Healing Love: A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 2) Page 5

  His voice cuts through my haze when he asks, “What about Alexander? What’s your relationship with him?”

  “In his presence, I never feel broken and damaged. He never wanted to accept the reality of my condition. He always preferred to see it as a phase to pass.” Pain stabs at my heart. I miss him, and my lips curl into a small smile. “He has the ultimate hero complex. When I prepared to say my final goodbye, he declared his love for me.”

  “How do you feel about that?”

  “Guilty I can’t respond . . .”

  His eyes squint at me. “You never had feelings toward him then?”

  “Not the romantic kind. I’ve loved this way with only one man, Damien. I’ve loved my family, my brother, Damien’s parents and sister. I know what love feels like, romantically, though only with him.”

  His eyebrows furrow at me. “How was it to discover the duplicity and the lie you believed for so long?”

  “The proof of my innocence didn’t have the power to erase what happened. It didn’t grant me my old life and self back and not the man I loved, nor the years we’ve lost by being consumed by hatred, guilt, and remorse,” I admit.

  He tilts his head to the side, scribbles something down. “Does he know of her involvement?”

  “Thanks to Alex, yes.”

  I huff and scrunch my nose.

  “You seem irritated with it, why?”

  “I didn’t want him to find out the truth, but to protect him from another hurt and disappointment. Plus, I supposed my life would end soon.”

  “How did he react?”

  Anger and hurt swirl inside me at his renewed deceit, and I jab my fists into the seat. “He claimed he never loved her. It was all a plan to make me suffer pretending to be with her and marry her. He was furious which is understandable and hurt for what we’ve lost . . . the love and our baby.”

  “What about your cousin’s action?”

  “I made excuses for her.”

  He sets his pencil down, and his eyes seek mine, his forefingers glued to his mouth. “Any other person in your place would react slightly different and be inclined to demand an explanation, at least.”

  “I told you I might be irredeemable.” I let out a sullen laugh, and he crosses one leg over the other.

  “You suffered great losses in a short period and at a relatively young age. You also suppressed not knowing if someone raped you.”

  Shivers run down my spine, my heart pounding in my chest. “It crossed my mind.”

  “How does this knowledge make you feel?”

  “Furious, stupid, dirty, helpless . . . I ignored it. But suppressing it aggravated it.”

  “Being violated takes away one’s control and self-esteem. It’s never easy to overcome.”

  “You think this was a trigger for my obsessive desire for control?”

  His lips part, and he taps his lower lip. “Possibly. From experiencing a carefree life to the abrupt change, your mind’s coping mechanism was to numb you.”

  “It kept me alive.”

  “But also a prisoner. Please, go on. Why do you allow your cousin her excuses?”

  “She’s always been in love with him. I never imagined she would ever be capable of doing something so hideous. Still, I was the only one who stopped living but everyone else somehow moved on. By reacting as I did, I let go and found a way to move on, although it pushed me in the opposite direction to life, but still a movement.”

  “Do you hold her accountable for what happened to you?”

  I draw my lower lip through my teeth, my fingers halt scrawling on the armrest. My body pulsates with two contradictory forces—anger and acceptance. I wave a hand through the air, and say, “Can one hold a person responsible who has no clue what her actions caused? It’s irrelevant.”

  “But is it irrelevant to you?”

  I throw my head back, my eyes glaring at the ceiling and say, “Of course not.”

  “Please, continue.”

  “Finding out the truth released some guilt. I spent that night with Damien. Alex recounted to him how my life had been for the past years. It was cathartic at some level and distressing on the other. It’s hard to never find out the desired answer to a merciless what if?”

  “How did you feel?”

  “Betrayed, but I forgave Alex. It was his last attempt to save a member of his family. I can accept it. He lost his mother at a young age, and he tried everything to avoid that kind of loss from happening again.”

  He links his fingers together, and his chest bends over his knees. “I observe a behavioral pattern, Bria. You keep finding excuses for everyone else but not for yourself.”

