Make Me Forget: an Enemies to Lovers Romance by Monica Corwin

Author:Monica Corwin [Corwin, Monica]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-03-11T18:30:00+00:00

Mental Health

Mara

When I made the appointment at the local rehab center, they did not mention anything about a group. I couldn’t talk about my feelings to myself, let alone a group of randos with their own laundry list of issues. Not that I’m judging anyone for their illness or vices. I don’t take well to sharing. Never have. It’s been hard enough with Murphy.

I could not believe I said what I said. The second it came out, I backpedaled as fast as possible, but the words were out. He smiled with teeth even, and I couldn’t deny it in the face of all that. Instead, I did what I always do: evade and change the subject.

I spent another sexless night alone and woke up early to get to the clinic fifteen minutes earlier than I should have been there. Thank you Army brainwashing. It would seem even if my entire military career had been wiped away with one little bullet, the muscle memory and anxiety about being on time stayed ingrained.

The taxi driver forced me out of his car after I made him stay parked in front of the building for ten minutes, dreading walking in the door. Hospitals still scared me. The smell always reminded me of the operations, the pain, the loneliness. I hoped this place didn’t have a plastic chemical aroma which sticks to the back of my throat.

When I needed to force myself into something, I created steps in my mind. Step one: enter the damn building. Step two: sign in and find out where to go. When I made it to step three and they pointed me toward group therapy for wounded vets, I wanted to run.

Murphy’s words came back to me. Telling me in no uncertain terms I would never get laid, or truly be with him, until I tackled this. I knew he held back from me, and not just the sex stuff. All of it. The high school memories were still intact, and even back then, he’d always looked out for everyone else before himself. Something so fundamental to a person wouldn’t change with adulthood.

So basically, he wouldn’t sleep with me out of some respect for my mental state. Which, I’ll grant him, is pretty jacked up no matter how much I tried to deny it to others.

I stepped into the room and found a pot of coffee and water bottles to one side and seven chairs in a circle at the center of the room.

A tall man with a slight limp in his mid to late thirties approached with a wide smile and high top haircut. He held out his hand, and I caught the good ol’ boy charm radiating from the man. “You must be Williams. Or if you prefer, Mara?”

I shook his hand and sized him up. At least over six foot tall. His jeans bunched up around his knee, and I’d bet a prosthetic fit to his thigh. And to be honest, I envied him for a second.

Mental wounds didn’t show themselves to others like missing limbs or torn up flesh.

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