He thanked the couple and wished them a good honeymoon. And as they walked away hand in hand, instead of Donovan feeling cynical about what lay before them, he felt something altogether different. Envy. The best kind. The kind that stoked that burgeoning fire in his gut.
He checked the shot the girl had taken of him, pressed a few buttons, and sent the photo.
The response that came was immediate.
Marin: Things that are not fair—You looking at a beautiful view and being ridiculously handsome while I’m stuck here about to counsel Karina about forgetting to wear a bra to group AGAIN. Double D’s need support, West.
Donovan chuckled, the sound getting lost in the wind. Marin knew exactly what that picture signified, knew this was different than all the ones they’d exchanged since he’d left, but he loved that she didn’t go there. She went with making him laugh. And despite the view, he wished with everything he had that he was there with Marin, dealing with the antics in group. He missed his life at The Grove. His clients. His job. Marin.
Miss wasn’t a strong enough verb for that last one. Pine was more accurate. He pressed his hand over the place where her picture was in his shirt pocket, a heavy ache there. But he’d needed to do this. He’d needed to step off the hamster wheel and sit still. Be with all that ugly stuff he’d been sprinting from. Get real help this time instead of just throwing himself into a relentless work schedule to block out the bad. Grieve his parents, the losses in his life. Breathe through it all. Feel it. Take the advice he would’ve given a client who was in this position.
But all this time away felt like an eternity now. He’d checked himself in for a thirty-day intensive therapy program, finally facing the demons head-on. And then he’d traveled, taking his first break from work in his life and putting his head back together. So he could be that guy. He wanted to be that guy. Not just for Marin but for himself. His parents wouldn’t have wanted him to be some miserable workaholic asshole. It wasn’t who they’d raised him to be.
Donovan’s fingers moved over the screen of his phone.
Donovan: Maybe she was trying to help everyone overcome distraction. Unsupported double D’s could be a powerful teaching moment.
Marin: *rolls eyes* They have the power to derail a group therapy session, for sure. Two guys took really long bathroom breaks. But srsly, u good?
He’d talked to her last night, told her where he’d be today. He’d talked to her every night since he’d left. About nothing. About everything. They had long phone dates every night doing all the things he should’ve done with her instead of just jumping straight into sex. Though their talk had slipped into the erotic zone on more than one occasion. She got him sexually. Understood and connected in a way he’d never experienced before. But it was so much more than that. She got him. He fell in love with her a little more each time they talked. And he loved that it wasn’t always serious. They had fun. A concept that had eluded him for most of his adult life. Last night they’d caught a rerun of Dawson’s Creek. They’d sent each other selfies of their best Dawson ugly cry face. He’d totally won that contest—and had gloated. Obnoxiously. She was still making him ridiculous.
He loved being ridiculous.
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And once upon a time that question—you good?—would’ve stirred up all kinds of complicated answers. But this one was an easy one.
Donovan: I’m good, Rush. But I miss you.
Marin: I know.
He laughed.
Donovan: You going Han Solo on me now?
Her response was a long time coming this go-round, the little dots indicating her reply seeming endless. Then her response popped up.
Marin: Joking is easier than telling you the truth. That your photo kind of wrecked me. That I miss you every goddamned minute.
The simple words reached inside him and gripped, making everything yearn. He’d already known it was time, but now he wished he had a teleporter, that he could just snap his fingers and have her there in front of him. Wrap his arms around her.
Donovan: I’m ready to come home. Ready to have me?
More dots. More waiting. More held breath.
Marin: Is this a sext?
Donovan smiled. He could picture her there in her office, grinning through the tears and being the strong woman he knew her to be. One who would always keep him on his toes.
Donovan: Yes. Obviously.
Marin: Then yes. Obviously.
Donovan ran his finger over her name on the screen. When he added it all up, he’d only known Marin for a short time. But in some ways, he’d felt like he’d known her his whole life. They’d missed that first opportunity, and the universe was giving him his second chance.
Another text dinged.
Marin: Come home, West. We all miss you.