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January 1 - January 2, 2021
“I quite disagree,” Gigi said. “Therapy is always necessary.”
“Excuse me, universe,” she whispered to the kitchen floor. “When you almost murdered me today—which was rather brutal, by the way, but I can respect that—were you trying to tell me something?” The universe, very enigmatically, did not respond.
He was standing in front of his window, shirtless, which she supposed made her a pervert as well as a spy. But this wasn’t a sexual exercise. He was barely even attractive in her eyes. She didn’t see him as an object, or anything like that. From a distance, in the dark, with that sharp tongue of his tucked away, she saw him as poetry.
Dani gave a slow smile, an action that had been known to cause proposals, jealous fist fights, and in one notable case, a minor car accident. “Wonderful,” she purred. “In that case, I expect you to sleep with him as soon as possible. Isn’t sex on your list?”
These, obviously, were the suggestions of specialist consultants who were rather clever but had never lived inside a body in constant crisis.
What Chloe actually did to cope was take her medication religiously, write fanciful lists, play The Sims, and live through it. Sometimes it was hard, but she managed by whatever means necessary.
Her face lit up, then closed down as she wrestled it under control. She was the queen of deadpan, after all. “Do you think?” she asked in a tone that said, I don’t give a shit, but go on.
Did that mean he was ruined, or just changed?
“Ah, don’t start that manly crap. We talk about our feelings in this house, boy.”
Why should he create a more palatable version of reality? Why should he paint for anyone but himself?
“Your word isn’t evidence? Your feelings aren’t evidence?” Red demanded, his tone harsher than he’d intended. But he couldn’t help it.
“Fuck him.” “I pity whoever is,”
What did it mean, when a man you made deals with and sent slightly flirtatious emails to licked your ear and held your hand?
Note for review line
Women who saved cats and wrote ridiculous lists and took deals painfully seriously shouldn’t deal with their feelings alone. No one should.
She stiffened. “You were hurt, and you reacted. You were in an unhealthy situation in more ways than one, and you panicked and cleansed everything with fire. Don’t dismiss your emotions and your self-protection as just a fucked-up decision. Don’t reduce something so complex and real and important to nothing.”
“Life hurts,” he said fiercely. “It’s unavoidable. But I know the difference between torture and growing pains.”
“No,” Gigi corrected calmly. “You are a woman who, in a life filled with pain, came here to ask about love.”
She was Chloe fucking Brown, and she was starting to wonder if she’d been brave from the beginning. If she’d just needed to love herself enough to realize it.
