, what?” she asked, leaning back in her chair.

“To say no, of course,” I replied, mirroring her actions.

“But you said yes. Why?”

“Because…that’s what they all wanted me to say.”

“Is that the only reason?” she pressed.

I stood and walked over to the window. My fingers gingerly ran over my lips, again remembering the kiss Malcolm gave me yesterday. I’d felt something. I’d enjoyed it, but I was also scared. However, I wasn’t sure if I was scared of him or if I was scared of the feelings he’d stirred up.

“He kissed me,” I said, still staring out the window. “No warning. He just did it.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Scared, nervous, excited, confused, angry. Take your pick.” I returned to my seat, and buried my face in my hands. “Everyone was there, looking at me, expecting me to be happy about this, so I caved. People-pleaser to my core, I guess,” I said with a humorless laugh.

Dr. Carr leaned forward and rested her elbows on her knee. “Calida, I believe in letting my patients set the pacing of therapy based on their needs. You tell me what your problems and goals are, and I try to act as a guide to help you overcome those problems and achieve those goals. But…I can only help you if you want to be helped.”