Page 46 of Venomous Kiss

Just then, the real estate agent walks back in, interrupting us.

“She won’t take this one. Show her one more in her price range with two bedrooms,” Arlo tells her, then heads to the door and calls out, “Lilith, coffee now” over his shoulder.

“You are so bossy, you know that?” I loudly complain as I thank the realtor and then follow Arlo out.

We walk down the street together until we find the nearest coffee shop and go inside.

“Green tea?” he asks, and I nod.

As he goes to order, I sit and place my bag on the empty table. After he’s placed our order, he comes to the table, pulls out a chair, and sits. “Have you been doing the exercises I gave you?”

“Yes,” I say with an eye roll.

“Affirmations help more than you think. And you spoke to your Aunt, so that’s a starting point.”

“Do you really think I can be fixed?” I ask hopefully.

Our drinks are delivered, and I thank the lady as she walks off.

“Do you want to be fixed or just help manage your addictions?”

“Addictions?” I ask.

“I’ve been helping you, but I don’t think you want them to fully go away, Lilith. Just like your father, you are addicted to it.”

“I’m not. I haven’t even?—”

“How do you put yourself to sleep, Lilith?”

I bite the inside of my cheek.

He leans in and drops his voice to a whisper. “You dream of that night, the one you held that knife in your hand, don’t you?”

“I—”

“You do. Who else do you wish you could put that knife in?”

I sit back and think about what he said. He stares at me, always assessing my every move. Arlo is good at reading and understanding all my quirks.

“You haven’t asked me about him,” I say, changing the subject.

“I was waiting for you to bring him up. Do you want to talk about Reon?”

“So, you do know.”

“I know,” he says, waiting for me to tell him about Reon.

“I spent two nights with him. Two. And they were probably the best nights of my life, mixed with the ending of my marriage. Honestly, when I look back, I was a little crazy. I got obsessed with him, so much so that I stole an identity to just stalk him.” I shrug my shoulders like it’s no big deal.

“We’re allowed to be a little bit crazy for love.”

“I don’t love him.” I scoff as I pick at my nail polish. “I don’t think I’ve ever truly loved anyone.”

“You were fixated on him,” he points out.

“I was.”

“Does it help that he’s the same?”