“We’re making a bubble room. Would you like to help?”
All eyes, young and old, turned to her. She didn’t want to be the center of attention, and she was about to retreat when Lee spoke again. “C’mon,” he said, waving her over. “You’re probably better at this than I am.”
She blinked at his words, searching for the layered meaning, but Wren found herself stepping forward and taking the pulley rope from him. He was so close she could feel the heat from his body, and to push this from her mind, she turned to the two girls.
“Ready?”
They both nodded, smiles unhinged. She pulled and watched the sheen of soap stretch just a few inches before it popped.
“Try again,” Lee said, keeping his eyes on the ring. “Slower this time.”
Wren rolled her eyes, lowered the ring back into the soap, and… more slowly… tugged on the rope. The girls giggled as it stretched above their waists, but, almost in slow motion, the membrane separated itself from the ring.
“Again. Even slower.”
Wren shot him a look. “I need to be careful,” she muttered so only he could hear. “You’ll brainwash me like you did everyone else.”
She only had a moment to appreciate the look of shock on his face before he recovered. “That’s not brainwashing. It’s love.”
“Puh,” she scoffed. “They don’t even know why they’re here,” she said, lifting the ring a third time, moving slow and steady until the bubble rose above the girls’ heads, leaving them sheathed in an undulating wall of wonder. The bubble held even as they cheered.
“Nice,” Lee said, nodding. “And they do know why they’re here. They’re here for you.”
Wren took her eyes off the bubble wall and focused on Lee. “And why am I here?”
Lee nodded toward the bubble ring. “For this.”
At that moment, the bubble wall popped, and the girls jumped up and down in triumph.
“Was that fun?” Lee asked them.
“Yeah!” they cheered in unison. Livvy hopped off the pad, and Sissy followed.
“Hold on a minute, girls,” Lee called after them. “Before you go, tell Ms. Wren, here, how old you are.”
Wren frowned at this strange command.
“I’m five!” Sissy exclaimed, holding up a pudgy hand, all fingers splayed.
“And I’m six-and-a-half,” Livvy affirmed. She was a few inches taller than Sissy, but together they couldn’t weigh even one hundred pounds.
“Six-and-a-half?” Lee echoed, admiration rich in his voice. “My goodness, that’s grown up.” Lee’s gaze slanted toward Wren.
“What are you doing?” she asked, almost inaudibly.
He held her look, his own voice dropping. “I’m trying to show you something.”
Wren looked back at the girls as they scampered toward the bubble trough. They were so little. Just babies, really. Five and six-and-a-half.
Six-and-a-half.
As she stared, the air in her lungs dried up. In fact, so did all the air in the room. In the whole museum. Her lungs pumped in and out, but nothing moved through them. Her lips started to tingle. The room swayed.
“Wren.” Lee gripped her arm. “You’re hyperventilating. Slow your breath.”
But she just shook her head and rasped. “No air… I have to get out.”
“Let’s go,” he said with a nod, and then he was pulling her toward the exit, which was good since her quads spasmed. Without his help, she may have just crumpled to the floor.
Outside, there was sunlight and less people, but still no air. Certain she’d pass out any second, Wren grasped for the wall, and Lee steered her toward it.
“I’m going to faint…” she warned.
“I’ll catch you,” Lee promised.
Her fingers scraped against the bricks, and Lee turned her to face him.
“I’m going to cover your mouth.” His voice was impossibly calm, and before she could fight him off, he sealed his hand over her mouth. “And I’m going to pinch your nose a little to slow your breathing.”
His thumb closed one nostril as Wren’s fingernails dug into the flesh of his hand. He didn’t flinch. She tried to beg him to let her breathe, but only a muffled whimper escaped.
“You’re okay. You need to build up carbon dioxide. Just take a minute, Wren.” His voice was so steady, and his eyes were so sure. Wren locked on the certainty in their bottomless blue and breathed.
