“Then let’s explore it.”
Could it be that simple? She didn’t think so. But right now, she wanted it to be. She wanted to be his. Despite the fact she thought they were likely to butt heads. A lot. He was stubborn. He was bossy. And he didn’t understand the word compromise.
But the big butthead was all she could think about. All she wanted.
“Yes, let’s explore it.”
“Good,” was all he said. “Dominic will be back soon. Let’s get you comfy. Then see if I can give you more painkillers. You have a heating pad?”
“Umm, yes it’s in the kitchen. How do you know that I sleepwalk?”
“Seen you a few times. So you know you do it?”
She picked at the bedspread. “Yes. It started when I was young. Now it only happens when I’m really stressed.”
“Right. So we need to eliminate some stress.”
She gave him a pointed look. “Kind of impossible right now, don’t you think?”
“Did your parents ever take you to someone to help?”
She snorted. “Oh, yeah. They took me to the best therapists. Behavioral, cognitive, speech therapists. I saw them all. Anything to stop me from continuing to embarrass dear old Mom and Dad.”
“What?” he barked. “They were embarrassed?”
“I embarrass them a lot. It wasn’t just the sleepwalking. When I was four, I stopped talking. Selective mutism, they called it. At first my parents thought I was doing it for attention. Makes sense, I never got much attention from them. I was raised by a series of nannies and tutors. Can’t go to school if you can’t talk. Can’t do anything to tarnish the Silvers name.”
“They cared more about their reputation than their daughter?” He looked dumbfounded.
“My mother only cares about her reputation. All of her children had to be perfect. Nothing else was acceptable. I wasn’t.”
She took a deep breath then let it out, forcing herself to smile. “Listen to me complaining. It wasn’t so bad. I had the best tutors, clothes, holidays. I have nothing to complain about.”
He scowled. “Everything except their love and acceptance.”
Yeah. Pretty much.
“Why did you stop talking?”
She shrugged. “No one knows. I’ve always had anxiety. I guess it was related to that. Same with the sleepwalking and nightmares.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yeah, I used to wake the house screaming. My mother complained it ruined her beauty sleep.”
“Bitch. Your dad?”
“He wasn’t around much. He worked a lot. Which I found out later, was really just him fucking his assistant in hotels.”
“Christ.”
She shrugged. “When they got sick of the sleepwalking and nightmares, they put me in a downstairs room and would lock the door at night.”
“Fucking hell.” He ran his hand over his closely shaved head. “You didn’t go to school?”
“Only later, after my father lost most of his money and they couldn’t afford private tutors.”
“What about social development? Friends? Other activities?”