The Return(52)

She lifted her head from my shoulder as my lips met her neck. Her skin felt as delicate as silk under the tip of my tongue. With a groan, she pulled me even closer, and I finally moved my lips toward hers.

I kissed her, reveling in the tentative fluttering of her lips as she kissed me back; when my mouth opened, I felt hers open in response and our tongues touched, the feeling as exquisite as anything I’d ever known. My hands began to explore her body, tenderly tracing her stomach, then the side of her breast, trailing down her hip, already memorizing the feel of her body. Through it all, I was conscious of my love for her, coupled with a riptide of desire more powerful than I’d ever felt before. I wanted all of her. When I finally pulled back slightly, our bodies still tight against each other, her eyes were half-closed, her mouth parted in sensual anticipation. Then, in a motion that felt utterly natural, I encircled her hand with my own and took a small step backward. Her eyes stayed on mine, and with a gentle tug, I led her inside, toward the bedroom.





Chapter 11





Interesting,” Bowen said to me during our session on Monday.

We were sitting at the dining room table, which I’d moved back into the house, two glasses of iced water between us. He’d arrived almost an hour earlier and I’d walked him around the property and the house. I’d shown him the beehives from a distance (he didn’t receive the full song-and-dance I’d offered Natalie) as well as the boat. When our session had begun, I’d started the conversation as I usually did—with an update on various issues associated with PTSD—before finally proceeding to my date with Natalie. I’d told him just about everything, though not with any of the intimate details.

“That’s all you have to say about it?” I asked. “That it’s interesting?”

“What would you like me to say?”

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

Bowen brought his hand to his chin. “Do you really believe you’re in love with her?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Without a doubt.”

“You’ve known her for less than two weeks.”

“My grandfather fell in love with my grandmother the first time they ever spoke,” I countered. In all fairness, though, I’d been pondering the same question all morning. “She’s…unlike anyone I’ve ever met before,” I went on. “And I know it’s not logical. But yes, I love her.”

“And you’d give up your residency for her?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Interesting,” he repeated. The evasive neuter-speak Bowen used could be frustrating, to say the least.

“You don’t believe me?”

“Of course I believe you.”

“But you’re concerned about something, aren’t you?”

“Aren’t you?”

I knew exactly what he was referring to, of course. “You mean the other guy,” I said.

“It does add potentially challenging implications.”

“I understand that. But her feelings for me are real. And she told me that she loved me.”

He adjusted his glasses. “Based on what you’ve described, it sounds like she probably does.”

“You think so?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest. Sometimes you underestimate how others might perceive you. You’re young, intelligent, successful, wealthy, and some would regard you as a hero for your military service.”

“Well, gee. Thanks, Doc.”

“You’re welcome. However, my point was that while I can easily imagine a woman falling in love with you, that doesn’t necessarily mean that it isn’t complicated for her. Nor does it mean your relationship will progress in the way you hope it will. People are complex, life seldom turns out the way you imagine it will, and emotions can be contradictory. From what you said, it seemed she was trying to tell you she was conflicted about the relationship between the two of you. Until she resolves that conflict, it might be a problem.”

I took a sip of my water, processing what Bowen had just said. “What should I do?” I finally asked.

“About what?”

“About Natalie,” I said, hearing the frustration in my tone. “What do I do about her relationship with the other guy?”

Bowen raised an eyebrow. He said nothing, waiting for me to answer my own question. He knew me well enough to understand that I’d be able to eventually figure it out, which I did.

“I need to accept that I can’t control another person,” I intoned. “I can only control my own behaviors.”

“That’s correct.” Bowen smiled. “But I suspect it doesn’t make you feel any better.”

No, I thought, it really doesn’t. I took some deep breaths, wishing it weren’t the truth, before automatically repeating much of what I’d learned in our previous sessions. “You’ll tell me that for now, I should strive to be the best version of myself that I can be. I need to sleep, exercise, eat healthy, and keep mood-altering substances to a minimum. Practice DBT and CBT skills when I’m feeling on edge. I understand all those things. And I’m doing those things. What I want to know is what I should do with regard to Natalie, so I don’t go crazy with worry.”