I’m thankful that Liv gauges my mood well enough to ask the easiest questions right now. I don’t think I can handle the real ones. Those will be for another day.
“Why didn’t you ask what happened and how Jax knew those things?”
I release my bottom lip when I realize I’m chewing on it. It makes a loud popping sound, breaking the silence.
“I don’t know. I guess I never really wanted to know. I felt so ashamed for how weak I was when Logan was struggling with their absence, too.”
“Logan was dealing with the loss of his family. Not survivor's guilt, at least not to the extent you were, Adalynn. You and your brother were, are, going through two very different things. You both lost your family that night, but he wasn’t there. You are going through the loss of your family and survivor's guilt. You blame yourself, and keep everything that happened that night bottled up. Talking about it will help. ”
I ignore her and focus back on the suicide. It’s too soon to talk about the accident.
“I didn’t want to ask Jax how he knew what was happening, how he found me, and all of that crap.” I wave my hand through the air. “I just wanted to pretend like it never happened.” If only.
Liv waits a second before she gives me the hard blow. “So you wanted to pretend everything was fine instead of dealing with the problem . . . What’s stopping you now? I thought you were done pretending.”
Check mate.
I hate that she’s right, that she’s always right. Sometimes it seems like she knows me better than I know myself. I pat the teddy bear, surprised to find myself clutching him close.
“I’m trying not to pretend anymore. I just don’t see the point in getting those answers. I still tried to kill myself but Jax saved me.” I shrug. “New information won’t change anything.”
“You’re right.”
She has my attention again. “I am?”
“Yes, but you’d be surprised what can change when you put all the pieces together, Addie. It won’t change the events that happened, but how you feel might.”
This session is getting too emotional for me, too real. I’m done, I can’t take anymore of this. Not today. I set the soft bear beside me even though I secretly want to smuggle him into my purse and take him home.
“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”
“We’re done for today, I take it?” Liv asks.
I nod before rising. “Thanks, I feel better talking about the whole Jax thing.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
Leaving her office, I’m surprised how true those words are. I am happy with how much we talked through today. It’s helped my feelings toward the whole Kohen situation. I can finally stop playing ping-pong in my head with my emotions. The Jax thing will need to change and soon. He either needs to be in my life, even just as a friend, or not in my life at all. I refuse to continue tiptoeing around him, now knowing what’s okay and what isn’t.
When I reach the waiting room, I smile warmly at my brother, letting him know that I’m still in a good mood.
He opens the door for me. “I hope you’re hungry because I have it on good authority your favorite food will be at Connor’s.”
“Starved.”
Later in the car, he comments about how upbeat I am and how much it means to him to see that I’m happy again. Basically he spends the entire car ride being a big cheese-ball. I think it’s more to make up for his behavior earlier about my new job. As quickly as that thought rolls in, I force it away. Logan isn’t pretending because he feels guilty. He really sees a change in me. It makes a small blossom of hope build inside me. Maybe therapy is helping and I’m getting better. Maybe it’s possible to move on from my past after all.
Soon we step out of the elevator and into Connor’s penthouse. I hear the telltale signs of cooking. Crap, Connor cooking, so not good. Logan shares my horrid expression when he hears something banging around.
“We can still get out of here to eat something then come back before he notices,” Logan whispers, reading my mind.
I’m nodding in agreement when Connor comes around the corner sporting a “kiss the cook” apron with a revealing swimsuit model, complete with red sauce all over the front. He glowers at us. Whoops, I guess he heard. I can’t seem to find the urge to care at the moment. I’ve tried one too many of Connor’s attempts at cooking, if you can even call it that.
“Not a chance, now get in here and tell me about the interview you had with the enemy.”
Awesome, I’m starving and won’t be eating anything edible for at least three hours until I get home. I know Logan is counting the minutes until we can both escape, too. Mutely, we follow Connor into the kitchen.
I’m startled when I see Kohen chopping away at the kitchen island. A wonderful aroma assaults my senses. I turn back to my brother. He’s just as surprised as I am. Connor wears a shit-eating grin. I throw him down a few notches.
“Oh, relax Connor, we know you had help since the building wasn’t on fire when we showed up.”
Kohen holds up his hands, one hand still brandishing the menacing knife. “Actually Connor is doing most of the cooking.”
I can’t help it, I laugh with my brother. Connor cooking is too funny to picture.
“I’m serious.”
We laugh again, earning a glare from Connor.
“I’m just instructing him on what to do,” Kohen says with his charming smile.
Logan beats me to the insult. “Oh please, even with directions, the only thing he can make is either a sandwich or something that can be cooked in the microwave.”
Everyone laughs, except for Connor. He hits Logan across the back of the head before resuming his post near Kohen. Logan sits in one of the barstools alongside the island to watch Connor attempt to make dinner. I pour myself a glass of red wine. I have to admit, I’m pretty impressed with Connor. He hasn’t cut off any fingers yet and he’s chopping the onions pretty fast, well fast for him at least. After taking a delicious sip of the fruity wine, I lay my head against Kohen’s back.
I move beside him and lean against the counter. “Do you need any help?”
Kohen pauses long enough to give me the don’t-be-stupid look before returning to his task. “No, just relax, baby, and let us men folk cook you dinner for your accomplishment today.”
Jumping on the counter, I allow myself to relax while I tell them about the interview. Being so focused on retelling everything in perfect detail, I don’t even notice that I’ve finished my glass of wine until Kohen takes my glass. I’m more surprised when he washes my glass and puts it away instead of pouring me another.
“I would like some more,” I say quietly into his ear.
He shakes his head. “One is plenty.”
“I would like another glass.”
I hate that I’m whispering, but I don’t want Logan and Connor a part of this conversation. It’s embarrassing that Kohen is trying to dictate how much wine I can have. He sets down the menacing knife and stands in front of me. As he bends his head down to murmur in my ear, an act that looks like he’s whispering sweet-nothings, my skin breaks out in goosebumps, and not the good kind.
“If you’re thirsty, I will pour you a glass of water. You will not get drunk and embarrass me in front of your brother and Connor.”
It’s on the tip of my tongue to explain to him that two glasses of wine will not get me drunk, but when he squeezes my hand, harder than necessary I refrain. Instead I nod and finish telling everyone about the interview.
“I had a feeling I had it in the bag when he showed me where my office would be. He then asked if I was interested in looking around to see if I thought it would be a ‘good fit.’ Hello! It’s Malcara Enterprises, of course it’s a good fit, but obviously I didn’t tell him that.”
“Obviously,” Connor deadpans.
I go on and on about how it seemed like everyone enjoyed what they were doing. How all of the employees seemed nice but busy. It isn’t until Connor staking plates that I realize I left out the most important part.