Read Online Bellissimo Rilascio (Beautiful Release): The Family Series #3 by Leigh Ann Lunsford - Free Book Online
Authors: Leigh Ann Lunsford
Tags: General Fiction
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better and better. I thought I was supposed to come sit here for an hour, pour my heart out, and you tell me what to do.”
“No, you didn’t. You knew you needed help and it would be work, which is why the majority of the hour you’re here is filled with bantering, defensive verbiage, coping mechanisms - so you can avoid the issues.”
“Maybe you didn’t buy your degree from the Internet, after all.”
“I can assure you I didn’t,” he actually chuckles at me. “But I’m glad to know you think so. So now that you’ve effectively wasted almost half the time we have, let’s talk about the subject you try to avoid.”
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“You are. I’ll never ask you to do something I don’t feel you can handle. Therapy needs to be challenging, otherwise it’s just conversing.”
“He used to tell me stuff like that.” My voice barely a whisper, emotion clogs my throat. I tighten my hands into fists, wishing the nails I cut off would miraculously grow and dig into my skin. Just a hint of pain . . . it’s useless. I avert my gaze to the picture hanging on the wall next to me; a beach scene, it’s tranquil, placed there to emit serenity, but it’s not working today. Plastering on a fake smile, I turn my eyes to him and feel like the walls are closing in around me.
“Who used to say that to you?”
“Oh, Doc, we going to play it like that? Heath. Heath used to tell me he’d never ask for more than I could give, never push me beyond what I was comfortable with. But it was lies. It’s all lies.”
“He pushed you? Demanded more of yourself than you were willing to give?”
“NO! He fucking took it without knowing it. He burrowed so deeply inside of me that losing him was something I have no comparison for. I want to blame him for so much, but it was me. I tried to act like he wasn’t as important to me as I was to him, that it wouldn’t hurt as bad when someone left me, again.”
“Do you think he would have left?”
“He did.”
“Tell me about that night. What led to him leaving?”
“We were in Turks and Caicos, and my brother invited Dakota. It was a stupid memory. I allowed myself to dream up a connection to Dakota while I was dancing with Heath. I tried to take him back to the room and seduce him. He called me on my shit and left.”
“You make it sound like it was simple.”
“It was anything but simple. I destroyed his faith in me. I made our relationship insignificant. I took the meaning out of what he felt. I watched his eyes go from lust to devastation in a matter of minutes, and I did nothing to deny the thoughts I had just instilled in him.”
“Was he wrong?”
“So wrong. That night I realized there was not a connection between Dakota and I . . . it was only in my mind. One I was forcing so I could hide behind it. I looked at him and couldn’t get over the betrayal. The fear I felt. Sitting next to Heath, him being my rock, I knew I loved him. Felt it in every inch of my body, but I couldn’t allow him to know it. I couldn’t give him that control, the upper hand. I barely survived Dakota; I knew I’d never survive Heath.”
“Why is that?”
“Because as much as I thought I loved Dakota, it paled in comparison to how I felt about Heath. It’s different. Hard to explain.”
“Try. You may be surprised at the clarity it brings.”
“Dakota was my first love, and I won’t deny that. I had no clue what love was outside of friends and family, so the unfamiliarity of it was unsettling. I fought it, didn’t trust it, and was in a messed-up place in my life, struggling with my dad’s choices. I ran to it and ran from it at the same time. It created the illusion of standing still, never moving forward, and each time we’d cross the line and creep a step toward our future, something else would happen and send us back to the start. I don’t want to
“No, you didn’t. You knew you needed help and it would be work, which is why the majority of the hour you’re here is filled with bantering, defensive verbiage, coping mechanisms - so you can avoid the issues.”
“Maybe you didn’t buy your degree from the Internet, after all.”
“I can assure you I didn’t,” he actually chuckles at me. “But I’m glad to know you think so. So now that you’ve effectively wasted almost half the time we have, let’s talk about the subject you try to avoid.”
“I don’t think I’m ready.”
“You are. I’ll never ask you to do something I don’t feel you can handle. Therapy needs to be challenging, otherwise it’s just conversing.”
“He used to tell me stuff like that.” My voice barely a whisper, emotion clogs my throat. I tighten my hands into fists, wishing the nails I cut off would miraculously grow and dig into my skin. Just a hint of pain . . . it’s useless. I avert my gaze to the picture hanging on the wall next to me; a beach scene, it’s tranquil, placed there to emit serenity, but it’s not working today. Plastering on a fake smile, I turn my eyes to him and feel like the walls are closing in around me.
“Who used to say that to you?”
“Oh, Doc, we going to play it like that? Heath. Heath used to tell me he’d never ask for more than I could give, never push me beyond what I was comfortable with. But it was lies. It’s all lies.”
“He pushed you? Demanded more of yourself than you were willing to give?”
“NO! He fucking took it without knowing it. He burrowed so deeply inside of me that losing him was something I have no comparison for. I want to blame him for so much, but it was me. I tried to act like he wasn’t as important to me as I was to him, that it wouldn’t hurt as bad when someone left me, again.”
“Do you think he would have left?”
“He did.”
“Tell me about that night. What led to him leaving?”
“We were in Turks and Caicos, and my brother invited Dakota. It was a stupid memory. I allowed myself to dream up a connection to Dakota while I was dancing with Heath. I tried to take him back to the room and seduce him. He called me on my shit and left.”
“You make it sound like it was simple.”
“It was anything but simple. I destroyed his faith in me. I made our relationship insignificant. I took the meaning out of what he felt. I watched his eyes go from lust to devastation in a matter of minutes, and I did nothing to deny the thoughts I had just instilled in him.”
“Was he wrong?”
“So wrong. That night I realized there was not a connection between Dakota and I . . . it was only in my mind. One I was forcing so I could hide behind it. I looked at him and couldn’t get over the betrayal. The fear I felt. Sitting next to Heath, him being my rock, I knew I loved him. Felt it in every inch of my body, but I couldn’t allow him to know it. I couldn’t give him that control, the upper hand. I barely survived Dakota; I knew I’d never survive Heath.”
“Why is that?”
“Because as much as I thought I loved Dakota, it paled in comparison to how I felt about Heath. It’s different. Hard to explain.”
“Try. You may be surprised at the clarity it brings.”
“Dakota was my first love, and I won’t deny that. I had no clue what love was outside of friends and family, so the unfamiliarity of it was unsettling. I fought it, didn’t trust it, and was in a messed-up place in my life, struggling with my dad’s choices. I ran to it and ran from it at the same time. It created the illusion of standing still, never moving forward, and each time we’d cross the line and creep a step toward our future, something else would happen and send us back to the start. I don’t want to
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