Page 53 of Sunflower Persona (Classic City Romance #2)

Y ou would think after thirteen months of bi-weekly appointments, I’d be used to the constant ticking from the large decorative clock behind my therapist’s desk, but the monotonous sound never ceases to worm its way into my head.

Maybe that’s the intention; for all I know, it could be some advanced technique the doc is using.

I should ask Nathan. He’s the one who likes all the brain science shit.

My sessions with Dr. Shaw aren’t at all what I expected.

In the movies, it’s always some guy lying on a sofa in a dark room while they talk about their childhood with a box of tissues.

This is nothing like that. For one, my childhood was great—it’s being an adult that sucks—and two, there aren’t any couches involved.

These forty-five minutes are spent in a cozy armchair in a well-lit office while the doc helps me work through my thoughts and offers coping mechanisms for when the gloom comes—which has been a less common occurrence since I started coming, so something is working.

“Kori graduated last week, right?” my doctor asks.

“Magna cum laude.” I couldn’t keep the proud grin from forming if I tried.

My woman is amazing. She’s smarter than me—there’s no doubt about it—and I’m not the only one who sees it. She had three job offers before her last semester even started, but she turned them all down, waiting until she found the perfect opportunity. One close to home—close to me.

She starts next month.

“That’s a big change. How is that?”

I huff and give a half-hearted shrug. Dr. Shaw narrows her eyes and gives me the look —the one that means she isn’t going to let nonanswers slide. I’ve gotten it more times than I can count over the course of our time together.

“It seems like a big change, but it’s not really. She’ll spend her days at work instead of classes, and her name’s getting added to the lease, but it’s not like we haven’t been living together already. What’s really different?”

“I suppose you’re right. I trust you would tell me if this was triggering anything for you.”

The idea is laughable. The gloom feeds on my insecurities, and there is nothing I’m more secure in than where I stand with my woman. It’s always been me I didn’t trust to do right by her, never the other way around. That’s not about to change.

“I’m good. Things are good.”

“You’ve come a long way since we started. I think it might be time we cut back on your sessions. There’s no reason for you to keep coming every other week. Let’s move to once a month and see how it feels.”

“Sounds good.”

“You should be proud of the progress you’ve made.”

“Thanks, Doc.” My face heats as I direct my gaze to the floor.

It’s hard to accept the praise, but she isn’t wrong.

It’s been months since the gloom has gotten the best of me.

Hell, I barely notice its presence anymore.

The process hasn’t been easy, but there was too much on the line for me to give up when shit got hard.

I had already had a few sessions with Dr. Shaw before Kori came back into my life, but she has been my motivation to keep going.

I promised both of us I’d never let my demons come between us again, and I meant that shit.

“That’s all the time we have for today. Like always, you can call me if anything comes up between sessions, but if not, I’ll get you scheduled for June.”

We say our goodbyes, and I head back to my truck. I don’t have a lot of time before I’m due back at the jobsite. There’s nothing glamorous about the apprenticeship or electrical work as a whole, but I’m decent enough at it, and it pays the bills far better than bartending ever did.

And as lame as it sounds, it gives me a sense of purpose—like I’m actually doing something that contributes to society.

That, mixed with the therapy and my friends’ support, has helped me get to a place I haven’t been in for a long time.

For the first time since my injury, I’m happy.

Not just moments, but genuinely in a good place the majority of the time.

Life is finally looking up for me, and I’m grateful every day I’ve got Kori by my side to live it with.

***

The smell of smoke greets me as I open the front door of my apartment.

It should be alarming, but at this point, it’s almost expected.

I learned pretty quick that Kori takes after her mom in the cooking department.

That hasn’t stopped her from giving it her all despite my protests.

She’s like her mom in that way too—stubborn.

“Everything good, Low?” I call out as I step inside.

Over the past year, the space I used to dread coming back to has become the place I want to be more than anywhere else.

With my woman here, I don’t ever have to worry about coming home to nothing but grim darkness and silence.

She fills our apartment with so much joy and life.

Even when she isn’t here, her presence is palpable, and I never want to live without it again.

“Yeah. We might want to order pizza, though,” she says with an annoyed huff as she turns away from the stove.

Her face lights up when her gaze lands on me, and before I can blink, she’s throwing her arms around my neck. On instinct, my arms wrap around her as I pull her to my chest, and her sweet citrusy scent washes over me.

Even after a year, her affection still leaves me awestruck. It will never make sense to me why a woman like her would love a man like me, but I’ve stopped questioning it, and I’m never going to let her go.

“How was work?” she asks once she’s gotten her fill of me.

“Pretty standard.”

“And therapy?”

“Dr. Shaw thinks we should move to monthly sessions.”