  I purse my lips, and his eyes glance at his watch. “The session is enough for today. Allow me to congratulate you. You did great. You’ve every reason to be proud of yourself and today is only the beginning.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Bertrand.”

  “Thank yourself foremost for asking and accepting help. Until tomorrow.”

  He rises, and an understanding passes between us. A sense of lightness pulls me in. I amble toward the terrace where both my counselor and my butler meet me.

  The corners of Elisabeth’s eyes crinkle as her lips curl up.

  “How was your first therapy session?”

  A warm feeling snuggles inside my belly. “A beginning.”

  “Very good. What would you like to do after you eat?”

  “Swim.”

  I eat, rush to my room, and put on a patterned bathing suit.

  I jump into the pool, my skin prickling as the water hits my heated skin. It feels good to allow myself to enjoy and live in the now. The sun shines on my face, the cold water rolls down my skin, and I am alive.

  BRIA

  The first month rushes by. I enjoy the behavioral-cognitive therapy and the set schedule. My therapist insists on having a planned schedule and to respect it at least regarding my meals and sleep times. Swimming has had a positive effect on me. Engaging in some mild activities stopped my brain from taking over. Every day I catch myself smiling more often.

  I’ve talked a lot about the damaged relationship to my family. Today as a challenge, I have to call my mother and try to reconnect and share with her what I’ve been through all while anxiety runs rampant in my belly. I pace through the room as I bite down on my lower lip as my heart pounds in my rib cage. We stopped having real conversations years ago. Now, we mostly exchange pleasantries meaning keep each other up to date.

  Where do I start? What do I say?

  But Dr. Bertrand urged me to try. With the smartphone Quinn left me, I dial my mother’s number, and my nerves strain to the hilt. I exhale the breath trapped in my lungs as my mom picks up.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  “Bria, is that you? Are you all right? I don’t recognize this number.” My mom fires with questions, and I sink into the egg swing.

  “No, don’t worry, everything is all right. I forgot my smartphone in Quinn’s jet.”

  “Oh, yes, of course. I didn’t think of that,” she admits in her fruity voice, and my head drops.

  A pause follows tearing at my heart, and I whisper, “I’m sorry.”

  She gasps, and my eyes well up. I can’t remember the last time I said those words. The silence on the other line stretches my discomfort. Maybe it’s a bad idea. Perhaps after all this time, I should leave things as they are.

  “Okay, then I guess we’ll talk when I come back.”

  She stumbles on her erratic breaths, “Honey, please, don’t hang up. Are you all right?”

  I crumble inside, waves of guilt, fear, and panic pull me under as I gasp for air. “I haven’t been right in a long time, but I’m working on it,” I confess, and she sniffles.

  “I’m so sorry for not being able to help you. I’ll never forgive myself for this.”

  I wave her self-accusations off. “Stop it, Mom, please. No one could’ve helped me. It’s my fault, not yours. You did everything you could.”

  “May
be I should’ve tried harder.”

  It’s impossible to make someone understand that it’s not their fault when they’re sure it is. “I would’ve left sooner.”

  “But you did it, nonetheless. You chose . . .”

  Her unspoken accusation lingers around us. In my desperation to leave, I chose strangers over my family. I don’t deny it, but for me, it was the only way to cope with everything.

  “I realize it’s hard to understand, but I was void of every feeling inside me. It’s Quinn who offered me something I couldn’t deny. Without him, I wouldn’t have made it.”

  A muffled cry escapes her lips, and my fingers tighten around my phone.

  “Even worse. As a mother, I was incapable of helping my child, but a stranger succeeded in doing so. What did I do wrong, please tell me? When we came back, you were a different person, what happened?”

  “I glimpsed it in your eyes, Mom, the hope I would come back, that it was only a temporary meltdown, but also the disappointment. You blamed me, for throwing everything aside and for hurting Damien. But hearing it pushed me further away.”