At first, nothing changed. The tingling had spread to her cheeks and hands, and her chest hurt. She was having some kind of cardio-pulmonary failure, and death surely beckoned. Wren realized the last thing she’d see would be Lee’s face.
That’s not such a bad thing.
“You’re not going to die,” Lee whispered, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile as he read her mind. “I’ve got you.”
And, indeed, he had. The hand that wasn’t stifling her breath had hooked around her middle, anchoring her to him. His thighs, firm and real, pressed against hers that still trembled and twitched. His fingers on her lips and nose were warm, rough. Alive.
The grounding of his touch penetrated her as the proper mix of oxygen and carbon dioxide made its way into her bloodstream. Wren discovered she wasn’t about to die.
At least not from lack of air.
Mortification, on the other hand, could be lethal.
She pulled back enough to speak, and her voice shook, though she tried to keep it even. “What are you doing to me?”
Fingers that had covered her mouth now caressed her cheek. “I’m trying to show you that you’re worth it.” He said the words with absolute conviction. “Worth the fight — even if it’s an uphill battle for the rest of my life. And worth the risk, because with you, there’s always the chance I’ll get my ass handed to me.”
His eyes searched hers, but she wasn’t ready to give anything away. Lee’s hands moved to her shoulders, and he clasped her gently.
“I brought you here so that maybe you could see things a little differently.”
Wren frowned, unwilling to yield any ground. “What do you mean?”
He held her gaze, unblinking. “You can trust me… Tell me what set you off in there.”
She looked away, her focus landing on the asphalt near their feet.
“Wren… it’s all right. Tell me.”
She closed her eyes. “I can’t.”
Lee sighed. “Then let me tell you what I think happened. You saw those girls in there, and for a moment, you understood how little and vulnerable a six-year-old is,” he said, his words forcing her eyes back to his. “And that is exactly what I wanted you to see. I wanted you to see yourself.”
He gripped her shoulders, frowning with a look so stricken Wren wanted to reach up and comfort him.
“And, for once in your life, I want you to have mercy on yourself.” On the last word, he shook her — just once, lightly — but Wren could feel his desperation. Nothing else seemed to matter to him. Nothing was more important to him than reaching her now.
She couldn’t process that moment in the museum. She couldn’t logically connect the little girls in the bubble with the child she used to be, but as Wren looked into Lee’s eyes, she understood what he’d tried to do for her. What he’d wanted for her.
She didn’t know what to do next, but she knew she couldn’t run away.
Shaking all over, Wren managed to get the words out. “What happens now?”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
WREN’S STRENGTH BLEW him away.
He’d put her through so much in the last hour, and she’d taken it all. Still, Lee had known Wren was tough the moment he’d met her in the emergency room more than a month ago. It didn’t surprise him, but just like then, it left him in awe.
If she could only take the next step with him…
“I’ve been talking to someone who I think could help.”
Her face paled. “You mean a shrink.”
Lee took in a measured breath. “I mean a the
rapist. Her name is Evelyn, and I think you’d like her.”
Wren stared at him without blinking. Her guarded expression didn’t change. Seconds passed, and Lee told himself to stay quiet. He knew all too well how easily she could spook.
“When?” she asked finally.
His breath left him with a rush of relief. She hadn’t thrown the idea in his face, which was good because it was the only plan he had. The only way he knew how to help her. But they weren’t in the clear yet.
“Well… I — You could see her today — if you’re ready… or you could visit her next week,” he stammered as he spoke, unsure how she’d respond to the fact that he’d made appointments for her. “I took the liberty of booking a few appointments in case you were willing to see her.”
Wren’s eyebrows rose slightly at this news, but, to his relief, she didn’t look angry. She studied him for a moment, and then a look of distress rippled across her features.
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
The question struck him like a power surge. “My God, no.” Lee pulled her against his chest and wrapped his arms around her. “Of course not.”
It took a moment, but her body softened against his — just a little — and her arms came up around him. It felt so good. He needed her to understand that he was the crazy one — or he would be if she pushed him away again.