“Gage, that’s huge.”

I shrug off her praise and turn my attention to the culinary disaster still smoking on the counter. Accepting compliments is something me and the doc are still working on. It doesn’t matter if it’s from a stranger or my woman, I clam up.

“What were the casualties of your cooking efforts today.” I walk over to inspect it but can’t make out what the burnt mush in the casserole dish is supposed to be.

“It was supposed to be shepherd’s pie. I called your mom for the recipe since you said it was your favorite, and she assured me it was ‘foolproof.’ I don’t think she realized what she was up against.”

That is supposed to be shepherd’s pie? May those poor potatoes rest in peace.

“What’s got you cooking today?”

“It’s our anniversary. I wanted to do something special.”

It’s our anniversary? By what standard? We started dating in September, and if you take out the six months we weren’t together, that puts 365 cumulative days of being together somewhere in early March. Hell, we celebrated in March, so I don’t know what this is.

“Anniversary of what, love?” I ask, trying to keep the rising panic out of my voice.

“A year ago today, I unofficially moved in. I wanted to do something to commemorate that. Well, to be honest, I wanted to celebrate the day we got back together, but finals made that one impossible, so this is close enough.” She glares at the failed meal like it personally offended her.

Unable to resist, I pull her in for another hug, tucking her head under my chin.

“Pizza is perfect. We can do a movie night too. I’ll even drag the mattress out here so we can make a date of it.”

“Really?”

“Of course, Low. Anything for you.”

She springs into action, pulling up the website to order on her phone while directing me around like the little tyrant she is.

I bend to her will with a smile and head to our room.

Unlike the first time we did this, there’s no need for me to rely on my friends to supply me with extra pillows and blankets.

Kor brought so many with her that they take up half the space in our closet—her closet, really.

My clothes have been banished to my half of the dresser.

It’s a good thing my wardrobe is limited, or I’d have to start storing things in the living room.

By the time I maneuver the mattress through the cramped hallway, Kori has already pushed the rest of the furniture out of the way, and she’s having a quiet argument with that duck of hers.

She doesn’t even notice me standing at the threshold; whatever “conversation” she’s in has all of her focus.

It must be heated because her hands are waving around without a care for her surroundings.

The sight has every ounce of love I have for her swelling in my chest to the point I think it might burst.

It hits me like a bolt of lightning—I’m gonna marry this woman.

I’ve always known she is my forever, but it felt like part of a distant future. Now it feels imminent. Like something that should have happened yesterday. This woman is my everything.

Mattress forgotten, I bound across the room and place a gentle hand on her shoulder. She starts to say something as she turns, but I steal the words from her lips with a rough kiss and pull her tight against me.

“Marry me,” I rasp once she breaks away for a breath.

“What?” She blinks away the lust-filled daze as what I said catches up to her.

The words weren’t planned, but I don’t regret them at all. Yellow is meant to be my wife. However, I probably should’ve bit my tongue until I had time for a proper proposal. She deserves better than this.

“Fuck, I’m doing this all wrong. I shouldn’t have said anything. I haven’t talked to your dad yet, and I don’t even have a ring. Forget I said anything—”

“Yes,” she says, cutting me off.

“What?” This time I’m the one reeling.

“Yes, I’ll marry you, Gage.”

“Fuck. Really?” A dopey grin finds a home on my face.

“Yes, you idiot. We should do it tomorrow.”

“That’s not a lot of time to plan a wedding.”

“Who said anything about a wedding? I want to be your wife. Tomorrow. We can go by the courthouse during your lunch break and get the license, although I doubt they can get us in for an actual wedding on such short notice. I’ll call around to find an officiant, and we can do it here.”

“We aren’t getting married here .” This place is still old and dingy, even with the added splash of Kori’s vibrance.

“Then where do you want to get married?”

The perfect idea springs to mind in an instant.

“I have an idea. Do you trust me?”

“More than anything.”

“Then I’ll handle everything. All you need to do is show up.”

“Will I need a white dress?”

“If you want to. Wear whatever makes you feel beautiful. If that’s white, wear that, and if it’s a clown costume, you can wear that too.”

“I love you, Gage,” she says and presses a quick kiss against my lips.

“I love you too, Low. Now help me move this mattress so we can get date night going.”

“Yes, Coach,” she all but whispers.

Goddamnit, we aren’t going to watch anything if she keeps that up.

We move in tandem to set up our bed on the floor, and then she scrolls through the never-ending options to find the movie she wants to watch tonight.

It doesn’t matter to me what she decides on, I’m not going to watch a second of it.

While she’s searching, I make a new group chat with all of our friends and send out the SOS.

If I’m going to pull this off, I’m going to need all their help.