“I’m afraid.” I swallow the lump growing in my throat. “I’m afraid that something is going to remind me about everything, and I’m going to snap again.”
“That’s what the meds are for.”
“So I’ll have to be on antidepressants for the rest of my life?”
“We could try to wean you off of them if you’d like.” I’m surprised how casually she responds.
“Is that dangerous?” I ask.
“Not if you’re honest with yourself and with me. You had triggers that day, but you did nothing about them. You’re aware now of what could happen.”
“I am. And I won’t let that happen again.” I won’t. I don’t want to die. I didn’t live through all of that to end my own life.
“I’m very proud of you, Ava. Not many people are able to get a good look at themselves the way that you have.”
“Thank you,” I respond, although I feel awkward. I’m not proud. I’m ashamed.
“How’s your scar?” she asks, as her eyes dart to my shoulder. It’s a warm day outside, so my skin is exposed.
“One more treatment left to go, but I can’t even see it.” The surgeon said there was a small amount of scar tissue still, but I can’t see a damn thing. It makes me smile. I’m happy I never got the tattoo. It would have been a constant reminder. This is so much better.
“That’s wonderful.” She jots something down before looking back up at me. “And your weight? Is that back to normal now?”
“I’m still finding it difficult to eat.” It’s been hard for me to gain weight.
She purses her lips and writes some more. I hate it when she does that. Usually I know what she’s writing. But her pen keeps going and I find myself trying to read the fucking novel she’s writing.
“You’re looking well though, Ava. Are you feeling better as a whole?”
“I am.” I started jogging again. I used to fucking hate it. My sister used to make me go with her. It’s nice though. I can see why she liked it. I don’t know why she dragged my ass out along with her though. I don’t want company when I’m running. I just like the music, the feeling of being free. The burn of my muscles.
It wears my ass out though.
“Good. Let’s move on. How about work? How has it been integrating with your coworkers?”
I fucking hate my coworkers. I need to find something other than working as a clerk at the hardware store. I can’t wait for classes to start up.
I take a deep breath and think about Mindy. She’s the only one I freaking talk to because of our shifts. She’s a little firecracker, and I like her. But she’s also a ho. She’s currently sleeping with Jeremy, who’s the store manager. And also the boyfriend of Tammy who works in the stockroom and orders supplies.
“It’s just like any other retail job,” I finally answer. I’m pretty sure that’s not true. But I don’t want this to become a bitch session.
Kane got me a job at a restaurant, but I turned it down. I was going to withdraw from the university too, before classes even started; he convinced me not to, though. I’m grateful for that. I’m really looking forward to it.
I pushed the chance at going back to school away at first, because Kane was paying for it. But one of Vince’s men, Tony I think, tracked down my father’s money and wired it to me. I half wondered if it’s really my father’s, but I stopped putting effort into thinking about it.
I got the money a few days ago and I want to quit this shit job, but I feel like I need to be a part of the real world again. I really fucking hate that petty drama though.
Kane told me once that I could get a job at the restaurant whenever I wanted. He also said I could move back in with him and not have to work, or do whatever the fuck I wanted.
It’s so tempting, but I keep pushing him away.
I thought I needed to be apart from him. But I miss him so damn much.
I haven’t cried for him in over a week. I haven’t called him. I haven’t even seen him in over a week. Sometimes when I’m walking to a nearby café on my lunch break, I swear I feel his eyes on me. But when I turn around, no one’s there. It breaks my fucking heart every time.
“What are you thinking now?” Dr. Mae asks, and it pulls me from my thoughts.
I don’t want to admit it, but I tell the truth. That’s the only way I’ll get better.
“About Kane.” I swallow. “I miss him.”
She nods her head and scribbles something in her notebook. “Any more late night calls?”
“No. I haven’t seen him in over a week now.” She cocks a brow as she writes more in that damn book.
“I see. And have you thought about seeing him?” she asks as though she thinks it would be alright.
The word falls out of my mouth easily. “Yes.” I’ve thought of him holding me. Almost every night I try to remember our nights together so I can focus on a bit of happiness. The sweet moments of passion. I know he loves me. I think he loves me.
“Is it wrong that I care for him so much?” I ask her.
“You’ve asked me that before.” She places her glasses onto the table and reaches for her cup of coffee. “I think it’s reasonable to idolize him. I think it’s natural that you developed feelings for him. The question is, why do you think it’s so wrong?”
“I started having feelings for him before I was capable of leaving on my own.”
She nods her head. “And after?”
“After what?” I ask.
“After you left him? The feelings are still there, yes?”
“Yes.” My hand flies to my heart as an ache radiates through my chest. Every moment I remember I left him, it hurts. It hurts so fucking much. I know I hurt him. He saved me, and I fucking killed him by leaving him.
“What would you do if you could see him right now?”
Fuck him. I would hold him, I would kiss him, I would beg him to fuck me. I purse my lips and the good doctor smirks at me. Am I that obvious?
“Do you still think he deserves better?” she asks. I don’t know the answer. I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely whole again. I may forever be haunted. And he deserves better than that. He’s a good man.
She leans forward and looks me in the eyes. “Or maybe a better question to ask is, do you think you deserve happiness?”