“You’re not crazy. You’ve been hurting for a long time, and now you’re going to do something about it. That’s sane, Wren. That’s healthy.”
He felt her face tilt up against his chest, and he peered down at her, smiling at the sight.
“Are you doing this because you feel sorry for me?”
Her fears marked the contours around her green eyes, and Lee brought up a hand to brace her chin. He pressed his lips to hers and drank in the sweet reunion. It had been a crushing four days, and the relief of having her in his arms, of tasting her impossibly soft lips was almost too much for him. He let Wren feel his hunger, but he held the kiss in check before pulling back again.
“Did that feel like pity?” he asked, meeting her eyes again.
Wren blushed. “No…” But she worried her lips between her teeth and gazed up at him, looking like a woman who had everything to lose. “I want to trust you.”
“I want that, too.” He tightened his arms around her. “I promise you this… I’ll never give you a reason to regret it.”
She held his gaze, and her body softened a little more — the way it had with the first of their kisses. She nodded, finally, and Lee felt her grip the back of his shirt as though she braced herself.
“Will you come with me?”
THEY SAT IN a hushed waiting room of earth tones and warm lighting. The space was small and, thank goodness, empty. Wren clutched his hand as they perched on a loveseat — perched, because she could not sit back and relax, and so Lee wouldn’t either.
An hour had passed since they left the museum, leaving her bike in the care of her friends and going together in his Jeep. But as they waited, Wren grew more rigid with each moment. They probably should have skipped the coffee at Johnston Street Java, but they’d needed to kill time somehow.
“Have you met her?” she asked, staring at the door.
“Yes.”
“What’s she like?”
Lee drew in a slow breath. “Like… someone at peace.”
Wren’s eyes cut from the door back to him. “You mean like all hippy-dippy-flower-child?”
“God no.” Lee laughed, making Wren smile. “Just… like…” Lee struggled to find the right words. His one meeting with Evelyn had left him with the sense that she was the kind of person who could create a space for other people. One that was free of judgment, but not neutral. Definitely full of healing. “Like someone safe.”
Wren seemed to like this answer because she nodded and let go a sigh. Just then, the soft click of a doorknob made them both go still, and Evelyn Reed stood before them. Wearing a camel duster over an olive-green dress, she seemed as calming as her waiting room. Lee exhaled in relief because there was nothing hippy-dippy about her. Just an air of quiet competence and compassion.
“Hello, Wren. Lee,” she said, acknowledging them both. “Wren, won’t you come in.”
Wren gripped his hand and went rigid. “C-can he come with me?”
Evelyn only smiled, unfazed by this request. “Of course.”
She turned and led the way down a short hall. Wren still gripped Lee’s hand. She didn’t need to worry. He’d never let go on his own. His chest filled with pride at the step she was taking. He wanted to tell her as much before they slipped into Evelyn’s office, but there wasn’t time. The therapist offered them a seat on the beige sofa where he’d first met with her, and as Evelyn closed the door behind them, Lee’s eyes met Wren’s.
“I love you,” he mouthed, unable to keep the words to himself any longer. She blushed and fought a smile, and it was all he needed. The fact that she had come here with him, held his hand, and wanted him by her side meant everything.
Evelyn sat across from them and settled her hands in her lap, facing Wren. “Wren, I’m sure that Lee told you we’ve spoken already.”
“Yes.” Wren nodded. “He has.”
“Good. I don’t want there to be any mystery or misunderstanding about that, so in a few minutes, we’ll go over everything we discussed. All right?” Her words were direct, but her voice was soft.
“Okay.” Wren’s eyes moved between Evelyn and Lee, and Lee nodded, glad that the therapist was beginning with a clean slate.
“Good. Now, I understand that the two of you are at the beginning of a relationship, and it seems as though it’s a very important relationship to Lee.” Evelyn’s eyes glanced at him. “And I—”
“It’s important to both of us,” Wren said, squeezing his hand.
