Problematic Love by Lara Ward Cosio

Author:Lara Ward Cosio [Cosio, Lara Ward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Rogue Publications
Published: 2019-04-27T16:00:00+00:00

29

Amelia

* * *

I’m in that delicate state of slipping into true sleep after having hovered near it for too long when I hear shouting in the street outside my bedroom window. Turning so my back is to the window, I try to block out the noise. It’s likely a pair of hooligans on their way home from the pub after closing time, though I don’t dare to look at the time. I’ve already stared at those digital numbers far too often, unable to quiet my mind enough to sleep.

I’d reacted badly after dinner with Gavin and Sophie was over. I should have taken the opportunity to apologize to Daniel for letting that analysis of him slip out. But I was too shaken over why I’d done it at all, too worried that it meant I wasn’t capable of separating our past therapy relationship with a personal relationship. I chose not to deal with it at all.

Not that that has worked very well, as evidenced by the fact that I can’t sleep. And now it’s not just my thoughts that are keeping me up, but the persistent yelling coming from down below. Rolling onto my back, I open my eyes and stare at the pale-blue ceiling. That’s when I finally recognize the words that are being shouted in an elaborate sing-song.

“Ooooooh, Ms. Paaaatterson. Ooooooh, Ms. Paaaatterson. Ooooooh, Ms. Paaaatterson.”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. Sitting up, I throw the covers off, rush to the window, and pull up the shades.

Daniel is in the middle of the street, swaying on his feet as he thrusts his arms out to me.

“There she is!” he says. “There’s my one and only . . . my one and only what?”

Pushing open the window, the contrast between my warm bedroom and the cold air outside makes me catch my breath. “Keep your voice down,” I whisper-yell. “You’d better come in. Let me just—”

“What are you to me?” he slurs. “Are you my girlfriend, Amelia? Or are you still playing therapist, Ms. Patterson, just like you did with Felicity?”

I take in a breath so sharply it hurts my chest. The quick breath isn’t what’s really to blame for the pain, though. It’s his words. His accusation.

“Well?” he calls.

I shush him and say, “Just go, now. I can’t do this.”

He leans over, and I can tell he’s doing that disturbing thing where he slaps his open hand against the side of his head. I want to go to him to stop this behavior, but I’m still stinging from his apparent effort to hurt me. Because he has to know he’d be hurting me by claiming I’ve done with him what I did with Felicity. He’s suggesting I’ve manipulated him into a relationship, all so I can covertly give him therapy. I know I’ve done no such thing, but the fact that he’d entertain the idea, especially knowing how distraught I’ve been over my mistakes with Felicity, stings.

Dropping his hand, he straightens up and I can see tears shining in his eyes.

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