Kane
“How’s she doing?” I hear Anthony ask. I turn on my barstool to look at him. He’s a lean fucker compared to me, not real bulky, but I’ve learned over the past few weeks that he’s not someone you wanna fuck with. If you’re doing shit you aren’t supposed to be doing, having Anthony knocking on your door at night is a bad fucking omen.
But I like him. When he’s not working, he’s sitting down and having a beer. He’s pretty chill. Everyone’s still on edge about Tommy though. As I think his name, he walks through the doors of the bar with Vince. We watch as they come up to our right and sit on Anthony’s side.
The bar goes quiet as they take a seat. Everyone’s waiting for something to happen with this case. But it’s gonna take time. There’s only so much postponing and bribing will get him.
“She’s alright.” I answer Anthony as Tommy orders a beer. It’s on the bar before he even finishes, along with Vince’s Jack.
“Ava?” Vince calls out, from the far end of our row. It’s a curved bar so I’ve got a good view of him.
“Yeah.” I don’t volunteer more info. I don’t want to talk about it. I watch my phone every time there’s an alert that she’s home. I know her appointments and work schedules, too. I feel like a fucking creep at this point. In the beginning I was worried about her. We all were. But the better she is, the less she seems to be thinking about me.
I keep waiting to hear her call out for me. I prayed that I’d have a reason to help her. But for over a week, it’s been nothing.
“I don’t like that manager fucker either. He likes to get around,” Vince says from across the bar. They think it’s funny. I lost my shit the other night and they keep holding
it over my head.
I grit my teeth. If that bastard makes another pass at Ava, I’m gonna knock his fucking teeth out. She’s such a good girl though, she doesn’t even realize it.
The guys laugh when they see my reaction. But there’s no humor in it for me. I think it’s time I came to grips with reality.
She doesn’t want me. Why would she?
“I never should’ve touched her,” I bite out, and grab the neck of my beer. I take a swig and then another.
“I don’t think it’s like that, Kane,” Vince says. Tommy and Anthony nod their heads.
“I should’ve waited.” I put the bottle down feeling like a fucking failure. Like an asshole. She wasn’t okay, and I was so wrapped up in her that I didn’t even see it. I took advantage of her. I don’t deserve her.
That’s why I’m giving her the space she needs. She genuinely needs me to be gone to get through this. Fuck. It fucking kills me that seeing my face, feeling my hands on her, or hearing my voice would remind her of that hell. I took her pain away, or at least I thought I did. I wonder if I just made it worse. I fell for her too soon. I loved her when she couldn’t possibly love me. Not in a healthy way at least.
Every time I start to think she’s mine and I need to go get her, I have to remind myself that it’s too much like what they did to her. I need to wait until she’s better. And then she’ll come back to me. We’ll work through this together. I’m not giving up though. I know she felt something for me. I just have to wait until it’s the right time. I need some sort of sign.
“Stop pouting like a little bitch,” Tommy groans out. “Jesus, I’m the one getting 50 to life.”
I glare at him. I’m not a Valetti. I shouldn’t even be in this bar. But I’m gonna beat the fucking piss out of him if he keeps it up.
“Just go get her, Kane,” Tommy says.
“Her shrink says it’s alright, right?” Anthony asks. Shame washes over me, along with a little guilt. I may have bugged Ava’s purse. And I may have deliberately listened to her first few sessions. But I’ve been better about giving her space. I was just worried since I hadn’t seen her.
But she was fine. She just didn’t want me.
“The doc isn’t why she’s not seeing me.” I roll the empty bottle between my palms and nod when the bartender asks if I want another.
“You want her?” Vince asks.
I stare at him dead in the eyes. “Fuck yeah, I want her.”
“Go get her.”
“What if I’m the reason for that shit?” That’s what it all boils down to, really. If I’m the one triggering all her pain, how can I expect her to stay with me?
“What if you’re not?” he asks back. “What if you let her go, and you never find out?”
“Look at you,” Anthony says, elbowing Tommy as they snicker at Vince. “We've got a fucking romantic over here.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Vince spits back with a grin. “I’m just saying, I think she’d make a great addition to the family. Mostly ‘cause my wife likes her.”
“What do you mean ‘addition’?” I question him.
“You’re not a made man yet, Kane. It’s gonna take time to put in your dues.” He points his finger at me and raises his voice. “But you sure as fuck are a Valetti.” I hear a few guys let out a cheer and one asshole claps. Poor fucker, everyone looks at him, but he just picks up his beer and smiles.
“Thanks, Vince.” I push out the words. It means a lot to be a member of the Valettis and have a family around me again. But it’s all worth nothing if Ava won’t be a part of it with me.
“She will,” Anthony says, as if he read my mind. “Just go get her.”
He says it like it’s that easy. In the past it was. If I wanted something, I just went and got it.
But this is different. If she says no, then nothing else matters.
Ava
“I’ll see you in a month, unless you need me sooner,” Dr. Mae says, as I walk to the door. I give her a tight smile and nod. I still don’t know how I feel about it. Over the past month our meetings have been fewer and fewer. Now it’ll be a month before I see her again. Unless I have a relapse. I haven’t though, since switching meds. Nothing other than normal emotional reactions, as the doctor says.
