“Are you going to tell me what has you so overwhelmed with emotions?” Dr. Warvel asks.

“Huh? Oh. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“Are you stumbling over the words or was that you’re not able to voice them?”

I lace my fingers together and hold my hands in my lap. “No, that wasn’t a stutter, it was more a jumbling of thoughts.”

“I thought so.” She smiles softly. “Do you want to discuss it?”

She’s my safe place, and talking to her is really what I should do, but I sort of like the idea of whatever Grayson and I are starting will be only ours. It doesn’t matter what anyone thinks about it. It’s what we both want.

“I’m not sure.”

“That’s fair. I want to remind you that there are no judgments here. My goal is to help you work through things.”

“And you have helped,” I assure her.

“I’m glad. You’ve made great progress in your time with me. It’s clear that your brain is healing, and with the techniques we’ve been able to implement, you’re able to handle most situations.”

“Except for one,” I murmur.

Dr. Warvel tilts her head to the side. “Which would that be?”

“Grayson.”

“He’s the one topic you’ve tried to deny.”

I love my therapist, but I hate when she calls me to the carpet. In my heart, I haven’t denied anything. I know what I feel, I always have, I just haven’t wanted to deal with it. Those are two very different things.

“I don’t think that’s possible anymore.”

“Did something happen?”

I may as well tell her. I need to be honest and work this out. Tonight, something will change simply because it’s not possible for two people who love each other this way to have sex and not alter their relationship.

Not that I’m sure how we’d define this anyway.

Friends? Friends who loved? Friends who are denying this is going to change everything?

As the breath leaves my lungs, the words follow as well. I tell her everything from my time with Amelia, how he bought our spot and built a house there, and then the dream. That is the pivotal moment for me.

“How could you not share that?” Dr. Warvel asks with a smile. “You didn’t have your nightmare.”

“I know. I think I’m still not sure though.”

“That you didn’t have the dream?”

I nod. “Maybe I did and then this was just another dream.”

“For argument’s sake, let’s assume you had the nightmare. What does it matter? You didn’t wake up with your heart racing and covered in sweat. Your mind allowed you to rest through it, to get through the dream without forcing you to live it again. So, my question is, so what if the dream about Grayson came after?”