“With him,” Amara clarified.
“Him specifically?”
She gave a helpless shrug. “It’s always been him.”
“Could it be that you’ve only known him since childhood, so you naturally associate any budding romantic or sexual attraction with him?”
Amara was shaking her head before the other woman finished speaking. “If that was the case, I should have had these feelings for Vin. He’s been more constant in my life for longer. I love him but platonically.”
“And what about your sexual fantasies?” Dr. Das asked, getting back to the topic they had been working on for the last few weeks.
“I fantasize about him. Dante, I mean,” Amara admitted, looking down at the table. “Sometimes, he’ll carry me out to sit in the sun and I imagine how it’d feel if he picked me up for more naughty reasons. Or sometimes, when he’s talking, I look at his lips and imagine how they’d feel moving on my skin. I just look at him and imagine what he’d do if I kissed him. I mean I did ask him to kiss me and he didn’t so I’m not sure how…” she trailed off.
“But he didn’t reject you,” Dr. Das pointed out.
Amara shook her head, sipping more water. No, he hadn’t rejected her. “I think he’s being careful with me.”
“That’s considerate of him,” the older woman noted. “But you don’t sound too happy about it.”
“I mean,” Amara bit her lip. “I like that he’s thoughtful because I don’t know how I’ll react in a situation like that. But I just want him to do it, you know. It makes me anxious. Can we not talk about this?”
Dr. Das nodded, tucking a stray curl back in place, making a note in her journal. “Okay. What about Nerea? How are you dealing with her?”
Amara thought of the woman and bit her lip. “I’m not really thinking about it, honestly. It’s conflicting.”
“Why?” Dr. Das asked.
Amara leaned back on the comfortable couch, staring up at the ceiling. It had a nice abstract pattern. “My father has never been in my life. It’s just been Ma and I and I’ve never felt anything was missing. But knowing he had another kid he actually raised, and we never even knew. It’s just too odd. I mean, I’m not jealous or anything. She’s actually really nice to me. It’s just weird. I always wanted a sister, but I don’t know if I’m projecting that desire to see her affection, or if she’s truly affectionate for me. I don’t want to hinder any potential relationship we can have but I also don’t want to trust too easily.”
“Fair enough,” Dr. Das spoke from her chair. “Seems like you want her to earn your trust.”
“Yes,” Amara agreed.
The other woman stood up, indicating their time was ending. “I want you to think about two things for me this week, Amara.”
Amara nodded. She liked the direction Dr. Das gave her. While she knew a lot of people in their world didn’t believe in therapy, Amara knew her time with Dr. Das was one of the main things keeping her together.
“You’re seventeen so I want you to think about the two things any average teenager would think about at your age,” Dr. Das told her as they walked out towards the main door. “First – think specifically about not what you wanted to do with your life, but what you can see yourself doing now. What is something you could get passionate about, something you could truly believe in doing? Think about that.”
Amara nodded, willing to work on that. She wanted to know herself and learn this new girl she had become, whoever she was.
“And?” she asked, opening the door to the house, knowing Vin would be waiting to drive her back home. She wasn’t comfortable driving yet.
“And I want you to think about the young man waiting for you.”
Amara frowned, turning her neck to see who she was talking about.
Dante. Dante in a suit, leaning against the side of his Range Rover, eyes hidden behind shades, waiting for her.
He was waiting for her.
“I specifically want you to think about what you feel for him.”
Amara watched him standing there in the middle of the day, the boy who had been her dream, the man who had become her reality, the one who had carried her into the light every single day when her body couldn’t move, the one who had made her smile through her nightmare time and time again, the one who had kissed her scar and looked at her like she was a treasure. Amara looked at him, waiting for her, and she knew.
She was in love with Dante Maroni.
“You’re unusually quiet,” Dante noted as he drove them back. “The session went okay?”