Page 38 of Not My Mate

He didn't actually have to love me more than anyone else in the world. If he loved me enough, maybe it didn't matter if he loved Grant best, and in a different way. Maybe I could live with this.

He smiled up at me, a helplessly fond smile, and touched my elbow again. "Charlie, you're not listening."

"I am," I promised, smiling down at him as I lied.

"You're not."

There was a low huff behind us, and I turned to see Russ stalking away, his head down, his shoulders set for trouble. Great. Did that mean he was going to start getting jealous again, now that my jealousy was finally starting to recede? Falling in love sure was a pain in the neck.He'd better not start getting mean again.

"I don't know what to say," I told Sahil. "It's a lot. What if I end up quitting after just a few months?"

"Oh, you can still use the space whenever you want. Anyway, don't you worry about that. It's never bad to have an extra spot to sleep, and you should be comfortable for as long as you do stay here. It's not right that you have to sleep on an old army cot just so you can be near your projects."

It wasn't the only reason, but I certainly wasn't about to illuminate him, especially now that the situation was finally starting to get easier. Still, I did like to sleep in the garage, and not only because I didn't want to overhear Grant and Sahil having sex.

"Well, I appreciate it. Thank you both." I grinned suddenly. "Maybe I'll go car shopping with my dad, after all. He used to help me buy junkers to fix up and practice tinkering with."

"An excellent idea. I heartily approve," said Sahil.

He glanced behind us and put a hand gently on the small of my back, shepherding me closer. It felt good; it would always feel good when he touched me. Perfectly safe, respectful, warm, and kind. Sahil could be fierce, but he was never fierce with me.

"Are things all right between you and Russell? Are you truly convinced you want everything to go back to the way it was — regarding the team, and continuing to work with Russell, that is?"

I let him finish getting the words out before I nodded. "I think so. As sure as I am about anything most of the time." I paused and looked after Russ. He was retreating fast. "I can always change my mind if I have to," I added, hoping it wouldn't come to that. Would he keep his promise?

"You don't have to tell me everything — or anything," said Sahil. "But I would love to hear anything you do want to tell me. I can be a sounding board. You don't have to take my advice all the time. Sometimes just saying something aloud is helpful." He looked at me, his expression caring, humble, waiting to see what I thought — not insisting he was right.

I didn't know why I'd held off for so long, anyway. It was ridiculous. I took a deep breath. "Sahil, I — I don't want to go to counseling anymore. At least, I want a little break. Or a different person to speak to. Orsomething. What I've been doing — it's not working."

He squeezed my hands, his expression gentle. "Go ahead."

I looked down at the ground, marshalling my thoughts, trying to get what I knew and felt to be true to make sense in words. They were such slippery things sometimes. "It was...bad, what happened, and confusing. But it just hurts more to...to blame myself, I guess?"

I looked at him quickly, then back down at the ground. My heart was pounding like mad. "It hurts to just have to keep hearing what a victim I was, and how it was all a trick. Like it wasn't real; it was all fake. But it felt real to me. So, I have to keep going over it and feeling the pain, the bad parts, and know I was a fool, and that everything good was a lie — like thinking I was falling in love, and trying to be grown-up and make a relationship work. Everything I did was wrong, and I — I just want to forget, not keep going over it. Ithurts.

"It was wrong for him to do that. To use me. He was a grownup, and he knew better, but I really didn't. I thought I was in love. I hate seeing myself as a stupid victim. I don't want to be just that. Even if he was evil and used me and I was all wrong. I'm already never going to trust those sorts of feelings again, am I? So, why should I have to keep reliving it, going over and over? I want tolive. Not in the past anymore. Not to be the damaged wolf who got hurt.

"And it did hurt. It made me not trust people. I wish I could change what happened, but I can't, so I want to go forward and not keep answering questions about what I can remember, and how it makes me feel, and why I didn't tell someone. I was a stupid kid. That's why. I thought he loved me. I don't want to be the victim anymore. I want to live."

I was panting slightly, gripping his hands tightly in return, silently begging him to understand.

"You are perfectly right," said Sahil. "Therapy is supposed to help, not make you keep feeling the pain, or carry even more guilt." He pulled me into a hug. "You'll be able to trust, someday. I firmly believe that. And you're absolutely right. You should live your life. If counseling is not working for you as it currently stands, there's no reason for you to stick it out any longer.Youget to choose the objectives for therapy — and everything else in your life."

"As long as I don't hurt people." I added that caveat for him and patted his back gently. He was hugging me, and he smelled distressed. I wanted to protect him if I could.

"You never would," said Sahil, sounding choked up.

"Don't cry. Not overme."

"I apologize." He wasn't mocking me; he was just embarrassed and sounding more formal because of it. He drew back, gave me an awkward pat on the arm, and couldn't meet my eyes, in case I would see the tears in them. But I already smelled them. "I never meant to make things more difficult. I only want to help."

His existence made things more difficult, sometimes. And sometimes his existence was the only thing that made me want to keep living.

I'd slogged through therapy because my parents had wanted me to, and then again later because he had wanted me to, but I'd never done it becauseIwanted to, and the things I'd taken from it seemed to be mostly negative. I believed them all that there were good things to get out of it — good discoveries to make, better habits to learn, all that kind of thing. But that wasn't what I'd gotten so far. I should have tried to express that earlier.

It was all kinds of wrong that I would rather go through years of painful and seemingly unproductive therapy than actually talk to someone about why I didn't want to. But that was me all over: I didn't communicate well, I hated trying, and I'd avoid issues at almost any cost.

Like falling in love with Sahil. If that's what it was.