“It’s always been virtual,” she murmurs, uncurling her fists. “You don’t care?”
“If being fucked in the head wasn’t part of my job requirement, I’d go myself.” I grab the root beer she hasn’t touched and take a sip. “You can use my office down here if you want, but the one upstairs is fair game. You can set up shop in there for work or therapy or whatever you want. And if you need anything else, like screens or a standing desk, just ask.”
“Um, thank you.” She slides off the stool. “I’ll go set up, then.”
She stacks one of the boxes of food on top of her laptop, then grabs the bottle of root beer I took a sip out of and heads upstairs.
When I hear the upstairs office door close, I walk down to my office and retrieve my own laptop.
Back in the kitchen, I sit where Val just was and launch my security system.
As I take the first bite of my gyro, the camera feed comes to life. And I watch as Valentine sits behind the desk, readying herself for therapy.
CHAPTER 37
Val
I press the little lever under the chair, and the seat lowers until it’s at a comfortable height.
The office is nice. I looked through it earlier, and the heavy dark-stained furniture is very Dominic. But the leather office chair is comfortable, and there’s a place to plug my laptop in right on the desk, so it’ll suit me just fine.
For a moment, I think about leaving my cold bottle right on the desktop, but the craftsmanship of the desk is beautiful, so I start opening drawers, looking for a coaster.
I don’t find one, but I find a blank notebook, which will work.
After turning on my laptop, I click the link to join the web session.
There’s still a couple of minutes before we’ll start, and I glance past my computer to the office door. I’m tempted to go lock it, but I have to trust that Dominic won’t just walk in during my session. Not to mention I can’t imagine a locked door would do much if he really wanted to get in.
My screen shows my face looking back at me as I wait for the doctor to join.
I tighten my ponytail.
I shift in my seat.
I take another sip of root beer.
I’m always a little nervous before our appointments because therapy is never exactly fun, but today I feel extra stressed.
Probably because I know I have to tell her that I got married and moved to a new state since we last talked.
I shove my hands in my lap and remind myself that she won’t judge me. She never has.
The scent from the lunch Dom brought home for me fills the office. I won’t eat it while we talk, but I always feel wrung out after therapy, so my plan is to just sit here and eat it cold afterward—by myself.
I’m considering opening the container to sneak a fry when the screen changes, alerting me that the doctor is about to join.
“Good afternoon, Val.” Doctor Amy smiles at me, her springy gray curls framing her face.
“Hello.” I wave. Like a moron.
“How was your day today?” She starts the session as she always does.
As I’ve learned to do, I take my time before answering.
I think about waking up with Dom half on top of me. And about him kissing the back of my head while he thought I was sleeping.
I think about the work call with the girls this morning and all the laughs and smiles we had.
I think about how I felt when I thought Dom had a room set up for another woman. How it made me feel sick to think about him with someone else.
And then how relieved I felt when he said they were his mother’s things.
And I think about him dodging the bra I threw at him because it was his mom’s bra.
I smile. “It was good.” I think about the delicious-smelling food waiting for me, because my new, definitely crazy, husband checked on me and wants to make sure I eat. And that he brought me a gyro and fries because he likes my softness and isn’t trying to put me on a diet. “It was actually pretty good.”
“You sound surprised by that.”
I lift a shoulder. “The last few days have been not so good.”
Doctor Amy makes a sound of understanding. “Want to talk about that?”
“I don’t really know where to start,” I admit.
“What were some of the feelings you had that made it not so good?”
The lightness of a moment ago drifts away, and I roll my lips together. “I’ve been… I had to go to a funeral yesterday.” I swallow. “And I know my mom’s funeral was six years ago, but recently, I’ve been having all those feelings again.”