  Her muffled pain turns to deafening. “I’m sorry, baby, but we were also in shock and trying to understand why you did what you did. I had a breakdown over you and Rebecca over Damien. I saw him, and I worried. The way he looked and behaved, I thought we’d lose him too. Neither of you revealed more than repeating you cheated, and he caught you. We had to manage this fallout somehow. You were both so young, and we were incapable of saving either of you. You both ceased to be the children we knew. I’ve never chosen him over you. I’m sorry I gave you that impression. But he was there, and you were thousands of miles away. We stayed together while you built yourself another family.”

  Her pain slices me but hearing of Damien, the pain detonates in me and shatters my heart. I pull my knees to my chin, wrap my hands around my legs, and rock myself.

  “Please, Mom, it hurts. The pain suffocates me. I can’t handle so many emotions at once. I’m not there yet.”

  “Do you know what’s heartbreaking, baby?” Her voice quivers with her next words. “You left me standing outside knocking on a door, but no one would let me in. So, I stared at it hoping one day you’d open it again. I hope you’ll never experience the agonizing pain when your child’s alive, but the life has vanished from its eyes. Don’t tell me about darkness, Bria. I witnessed it every time you looked at me. I let you go because you were already gone. There were times I wished you would’ve never fallen in love with Damien at all . . .”

  My words get stuck in my throat as I open and close my mouth, my eyes shut.

  We both sob and all the “I’m sorry’s” will never be enough.

  “Will we find a way back, Mom?”

  A surprise cry rings through my ears. “What are you talking about? Of course we will. I’ve always and will always love you with everything I have. I’ve waited years to hear you ask for me again. We’ll find a way.”

  A small smile draws at my lips and hope blossoms inside myself. “I’ll see you in a month.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’ll tell you everything when I return, I promise. We did well for our first time, though.”

  “You gave me the impression I was talking to my Bria. You made me incredibly happy.”

  I grit my teeth and huff. “I’m not that girl anymore, Mom.”

  “It’s okay, baby. I want you to be yourself. As long as you’re happy, I am too.”

  She lightens up the mood, and relief sweeps through me.

  “Thank you. I wish it would go as smooth with everyone else . . .”

  “Be patient. You’ll win everyone back.”

  My hand stretches toward the window, and I lean my head to the side. “I hope you’re right.”

  ***

  The next therapy session finds me seated in my plush armchair, legs crossed, reiterating the conversation we had.

  David peers at me through his glasses, his attention never waning. “How did it go?”

  “Anxious at the beginning.”

  “Why did you feel anxious?”

  “There’s still this side of me which tries to hold me from expressing my feelings, but I encouraged myself by assuring I could handle the emotional pressure. To get where I want to be, I have to accept and express my feelings.”

  He nods, his finger digging into his cheek. “You’ve made great progress. You can now figure the messages behind your emotions and define clear limits. You took back the control over yourself. Always remember, you’re the one who sets the boundaries.”

  His praise unleashes a verbal avalanche.

  “I’m positive I’ll spend quality time with other people because I want to. I am amazed how I’ve survived so long in the darkness. I don’t want to go back there.”

  He puts his notepad beside him, and bows his upper body forward, crossing his fingers. “People who learn what you’ve gone through will understand there might be events which might trigger some symptoms back. If you draw the line and don’t push yourself over it, especially in the beginning, you’ll be all right. There’s no need to regress, but whenever you’re overwhelmed, count the reasons why you left it behind you.”

  “Noted.”

  “I’ve heard you spend a lot of time swimming. Tell me about it.”

  “I’ve always loved the water and swimming, but I gave it up when everything went down. I couldn’t stand anything that reminded me of another time and another me. But now, it’s liberating. When I’m in the water my mind clears. Water grounds me. Every time I surface to drag a breath of fresh air, I come alive.”

  “You should practice it even after you leave, and try to find as many activities that give you joy.”

  “I will.”

