Lured into Love (Blossom in Winter #2) - Melanie Martins Page 0,82

you have to graduate in economics, finance-economics,” he corrects. “And I want you to see Dr. Nel at least twice a week for a month.”

“See Dr. Nel? For what?” I ask instantly.

“For therapy to recover from your breakup.”

Does he really believe I will get over it in one month? Jeez, not even in a year, let alone a month. “Um, alright.”

“And,” he starts again, “as long as you live in the state of New York, I’d like to see you once a week, preferably on Sunday.” What? From once a year to every Sunday, that’s a big difference. Fuck… Well, I guess I’ll have to move to New Jersey, then. “Oh, and, eh, once a month if you live outside of the state.” Did he hear my thoughts or what?

“Okay. Deal. But if I live outside of New York, you have to travel.”

“No problem, it’ll be a pleasure to visit you wherever you live.”

I take a deep breath, assessing all his requests. I have to graduate, which I intended to, see Dr. Nel for a month, and then visit him once a week if I live in the state of New York. Alright, I think I can manage that. “Okay, I’m gonna make the changes and will give you a new contract tomorrow.”

A satisfied smile tugs at his lips, and, as I’m about to stand up, his words make me fall back again in my seat. “I’m not the monster you think I am, Petra.”

For once, he sounds empathetic and caring. But I can never be too prudent with him. After colluding with Mom to destroy my relationship with Alex, Dad is, and always will be, the enemy. No matter what he says, no matter what he does. There is no amount of inheritance that can buy his forgiveness. At this point, this is purely me saving my ass and my assets, just like Emma told me.

“I know,” I tell him for the sake of making him feel good about himself. “Thanks for everything.” I lean over to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Dad.”

He seems to rejoice at my affection and gives me one on the forehead. “Good night.”

Chapter 22

Manhattan, September 21, 2020

Petra Van Gatt

Few things in life are as useless as paying a visit to Dr. Nel. But since it’s in the inheritance contract that Dad, his lawyer, and I just signed this morning, I’ve got to play my part and spend one hour twice a week lying on her couch and looking at the white ceiling in her minimalist office.

“Petra?”

“Mm?” I turn to my right side and see Dr. Nel sitting in a black armchair, glasses on, legs crossed, holding her notebook and a pen.

As she glances at her watch, she says, “You’ve been here thirty minutes, and you’ve barely spoken.”

I let a little smirk escape. Talking was not part of the contract. Just my presence here was.

“Oh,” I mumble for the sake of saying something.

“Alright…” She closes her notebook and grabs something from her briefcase. “If you don’t want to open up, then I’m gonna have to cancel all our meetings.”

“What?!” Now I jump from the couch and say, “There’s no need for that.” Her lips twitch in a smile at my fearful expression, and she keeps tapping her pen on the notebook like a drum—most likely for me to hurry up. Knowing there’s no escape, I draw in a breath and ask, “What do you want me to say?”

“I told you,” she pauses, gauging my reaction. As I cock my head to the side in confusion and squint my eyes, she repeats her question. “What have you been dreaming of?”

“I don’t dream,” I tell her just as fast. “I haven’t been able to sleep properly since he left.”

“Nightmares, then?”

Nightmares. Of course I have nightmares. When I’m alone in the darkness of my bedroom, all I think about is him. I can even feel his presence as if he were there. When I close my eyes, I can feel him squeezing me tight in his arms, his fingers lingering on my bare skin. I can see his full lips and the way they curve up to smile at me, his piercing blue eyes and how they gleam. And I can even smell his scent as if he left it all over my bed. Everything about him is power and beauty at the same time. Jeez, all these memories… They’re a mix of remembering the past, crying for the future I will never have,