Page 9 of Dual

Okay, for real. What the hell happened last night between him and Mads to set a fire under his ass like this?

I break his gaze and nestle my face sideways against his chest. "We can move the date up, but that's all you're getting," I murmur into his chest.

As he squeezes me, I wonder about the triangle of secrets between my alter, my lover, and me. What aren't we telling one another? And how can we even think of getting marriedbefore we've begun to settle it and drag everything out into the light?

I try to bury the questions from my mind as I snuggle closer into Domhn's chest and lose myself in the strong, sure warmth of his grip on me.

FOUR

DOMHNALL

Dr. Ezra'soffice is quiet, filled with the soft hum of the air vent and the faint ticking of a clock that feels louder today.

Anna sits beside me, her spine rigid, eyes darting to everything but me. I can feel the tension coiling under her skin. I want to reach for her, but I wait, my hands knotted in my lap.

But then she shifts slightly, her knee brushing against mine—a touch so small it could be accidental. I know better. I glance sideways, catching the faintest flicker of vulnerability in her eyes before she looks away again. I can't resist any longer.

I reach over, my fingers sliding gently beneath her chin, tilting her face toward me.

"Anna," I whisper, my voice rough with everything I can't seem to say right. "Look at me."

She does, reluctantly at first, but then fully. Her eyes, that impossible shade of multi-hued hazel, are glassy with unspoken words. There's a fragility there that cracks something open inside me. Without thinking, I lean in, pressing my forehead against hers.

The world narrows to just us—no Dr. Ezra, no ticking clock, no invisible weight of expectations pressing down on our shoulders. Just the warm breath between us. Syncing. Me and the girl I've loved since before I ever really knew the meaning of the word.

"I miss you," I murmur, my thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "Not just when you're gone, but even when you're right here."

Her breath catches, then her fingers curl into the fabric of my shirt. It feels like she's grounding herself in me. Or maybe it's just because I'm the one who grounds myself in her. She's my tether to the feckin' earth.

"I miss you, too," she whispers back.

I kiss her then. Not rushed, not desperate, just... real.

A soft press of lips that says everything words can't. It tastes like hope. Like history. Like the first time and every time after. When I pull back, her eyes are closed, her lips parted slightly, and for a brief moment, she looks perfectly at peace.

I tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, my heart thudding like it wants to crawl into her chest.

"Whatever this is," I murmur, "we'll figure it out. Together."

She nods—the smallest movement—but it feels like a promise.

Then Dr. Ezra clears his throat gently, pulling us back to the present and the reason we're here.

He leans forward, his pen poised like it's waiting to strike. "I thought we'd continue working on communication between you and Mads today. Is there a particular reason you've brought Domhnall into session?"

Anna's voice is steady, but her fingers twitch against her knee. "I feel like Mads is working against me lately. I don't know if she's jealous or angry at me, or what."

That lands like a stone in my chest. Mads. Always there, even when she's not. But she's part of Anna, I remind myself. Would I deny any part of what makes her her?

"And you don't think having him here might upset her?" Dr. Ezra asks, his head tilting, curious like he's dissecting us.

Anna snorts, sharp and humorless. "She's obsessed with him. She'll probably be thrilled. She's always happier when he's around. Maybe she'll actually play along for once."

The words hang between us. My heart catches. Obsessed. But she didn't sayI'mobsessed. She didn't sayI'mhappier when he's around. Does that mean she isn't? Only Mads?

"And how does that make you feel?" Dr. Ezra's voice is soft, like he's being careful not to trigger an avalanche.

Anna sighs, the sound heavy. She reaches for my hand, and I grip it like a lifeline, my thumb brushing over herknuckles, memorizing the shape of her touch. "Frustrated, I guess. I just wish we could all get along."