“Okay,” I murmured. “I want to learn. What can I do to make things better?”
Darren’s face split into a brilliant grin. “There’s a lot you both can do to make this better. You both love each other, so that’s the basis for all this. All we need is a few tools to keep things healthy and manageable so they don’t fall apart on one or both of you when things get rough. And trust me, you both will have down days and it will be rough. To expect everything to be perfect would be setting you both up for failure.”
Darren’s soothing voice set me at ease and my jumpiness ratcheted down a notch or two.
“When you’re grieving the loss of Grace or your child, your instinct is to bottle up and blame yourself. That has to stop. I know you don’t want to talk about it to Lila, because you don’t want her to be miserable and share your pain, but what about when she’s feeling down about herself? Don’t you want her to let you in?” Nathan nodded in agreement. “Then you have to do the same. It’s about trust and friendship. I also know you lash out and then get physical.”
Nathan inhaled in a rush, and a vein on his temple throbbed as he ground his teeth together loud enough I could hear it. He seemed to be holding his breath, as well.
“It’s okay, Nathan. Sex is a part of your makeup as a man, and it’s your way of feeling close to Lila, but it isn’t fair of you to not tell her you’re upset before you take her that way. It’s obvious she wants to help you, and she has no problem giving herself to you to make you feel better, but it will help both of you much more if she understands it’s an outlet for you, a form of therapy. A way to feel connected. It can be a tremendous help in healing you both, but it has to be done with respect, and that means telling the other partner you feel hurt or scared, and need them to reciprocate by being affectionate or sexual. You might even find it’s some of the best sex you’ve ever had, even more so than makeup sex after a fight.” Darren smiled with a warmth that reflected his respect and friendship with Nathan.
Nathan grinned, and I blushed. There was no arguing with that statement. It was some of the best sex when one of us was reaching out with our body to feel okay inside.
“After you’re done connecting that way though, in order for it to help and be healing, you have to then talk about what you felt hurt about. I think you’ll be amazed to find that after sex your head is clearer and you can make better sense of your feelings. You feel relaxed and trusting of your partner as you’re lying there in each other’s arms.”
Nathan opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and closed it. “I…that’s when I feel the most open to speaking, but I know Lila’s not always comfortable sharing what happened to her. I don’t want to force her.”
“You won’t have to. If you open up first and make the first move to be vulnerable, you’ll find Lila will do it on instinct. It’s how this works. You give first, Nathan, because you left her, and you’ll find she’ll begin to trust you again.” Darren looked at me to make sure I was okay. I hadn’t realized a few tears had slipped down my cheeks.
I was desperate to believe Darren, but I was skeptical. Was it that easy?
Darren focused on me, his brow crinkled and there was a look of concern in his eyes. “What’s going on? Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“No one ever held me when I was sad or hurt. When Nathan does that after we’ve been in bed together, sometimes I feel worse, not better.” I felt like shit for saying that, but I had to be honest if we were going to get anywhere.
Nathan’s face fell. “I think I knew that.” His grip loosened on my hand and began to pull away. I gripped it hard, to let him know this wasn’t a rejection, and it was me begging for help.
“I don’t know what to do about that. I want to change, I do, but this is who I am, who I’ve been for so long. I don’t know any other way to be,” I cried.
Darren stood up and gave me a patient look. “That’s true; this is who you’ve become because you were forced into it. It was survival. But now, we’ve moved past survival. If Nathan promises you he won’t leave you again, do you think you’d be more apt to not be afraid and to open up a little bit?”
“I suppose…” I didn’t want to promise anything I couldn’t deliver.
A few days after our session was my first follow-up appointment. The doctors said my progress was going well, and I was able to have my stitches removed. It would still be another week before I would be allowed to use the crutches and even then only part of the time to start. They wanted to make sure my bruised ribs were healed before I exerted myself too much.
While it had been Sarah who took me to the hospital for my appointment, it was Nathan who took me home. With prescriptions already digitally en route, we drove to the drugstore that wasn’t far from our building.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pulled on the handle to open the door
“Wait, I can’t go with you?”
I needed out and, damn it, and he was going to take me out. I’d been cooped up for weeks and suffering from a serious case of cabin fever.
“I’m just going in to pick up your meds; I’ll be back in a minute.”
With that he left me sitting alone in the car, staring at the brick wall in front of me. Fifteen minutes later, which had seemed like forever, Nathan returned. He was so tense he moved with almost a stiff limp. Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, he opened mine.
I quirked my brow at him as he cursed under his breath. “They won’t let me f**king sign for your meds.”
It wasn’t until he leaned into the car and his arms moved under my body did I understand. A smile broke out on my face.
Freedom!
Agitation seeped from him as he pulled me out, but he seemed to calm somewhat when my arms wrapped around his neck.
My eyes were happy to have more stimuli, and I was looking everywhere like a kid in a candy shop. I wanted him to let me down so I could explore, but I knew there was no way he would.
We walked up to the pharmacy counter, maneuvering past the small line of people. “Here she is.”
I turned to look at the pharmacist who pushed the paper for me to sign. A quick signature and then Nathan shifted, juggling me a bit. He pulled out his wallet and I tried to protest, but was met with a glare, silencing me. After payment was made, he handed me the bag and turned to walk toward the door.