  “You already embrace what’s beneficial to you. Have faith in yourself and keep doing what feels good for you, Bria.”

  My fingers halt on the armchair, thoughts of Damien infiltrating my every cell, and my eyes find Dr. Bertrand’s. Should anyone have the power to peer inside the other? I feel my eyebrows furrowing and tilt my head to the side. His shoes clack on the wooden floor as he leaves me alone with my scattered thoughts.

  BRIA

  Two weeks to go and then the doors to a new life will open before me. My eyes light up in the bathroom mirror, a mix of excitement and mild fear. Here it’s easy, but outside will be the final exam I’ll need to pass. I straighten my shoulders, assure myself I know who I am now. I won’t get lost again in the numbness of my mind. I dip my hands into the water, bend down, and splash the cold liquid over my face.

  I dab the fluffy white towel on my skin and smile at my reflection for the first time in years. Under layers I peeled off, I came to shine as a strong and determined beautiful young woman who has her entire life ahead of her. I’m a fighter, a survivor, and someone who enjoys being free. I’m motivated enough to achieve everything I wish for.

  World be ready, here I come to live, laugh, and embrace life.

  I swirl on my heels and amble down the stairs, my smile plastered on my face.

  Elizabeth is curled up on the sofa flicking through a house decorating magazine.

  As she takes me in, her eyes shine. “Look who’s extra cheerful today.”

  As I pick up a magazine, an idea hits me, and I snap my head to hers. “I think it’s time for an image change.”

  “Let me ask Caroline, she’ll know who to call.”

  “Perfect.”

  She inches next to me, her eyes traveling the length of my hair. “What do you have in mind? Cutting?”

  I close my eyes, and my heart twitches in my chest. “My hair length means something to me. I’ll always keep it long.” A sigh escapes my mouth, the image of Damien filling my mind. He’s always there, anyway. Nothing new.

  Her features transform into a pensive expression, and she says, “By now, I’m sure you’ll need a brainwash to forget about him.”

  “How did you know he has something to do with all of thi
s?”

  “Your eyes. They darken whenever you’re deep in thought, and when they twinkle you think about him.”

  I discard the magazine and turn toward her, my fingers intertwined and confess, “I can’t stop. I try, but I’ve also come to accept he’ll always be a part of me. I’ll always both love him and be in love with him.” I draw my lower lip through my teeth, some nerves scraping at my belly waiting for her answer.

  “Bria, you experienced a special and unique love which ended in trauma and tragedy. But look at you now, you don’t crumble at the pain anymore like you used to. You moved on, but it seems you keep only the memory of the love in your heart.”

  Bitter laughter crawls up, but I hold it back. A memory? No, only if a memory can torch up your heart with a fire that never ends.

  “Do you think you’ll be able to love someone else, eventually?”

  My shoulders sag, and my head drops as I pluck a hair caught in my shirt top. “I’m not appalled by the idea, but I’d be lying to myself if I said I want to. It would never be enough to fill the hole inside my chest. I’d always compare it to what we had, which isn’t right. For now, at least.”

  “You’re not over him. There are still unresolved issues between you two. Perhaps, tell him, and eventually move on.”

  Move on? Whenever I hear that, my insides burn with the agony and fury of a thousand hells, and I groan.

  “He moved on so quickly.”

  “Do you blame him?”

  My hands curl up into fists, and my jaw twitches. “I do, I hate the fact he could do it, and it makes me angry, but also sad.”

  Her soft hand caresses my fists, and my muscles relax. “It’s time for dinner. Come on, you don’t have to deal with it right now.”

  I nod and follow her to the dining room.

  When I retreat to my room after dinner, I pick up my phone and call Quinn.

  “Hi, you.”

  “Someone is doing well, I see.” Relief laces in his words.

  “I am. There’s little time left for my stay. I’m all fidgety but also excited.” I crawl in bed and tuck myself under the sheet, my head resting on my knees.