I feel insecure, but I suppose it’s normal. There aren’t any guarantees in life. My eyes fall to the floor as I shut the door behind me. Like Kane. I haven’t gathered up the courage to call him. I haven’t spoken a word to him in weeks. When I did talk to him before, it was just sobs and pleas to hold me or leave me.
I can’t imagine what his reaction would be if I called him now. If I said I was better and asked him to take me back.
He said he loved me. I feel an unbearable pain in my heart as a thought occurs to me.
I never said it back. I never told him how I felt.
As I walk down the stairs to leave the office building, I pass the clinic. I purse my lips remembering what Dr. Mae said about the nausea. I may have a stubborn bug.
Whatever it is, I need this shit taken care of. I want to eat. I’m hungry all the fucking time now. I pull the doors open and feel relief wash over me. Not a soul in the waiting room. Good, I can get in and I can get out.
I walk straight to the counter and see a young woman with blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail and coral painted nails tapping on the keys of her laptop. After a short moment, she looks up at me with a bright smile and asks, “Can I help you?”
“Hi there, I think I have the flu or something, and I just wanted a checkup.”
“Absolutely, I just need you to fill out these forms first, please.” She chomps on a piece of gum in her mouth and hands me a clipboard with a pen clamped at the top. I forgot about this shit. I just want to walk back there and get a prescription. Instead I give her a small smile and walk back to the waiting area to take a seat. I scroll through the lines and fill out the bare minimum.
I stare at the emergency contacts section for a long time. I want to put Kane down; I have no one else.
I want to call him, but I’m scared. I don’t know what I’d do if he’s moved on. I take in a shaky breath and calm my emotions.
I fucking love him. I can’t deny it anymore. Whether it’s right or wrong, I don’t know.
But I do love him. I just need to gather up the courage to tell him. I pick up my phone and click it on and then off. Not now. Right now I need to get some meds to get rid of this fucking bug.
I fill out five fucking pages of the same thing and wait an ungodly amount of time before I’m called back. At least the doctor is there in the hall waiting for me.
“Miss Ivanov. Nice to meet you.” He ushers me through the door to an exam room and then says, “Have a seat.”
I hop up onto the exam table with crinkly paper on top. It still feels unsanitary to me, though.
“So what brings you in today, Ava?” The doctor is an old man. He has to be in his 60s, if not older. The lines around his eyes make him seem approachable and kind. He has the palest blue eyes; they remind me of my father. My heart swells with cheerful memories and then the happiness dims.
I push the thoughts away and return to the present. “I think I have a bug. I’ve been having a difficult time holding food down for a month or so now.”
“I see. Any other symptoms with your nausea? Sore throat? Indigestion?”
I shake my head no. He takes a quick look down at my tummy and asks, “Is there a chance that you could be pregnant?”
His question steals the life from me. Everything stills and my breath halts in my chest. Those fuckers gave me so many shots, the assholes who drugged me, tattooed me and chipped me, but I know they said one was birth control. I know they did. They weren’t talking to me, but it would make sense.
“Would you like to take a test?” he asks, snapping me out of the painful memory.
“Please,” I answer without thinking. He reaches over to a cupboard above a small sink and grabs a small plastic cup. He’s a short
man so he has to stretch to reach. I hesitantly take it and exit the room absentmindedly.
Why the fuck didn’t this cross my mind before? Mid-walk I’m struck with horror.
“Pills!” I yell in the hallway, like a fucking lunatic. The doctor exits the exam room and stares at me with his eyebrows raised. I dig in my purse and pull out the prescription bottle. I shove them into his hands like they’re poison.
He stares at the bottle for the longest fucking time. He rotates it and takes his time reading every last fucking word.
My heart won’t beat until I hear him tell me something. I need to know if I hurt my baby. If my own fucking problems hurt my child before he was even born.
Finally, the doctor gives me a smile and hands the bottle back as he reassures me. “You’ll be fine. And so will the baby, if you’re pregnant.” He walks a few steps and gestures to an open door.
“Thank you,” I say just above a murmur. My hand rests subconsciously on my belly.
I close the door and take a single breath before my skirt’s around my ankles.
The stream hits my hand and I cuss before getting as much urine as I can into the tiny cup. My nerves are getting the best of me, but I know it’s true. It all makes sense.
I wipe down and wash my hands before wiping the outside of the cup and staring at it. It’s a tiny cup of pee and it could tell me that my world is about to change forever.
It only takes a minute once I’m back into the room for the colors to start showing.
Two lines.
“Congratulations! We’ve found the source of your nausea. It usually eases up around the second trimester.” The old man gives me a smile.
“How far along am I?” I ask. That matters. That really fucking matters.
“Well, that’s hard to say. You’ll have to make an appointment with your gynecologist for an ultrasound for more specificity.”
I nearly cringe. Technically I have one now. But I haven’t gone to see them for anything other than to pee in a cup and take blood. I had to make sure I was healthy after everything I'd been through, after all. But they never said a damn thing about being pregnant.
Good Girl: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) Page 15
