Floored - Karla Sorensen Page 0,93

out. That this distance would help us get closer."

"It still might," she said gently.

"But what if we don't end up together?"

She reached forward and grabbed my hand. "Then he's not the one for you."

"I'm nervous to see him."

"That's okay too." She smiled. "When will he get here?"

"He said he'd try to get a flight out in the next week so he can make it for the shower. Logan is hooking him up with one of the apartments they lease for players when they need a place to stay, said they may have him run some sort of clinic for the players or something so he could get it cleared."

She stood from the ottoman. "Well, if he's going to be here for that shower, then the blue dress won't cut it."

"Thank you."

"But we also don't want wallpaper dress."

I rolled my eyes as she started digging through the pile that I'd brought into the room.

"Oh, yeah," she said. Then held the hanger on her pointer finger. "This one."

"Yeah?"

Claire nodded. "Definitely."

I touched the hem of the dress with a tiny smile. When I did, Little Cabbage did a massive somersault that knocked my breath away.

"Whoa," I gasped, rubbing over an elbow or knee or something. Claire pressed her hand down on the spot with a grin.

"See? Cabbage Patch agrees with me." She leaned down. "Don't forget, I'm your favorite aunt, okay?"

Jude

"Bloody fucking bollocks, this is stupid."

The soothing voice came through my car’s Bluetooth system. "It's okay to be nervous about this, it's a big deal."

"Don't coddle me right now, all right? I need you to tell me I'm not about to walk into a trap."

My therapist—whose number I'd gotten from Declan—did not make me lay on a couch, but he did make me talk about my feelings, and often in the past four weeks, I'd hated him for it.

"From what you've told me, I don't believe you're walking into a trap." I could hear the smile in his voice, the wanker, and I wanted to punch him for convincing me this was a good idea.

I yanked my car to the side of the country road, staring out the windshield at the rolling green hills and hedges. "I'm not ready."

"Talk to me about what changed then, Jude." He was always so bloody patient. "Yesterday when we met, you'd had a good talk with your brother and a good phone call with your parents. Based on what you talked about with both of them, you told me you were ready to go out to the farm."

I gripped the steering wheel until I could've sworn my knuckles were going to pop out of my skin. "Yeah, it was easy to say I was ready while sitting in your bloody beige office with your soothing music and fucking oils in the air making me relaxed."

"What's scaring you right now?"

I pinched my eyes shut. I hated that question. For the past four weeks, twice a week, he'd asked me all these blasted questions that I hated answering. Sometimes more than others.

"Right now? How much I want to punch something."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. But you aren't punching anything, which is excellent. What else?"

Blowing out a hard breath, I finally opened my eyes. "I'm afraid that I'll go to the farm, and it'll be just like the last time I saw them at the pub. My dad will say something awful like he did, and I'll lash out like I did, and we'll be right back where we fucking started." I slammed my palm against the steering wheel. My heart was ramming against my chest like I'd just run for a bloody hour. "And if that happens, then all of this was a waste, and Lia was right that I don't know how to talk about shit, and I'll never change, and the woman I love and my child will be halfway across the world, happy without me, and I'll be empty and alone with no one to talk to about anything because I've shown over and over that I don't need it when I really do."

The car was deathly quiet at my admission. I could hardly believe I'd admitted anything that big.

Quietly, thoughtfully, he hummed. "Bravo, Jude. Excellent."

I ran a hand down my face. "Bloody hell," I muttered. "I feel like you just yanked my guts out."

He laughed. "I didn't do anything but ask a few questions. The truth is that you already have changed. You're seeking help in seeing the damage that your parents have inflicted, that you've