“How can I have happy memories of him? It feels wrong.”
“You need to talk to someone.”
“I’m talking to you.”
“And I’m happy to listen, but I don’t have any training in any of this. Melanie can—”
“She’s too close. She’s Joe’s wife.”
“She’s also about ready to pop a kid. If you’d stop interrupting me, you’d know I was going to say that Melanie can recommend someone.”
Of course. Not like I hadn’t already thought of that. Problem was, a therapist couldn’t help me with the new development Joe and I were dealing with.
No one could help me with that.
As much as I wanted to share everything with Marjorie at that moment, I owed Joe my confidence. He wasn’t telling his wife, so I could hardly tell his sister.
“I’m just saying think about it,” she said.
“I will.”
It wasn’t a lie. I’d already thought seriously about it. And I’d do it…after Joe and I took care of the Justin Valente situation.
Marjorie snuggled into my shoulder, and I kissed the top of her sweet-smelling head.
“You still going to Paris?” I asked.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“A lot of things. Are you willing to stop pushing me away?”
“I’m not ready for a relationship,” I said. “That won’t change.”
“What if I like you the way you are?”
“Then you’re nuts.”
She chuckled. “Maybe I am.”
“I was honest with you, as much as I could be without breaking a confidence.”
“I’d never ask you to break a confidence. I hope you know that.”
“I do now. So will you be honest with me?”
She sighed. “I’ll try.”
“All right, then. Tell me about that cut on your thigh.”
She pulled away from me. “I did tell you. I scratched it.”
“Sweetheart…please.”
“It’s nothing. It’s under control.”
“It’s a new wound. It’s scabbed over.”