The Way Back

On the Mend

He adjusted the large headphones and let himself lie back onto the sofa, crossing his legs at the ankles. Lindsey released a deep breath as his eyes closed and dug into the comfort of the cushions beneath his body. His fingers, mimicking the chords of Samba Pa Ti, moved against the worn cotton of his shirt. With time, he'd realized the conflict had been his fault. His eye had healed, and the fence had been repaired. The scales had been tipped too far, and the events had thrown him out of alignment, turning him into the jealous, man-child tyrant he thought he'd left behind. He should have known better than to stop his sessions with Dr. Wong, but he had cancelled multiple appointments in the weeks before he'd nearly lost an eye to a beaded shawl. Lindsey had resumed sessions twice a week and would have rather walked over hot coals while a scorpion pinched his nose than subjecting himself to the joint session he'd agonized through earlier in the day. He wanted to hole himself up in the room he'd converted into a simple studio and not come out for a day or two. He needed to analyze each confession he had made during the two and a half hours sitting with the psychiatrist and Stevie.

Lindsey gnawed the inside of his cheek and startled at the shift in the cushions. His blue eyes flew open in alarm and fixated on the deep brown globes peering at him. Lindsey wrinkled his brows in confusion, watching her gracelessly climb over him. After all the things he'd said during the combined therapy session, he couldn't imagine her wanting to be near him. He grunted in discomfort as her elbow jabbed into his ribcage, and her body settled in-between him and the back of the sofa. "What are you doing?" he questioned softly, removing the headphones from his head and dropping them onto the Persian rug.

She pushed her golden fringe off her forehead and felt out of breath as she wriggled to get comfortable. The simplest movements were becoming more and more of a chore for her. Stevie rested her head against his chest, pressing her forehead into the crook of his neck. "Am I crushing you?" she asked.

Lindsey shook his head and moved slightly to the left, allowing her more room. "Better?"

Stevie nodded and molded her body to his. She trailed her long, manicured nails over his chest, dawdling circles over his heart. She nuzzled her face against the soft cotton of his v-neck shirt, breathing in the citrus and sandalwood cedar notes of his cologne.

"Steph, what are you doing?"

She didn't answer the question. The visit with Dr. Wong had shaken her to the core. She hadn't been thrilled with the idea of being present for sessions at all. Some had caused yelling matches like when he brought up her ex-lovers, and others had caused tears to be shed like when he talked about his father's death. So far, all the appointments had brought clarity and truth. The last visit had shown her how much harm she had done to Lindsey, and the revelations had left her too stunned to speak as Lindsey poured his heart out. Stevie had withdrawn to the sanctuary depths of her bedroom to put words onto paper after returning home from Beverly Hills. She had let him retreat and hide for over an hour but knew that if he festered in self-analysis for too long that it would be dangerous for him. The worst place Lindsey Buckingham could ever be was in his own head. She licked her lips and lifted her head to stare up at him. "Did you mean it?"

He roughly scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed. Lindsey was afraid to ask, but his heart had a suspicion about what had bothered her the most. He cleared his throat and rubbed his foot against his calf.

Her fingers pressed against the side of his chin, applying pressure until his head turned. She met his eyes, intensely gaping at him. "Did you mean it?" she repeated.

Her eyes spoke volumes to him and confirmed his inkling. Lindsey broke eye contact and sighed, dipping his head. He didn't want to rehash what had been discussed. The session had peeled back several layers of deep seated acrimony and insecurity the man had long compartmentalized and repressed. He wanted to leave it in the wooden paneled office, but Dr. Wong had encouraged the couple to continue the exchange at home. Lindsey breathed in and out slowly, avoiding her powerful gaze and hearing the hesitation in her husky voice as she spoke his name. "I meant it," he admitted in a murmur.