Grinning like an idiot, Lee squeezed back. With her words and her touch, hope opened up his future.
Evelyn smiled, too. “Yes, I can see that’s true. Wonderful. I should be clear about something,” she began. “Lee offered to cover the cost of your treatment, but I believe that you should not feel that your recovery is tethered to your new relationship, so I am going to offer my services pro bono for the first six—”
“I can pay for it myself,” Wren said. She looked back at Lee, conviction in her eyes. “I want to.”
Again, Evelyn smiled. “Excellent. Then let’s talk a little bit about what I know of your history and how compassion therapy could help you.”
The hour-long session seemed to pass in seconds, and before Lee knew it, Wren was scheduling a second appointment in a few days’ time. The session had gone well. Nothing miraculous had occurred, and no great discoveries had been made. In fact, other than Evelyn’s brief recounting of what Lee had told her of Wren’s childhood, the therapist spent most of the hour talking about her technique, going over a few exercises she wanted Wren to practice, and simply getting to know her patient.
There were no amazing breakthroughs, but Lee could see that Wren could let go with Evelyn. Her posture, the muscles in her face, the softness around her eyes all said Wren liked her, that her guard had come down, and she’d continue with the therapy. That was really all he could hope for at the moment.
Hoping and waiting. That’s what he’d do for as long as it took.
They rode down on the elevator in silence from Evelyn’s third-floor office. Lee tested the waters and let his knuckles brush against the back of Wren’s hand. After the day she’d had, she might need space, and he’d readily give it.
She didn’t respond. They stepped out onto the ground floor, and Lee was about to reach for his keys when she grabbed his hand.
“Thank you, Lee.”
At the look in her eyes, Lee’s lungs emptied. “No. Thank you,” he said, shaking his head. “That took a lot of courage. I’m so proud. Really.”
One side of her mouth curled. “I didn’t really have a choice.”
At her words, his stomach droppe
d to his knees. “Oh God… did I force you?”
Wren shook her head and brought her palm to his cheek. “That’s not what I mean.”
They stood in front of the lobby’s double doors, and, before she could explain, an older man entered and pressed the elevator button beside them. Wren’s eyes tracked to the man and then back to Lee.
“Can we go back to your house and talk?” she asked, her voice dropping. “I need a minute to figure out what I’m going to say.”
Lee only nodded. His tongue wouldn’t work. Was she going to leave him again? Tell him that she couldn’t focus on herself and a relationship at the same time? Lee wouldn’t blame her if she did. He could only honor her choice and hope she’d want him back in her life at some point.
The drive home stretched on, lengthened by silence and Lee’s own sense of doom. Every chance he got, he let his eyes drift to Wren’s profile, trying to burn the image of her into his mind, cataloguing the way her blue waves fell around her face, the glint of the sassy barbell in her brow, the pout of her lips. Would he ever get the chance to look at her like this again? To touch her?
At the house, Lee stalled. They brought Victor outside, and, as the puppy nosed around the monkey grass, Lee didn’t urge him to hurry as he usually would. Besides, Wren was smiling at the dog, and he wanted to savor the moment.
Walking back into his kitchen, Lee grasped for anything to hold her there. “Are you hungry?”
Wren shook her head. “Not really.”
“Would you like something to drink? Tea? Hot chocolate?”
“Hot chocolate?” she echoed, her brows lifting. “Like real hot chocolate or the little Swiss Miss packets?”
Lee had the little Swiss Miss packets, but he also had the raw ingredients, which would take longer.
“Real hot chocolate. Let’s make some.” He didn’t give her the chance to decline but grabbed a saucepan from the cabinet. “Can you get the milk?”
By the time he’d assembled the sugar, salt, and cocoa powder, Wren had already measured out two cups of milk into the pan and found a whisk.
“We need a quarter cup,” she said, nodding to the cocoa. “And three tablespoons of sugar.”
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