Darren’s face split into a brilliant grin. “There’s a lot you both can do to make this better. You both love each other, so that’s the basis for all this. All we need is a few tools to keep things healthy and manageable so they don’t fall apart on one or both of you when things get rough. And trust me, you both will have down days and it will be rough. To expect everything to be perfect would be setting you both up for failure.”
Darren’s soothing voice set me at ease and my jumpiness ratcheted down a notch or two.
“When you’re grieving the loss of Grace or your child, your instinct is to bottle up and blame yourself. That has to stop. I know you don’t want to talk about it to Lila, because you don’t want her to be miserable and share your pain, but what about when she’s feeling down about herself? Don’t you want her to let you in?” Nathan nodded in agreement. “Then you have to do the same. It’s about trust and friendship. I also know you lash out and then get physical.”
Nathan inhaled in a rush, and a vein on his temple throbbed as he ground his teeth together loud enough I could hear it. He seemed to be holding his breath, as well.
“It’s okay, Nathan. Sex is a part of your makeup as a man, and it’s your way of feeling close to Lila, but it isn’t fair of you to not tell her you’re upset before you take her that way. It’s obvious she wants to help you, and she has no problem giving herself to you to make you feel better, but it will help both of you much more if she understands it’s an outlet for you, a form of therapy. A way to feel connected. It can be a tremendous help in healing you both, but it has to be done with respect, and that means telling the other partner you feel hurt or scared, and need them to reciprocate by being affectionate or sexual. You might even find it’s some of the best sex you’ve ever had, even more so than makeup sex after a fight.” Darren smiled with a warmth that reflected his respect and friendship with Nathan.
Nathan grinned, and I blushed. There was no arguing with that statement. It was some of the best sex when one of us was reaching out with our body to feel okay inside.
“After you’re done connecting that way though, in order for it to help and be healing, you have to then talk about what you felt hurt about. I think you’ll be amazed to find that after sex your head is clearer and you can make better sense of your feelings. You feel relaxed and trusting of your partner as you’re lying there in each other’s arms.”
Nathan opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it and closed it. “I…that’s when I feel the most open to speaking, but I know Lila’s not always comfortable sharing what happened to her. I don’t want to force her.”
“You won’t have to. If you open up first and make the first move to be vulnerable, you’ll find Lila will do it on instinct. It’s how this works. You give first, Nathan, because you left her, and you’ll find she’ll begin to trust you again.” Darren looked at me to make sure I was okay. I hadn’t realized a few tears had slipped down my cheeks.
I was desperate to believe Darren, but I was skeptical. Was it that easy?
Darren focused on me, his brow crinkled and there was a look of concern in his eyes. “What’s going on? Can you tell me what you’re thinking?”
“No one ever held me when I was sad or hurt. When Nathan does that after we’ve been in bed together, sometimes I feel worse, not better.” I felt like shit for saying that, but I had to be honest if we were going to get anywhere.
Nathan’s face fell. “I think I knew that.” His grip loosened on my hand and began to pull away. I gripped it hard, to let him know this wasn’t a rejection, and it was me begging for help.
“I don’t know what to do about that. I want to change, I do, but this is who I am, who I’ve been for so long. I don’t know any other way to be,” I cried.
Darren stood up and gave me a patient look. “That’s true; this is who you’ve become because you were forced into it. It was survival. But now, we’ve moved past survival. If Nathan promises you he won’t leave you again, do you think you’d be more apt to not be afraid and to open up a little bit?”
“I suppose…” I didn’t want to promise anything I couldn’t deliver.
A few days after our session was my first follow-up appointment. The doctors said my progress was going well, and I was able to have my stitches removed. It would still be another week before I would be allowed to use the crutches and even then only part of the time to start. They wanted to make sure my bruised ribs were healed before I exerted myself too much.
While it had been Sarah who took me to the hospital for my appointment, it was Nathan who took me home. With prescriptions already digitally en route, we drove to the drugstore that wasn’t far from our building.
“I’ll be right back,” he said as he pulled on the handle to open the door
“Wait, I can’t go with you?”
I needed out and, damn it, and he was going to take me out. I’d been cooped up for weeks and suffering from a serious case of cabin fever.
“I’m just going in to pick up your meds; I’ll be back in a minute.”
With that he left me sitting alone in the car, staring at the brick wall in front of me. Fifteen minutes later, which had seemed like forever, Nathan returned. He was so tense he moved with almost a stiff limp. Instead of walking to the driver’s side door, he opened mine.
I quirked my brow at him as he cursed under his breath. “They won’t let me f**king sign for your meds.”
It wasn’t until he leaned into the car and his arms moved under my body did I understand. A smile broke out on my face.
Freedom!
Agitation seeped from him as he pulled me out, but he seemed to calm somewhat when my arms wrapped around his neck.
My eyes were happy to have more stimuli, and I was looking everywhere like a kid in a candy shop. I wanted him to let me down so I could explore, but I knew there was no way he would.
We walked up to the pharmacy counter, maneuvering past the small line of people. “Here she is.”
I turned to look at the pharmacist who pushed the paper for me to sign. A quick signature and then Nathan shifted, juggling me a bit. He pulled out his wallet and I tried to protest, but was met with a glare, silencing me. After payment was made, he handed me the bag and turned to walk toward the door.
