Dead of Night (Sloane Monroe) by Cheryl Bradshaw

Author:Cheryl Bradshaw [Cheryl Bradshaw]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pixie Publishing
Published: 2015-11-16T07:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 9

Recently I’d started seeing a shrink. Not often, just enough to keep the panic part out of the attack. Having my life dissected was on the top of my list of things I swore I’d never do, but as it turned out, Elodie was no average therapist. She was considerate and unassuming. Two words I never thought about when the word “therapist” came to mind.

I was angry.

And bitter.

And hurt.

Too hurt to talk about my feelings in a rational way, so I didn’t make an appointment. Instead I considered what Elodie would say if I was in her office at this very moment. She’d listen, even if it meant my constant jabbering took up the entire hour. Then she’d ask a few questions to get at the real root of the problem, which, in the end, would not be about Cade but about myself and my own sensitivity about what was happening. Then I’d put myself in his place, try to see things from his point of view. Hurt and anger was a two-way street, and if I was being honest, really honest, we both had cause to feel the way we did.

Cade had never been angry with me before. Not like this. In the past, the way I handled disgruntled men was either to avoid them or run. I cared too much for Cade to do either. So I returned home, but I didn’t go in. I sat in front of the house in my car, trying to find a way past what was happening.

I believed Wren was innocent.

I also believed if I kept pursuing it, I might end up with a vacancy in the boyfriend department.

The front door opened and closed. Shelby, who had been peeking out the kitchen window every five minutes for the past half hour, walked to the passenger side of my car and got in.

“So … how’s it going?” she asked.

“It’s … going.”

“You comin’ in sometime, or …?”

“Eventually. I’m just trying to sort a few things out first.”

“Right. Well, my dad’s doing that too.”

I faced her. “How can you tell?”

“He talks to himself when he’s frustrated. He thinks I can’t hear him rambling on, but I can.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You shouldn’t have to be involved in this, in what’s going on with us.”

A tear splashed down her cheek. Embarrassed, she wiped it away.

I took her hand in mine. “Hey, don’t worry. Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Leave? I’m not going anywhere.”

She smiled. “You’re like a mother to me, Sloane. I mean, my mother wasn’t really ever a mother, so …”

The first time I met Shelby, she’d run away from home and broken into my house after a feud she’d had with her father. Since that time, she’d gone from rebellious teen to the beginnings of what I was certain would become an outstanding young woman.

“No matter what happens between your dad and me, I will always be here for you.”

“Wait, are you guys breaking up?”

More tears.

Open mouth, insert foot.

“We’re fine, Shelby. I love your father.

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