beginning. I’d pointed out that she was Ben’s shrink, not mine, and that I wasn’t into sharing my gross feelings with perfect strangers.
She’d gone all stubborn on me and forged ahead anyway, dragging the shit out of me no matter how hard I tried to deflect. Now I have the gal pal I’d been searching for, and the weirdest part of it is that she’s not so much about giving me advice as she is about making me see what I need to about my emotionally stunted self.
“We need to speak about one of the central issues regarding Benjamin’s behavior toward you.”
Gulp.
“He hates me.”
“No, Ashley dear, he really doesn’t. The fact is, he loves you as the mother he lost, more even, since he’s intelligent enough to recognize the love and sacrifices you’ve made for him. The issue is not you; it’s your continued defense of his father.”
Huh?
“What?”
“Simply put, he feels as if you’re betraying him every time you defend your father and his actions. Telling the boy that Wesley isn’t bad just because he left enforces his belief that you value him more than Ben.”
“But I only say that so that he doesn’t end up hating him. I don’t want him to hate Wesley, or anyone,” I croak.
Shit. Lucian had told me this weeks ago, and instead of listening I’d told him to mind his own business unless he had some fancy Psychology degree I didn’t know about.
Now I’m going to have to apologize and eat freaking crow because it seems the man is once again right.
Drat.
“I know, and under normal circumstances I would laud that sentiment. Hatred should not be encouraged, but in Benjamin’s case it’s having a negative effect.”
“What should I do?”
“Don’t encourage him to badmouth Wesley; just do not rush to his defense when Benjamin says something negative. Right now he needs to feel like you’re in his corner. When he feels secure enough he will open up to you, and then you can explain your feelings to him.”
Seems easy enough, except for the fact that I’m terrified that opening up, letting anybody know my real feelings about the douchebag, will only make them think I’m a loon.
“And as for the other.”
Ah, crap.
“I’m not going there with Lucian. This whole situation is already so strange. We’ve reconnected for all of two seconds, and I’m living with the guy and playing happy family. Risking Ben’s heart in the process. I don’t want him knowing because…”
“You’re afraid it will shatter the happiness you feel now,” she finishes for me, giving me that kind stare.
This chick is worth every penny Lucian is paying her. She’s not only managed to get me out of the bomb shelter that is my psycho head, but she knows my messed up feelings. Maybe better than even I do.
“Damn, I wish you weren’t my shrink. You’re the perfect gal pal,” I mutter, grinning when she winks.
“Well, technically I’m not your shrink, since you’re not paying me. We’re just talking, you and I.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, in that case, how do you feel about drinks Friday night?” I ask, crossing my fingers that the possessive brute will let me out of the house without a hassle.
“First round’s on me, Doc.”
“Call me Mary.”
“Ash.”
And just like that, I am no longer the lone wolf.
***
Luc
I’m feeling great for the first time in a long time. I have a son who is shaping up to be everything I could have ever wanted in a child, my woman is toeing the line beautifully, and I’ve just closed the deal of the year.
Everything’s perfect.
“I want to meet her. We should have a family dinner. Oh, and invite Brody, would you? The arse is playing harder to get than I’d anticipated.”
“Cammy, really, the man can damned well make up his own mind whether or not to claim you,” I mutter, watching my sister pick at her lunch.
We’re in my office, eating lunch, something that has become a routine for us in the last years since I’d dragged her
She’d gone all stubborn on me and forged ahead anyway, dragging the shit out of me no matter how hard I tried to deflect. Now I have the gal pal I’d been searching for, and the weirdest part of it is that she’s not so much about giving me advice as she is about making me see what I need to about my emotionally stunted self.
“We need to speak about one of the central issues regarding Benjamin’s behavior toward you.”
Gulp.
“He hates me.”
“No, Ashley dear, he really doesn’t. The fact is, he loves you as the mother he lost, more even, since he’s intelligent enough to recognize the love and sacrifices you’ve made for him. The issue is not you; it’s your continued defense of his father.”
Huh?
“What?”
“Simply put, he feels as if you’re betraying him every time you defend your father and his actions. Telling the boy that Wesley isn’t bad just because he left enforces his belief that you value him more than Ben.”
“But I only say that so that he doesn’t end up hating him. I don’t want him to hate Wesley, or anyone,” I croak.
Shit. Lucian had told me this weeks ago, and instead of listening I’d told him to mind his own business unless he had some fancy Psychology degree I didn’t know about.
Now I’m going to have to apologize and eat freaking crow because it seems the man is once again right.
Drat.
“I know, and under normal circumstances I would laud that sentiment. Hatred should not be encouraged, but in Benjamin’s case it’s having a negative effect.”
“What should I do?”
“Don’t encourage him to badmouth Wesley; just do not rush to his defense when Benjamin says something negative. Right now he needs to feel like you’re in his corner. When he feels secure enough he will open up to you, and then you can explain your feelings to him.”
Seems easy enough, except for the fact that I’m terrified that opening up, letting anybody know my real feelings about the douchebag, will only make them think I’m a loon.
“And as for the other.”
Ah, crap.
“I’m not going there with Lucian. This whole situation is already so strange. We’ve reconnected for all of two seconds, and I’m living with the guy and playing happy family. Risking Ben’s heart in the process. I don’t want him knowing because…”
“You’re afraid it will shatter the happiness you feel now,” she finishes for me, giving me that kind stare.
This chick is worth every penny Lucian is paying her. She’s not only managed to get me out of the bomb shelter that is my psycho head, but she knows my messed up feelings. Maybe better than even I do.
“Damn, I wish you weren’t my shrink. You’re the perfect gal pal,” I mutter, grinning when she winks.
“Well, technically I’m not your shrink, since you’re not paying me. We’re just talking, you and I.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Well, in that case, how do you feel about drinks Friday night?” I ask, crossing my fingers that the possessive brute will let me out of the house without a hassle.
“First round’s on me, Doc.”
“Call me Mary.”
“Ash.”
And just like that, I am no longer the lone wolf.
***
Luc
I’m feeling great for the first time in a long time. I have a son who is shaping up to be everything I could have ever wanted in a child, my woman is toeing the line beautifully, and I’ve just closed the deal of the year.
Everything’s perfect.
“I want to meet her. We should have a family dinner. Oh, and invite Brody, would you? The arse is playing harder to get than I’d anticipated.”
“Cammy, really, the man can damned well make up his own mind whether or not to claim you,” I mutter, watching my sister pick at her lunch.
We’re in my office, eating lunch, something that has become a routine for us in the last years since I’d dragged her
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