“I enjoy many other things you do.”
She tilted her head back again, urging me to kiss her. Desire burned bright when she sighed into my lips on purpose. A cheeky smile on her lips gave away that she knew what a turn on that was. She was toying with me, teasing me to take her right there on the couch.
Your wish is my command, baby doll.
CHAPTER 21
NADIA
Scream here
“What was the scariest part of Adrian’s abuse?” James asked, chewing on a pencil, a notepad in hand.
It was eleven am on Christmas Eve, and James chose to celebrate the fact with a casual outfit. He dressed down, choosing jeans and a warm, knitted jumper that looked like it belonged in the eighties.
I almost called to cancel the session. Thomas left it until the last minute to inform me about the Christmas party at C&G Records, but he didn’t let me skip therapy in favour of looking through my wardrobe.
“Was it the fear?”
I shook my head. “Fear was the most disarming feeling. When Adrian came back home high, I was instantly paralysed, too scared to even make a sound, but fear wasn’t the worst part. Peace was.”
James’s brows furrowed. “Elaborate.”
“Every time Adrian hit me, I ran to Ty. He kept me sane but couldn’t calm me down. Maybe it was because I didn’t trust him to protect me… I stayed with him until the morning, when Adrian would come over to apologise. Those moments when he walked through the doorsoberwere the worst.”
The door to Ty’s bedroom burst open, and Adrian appeared in the doorway, dark circles under his eyes. The aftereffects of using PCP were always the same. His body trembled, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. His chest rose and fell fast, each breath shallow, face red due to the elevated blood pressure. Sometimes, if he was gone for the whole weekend, he would vomit for three days straight after the high wore off. Other times, he couldn’t recall that he left at all.
Ty let go of me when I tried to sit. We spent the night like many before—cuddled in his bed. He stayed awake, but no longer tried to convince me to leave Adrian. He knew it wouldn’t work.
I looked into Adrian’s black eyes, his pupils small, as if the room was too bright despite the closed blinds. Tears welled in the comers of my eyes… tears ofreliefwhen a sense of serenity washed over me like holy water. He was sober; he came to get me.
Maybe, just maybe, this time was the last time.
Adrian didn’t speak until Ty left the room, passing him as if he were thin air. Adrian came closer, dropped on the bed and nestled his head on my stomach, tears wetting the yellow fabric of Ty’s t-shirt I wore.
“Help me,” he uttered, wrapping his arms around my middle. “Help me, puppet.”
James waited patiently until I stopped daydreaming. He was used to it by now. I dived headfirst into memories during every session.
“I relaxed seeing his sorrow,” I said. “Calmness washed over me every time because I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. In my head, a thick line divides sober Adrian and Adrian on drugs. They’re two different people.”
“There is no line, Nadia. Sober Adrian chooses to get high. They’re one person. One can’t exist without the other.” He scribbled in his notepad and looked up again. “It would be a good idea to bring Thomas along to our sessions after New Year. He should understand what co-dependency is. It’ll be easier for him to help you recover.”
I shook my head, crossing my arms. “No. We’re keeping Thomas out of this. I don’t want him to worry. I have to do this alone.”
“No, you don’t. It’ll be easier if you let people in. You told them the truth, now accept their help. Co-dependency is difficult to tackle because it can seem so innocent to the other person. Thomas should know the signs; like that, he won’t unintentionally exploit your weaknesses. He loves you, and I’m sure he wants to help, Nadia.”
I hated it when people were right.
“I’ll think about it. Now, if you don’t mind, we can call it a day.”
“Sure. I’ll see you on Monday, right?”
“Yes.” I slipped my coat on and took a small box out of my bag. “Merry Christmas.”
He tore the red and gold wrapping paper apart to reveal a white box. Inside was a mug that read:Psychiatrist. Not a magician, but I understand your confusion.
“You’ve got superpowers,” I said, enjoying the smile on his face. “Thank you.”