Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58346 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 233(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
“I can understand that,” Doc says soothingly, and when I look deep into the man’s eyes, I know he’s not just blowing smoke up my ass with platitudes. He seems to genuinely know the feelings I went through on that awful night. It’s as if he too has been trapped with thoughts he was helpless to do anything about, unable to either fix or get rid of the problem causing the intrusive memories that were playing on repeat.
“The thought of him wanting another woman… it killed me, because in the last eleven years since we’ve been together, I never once wanted another man. Even in this lifestyle, with all the temptation around us at the club, not one single time have I entertained the idea of being with someone else. And the way Roman’s always treated me… what we had to go through in order to get to where we are… I thought we were solid, unbreakable. So I truly believed he felt the same. And that’s also why this… idea… fantasy—whatever you want to call it—of his is…” I shake my head, trying to find the words to adequately describe my feelings. “It’s fucking with my head, Doc.”
“Explain that to me again, Savannah. When you first arrived today and told me what he wanted, you were in such a panic it wasn’t making much sense. Now that we’ve started from the beginning, tell me what it is he’s… offered,” Doc encourages, his voice relaxed and casual, like we’re good friends just catching up. Not a therapist and his patient who’s on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
“It’s been eight months. Eight months of him trying to prove to me it was a one-time lapse in judgment. He swears on his life he never touched her, that they only talked, even during the one time they met up for lunch. And I hand-to-God believe that’s the truth. But still—” I bite my lip, my eyes narrowing as I shake my head slowly. “—my trust in him… I haven’t been able to get it back. No matter what he does. No matter the reasons why it happened in the first place. And even if we have good days… great days, in fact… later, something will trigger the memory of that night, and I’ll relapse into this… depression. So, I assume, in order to help me finally get past it for good, he…”
I gulp through my desert-like throat, misery filling my chest once again as I take a deep breath, saying out loud something I’ve barely let myself even whisper inside my mind.
“He wants me to be with another man.”
* * *
From Doc’s Notes:
* * *
—Something isn’t adding up.
—Sched. appt. to include Roman.
—Review notes from original membership interview sessions.
—Keep eye out for hints of previous infidelity or possible closeted bisexuality.
—Scan club surveillance outside of playrooms linked to their visits, focusing especially on the night of 12/31 this past year.
* * *
Appointment Summary: Seth would say my Spidey senses are going off. Not ready to mark Roman as a cheater and begin counseling for healing from adultery. Something is missing in the equation and need to hear what he has to say. Too many holes and assumptions in Savannah’s recollection to form professional opinion just yet.
CHAPTER TWO
SAVANNAH
I listen intently to the woman’s voice while I tap the wooden spoon on the edge of the pan, excess ground beef falling into the spaghetti sauce as my audiobook plays from the Bluetooth headphones stuck in my ears. I’ve been stuck on cozy mysteries ever since I discovered them a month ago, having only read self-help books up until then.
As the heroine suddenly gets locked in a dog cage at the grooming business she works for, the hurricane waters rising along with her panic, I use a fork to grab a noodle from the pot of boiling water and sling it against the backsplash, checking if it’ll stick. When it does, indicating the angel hair pasta is fully cooked, I turn off the burner just as she uses all her strength to try to open the kennel’s wire door. But the cage is meant to contain two-hundred pound canines who sometimes don’t necessarily want to be contained, so she doesn’t have a chance of escaping on her own, and since she’s on her knees, the floodwater is now up past them and reaching midthigh.
I bend over, pulling open the oven door to see if the garlic bread is browned yet, and my scream is audible even to my own noise-cancelling-headphone-stuffed ears. I almost leap out of my skin as strong hands grasp my hips, muscular thighs covered in slacks pressing against my ass and the backs of my naked legs, and I yank the headphones out and spin around. The oven door slams shut behind me as I look up into my gorgeous husband’s smiling face.