Hunted

Chapter 4: Therapy Session

The visit with Evan's mom went well, better than I thought it would. I agreed to pretend like everything was okay between us. Not for him but for Fiona. She didn't need to know I was going to leave him. She didn't need more things on her mind. So we held hands for the first time in a very long time and played nice. It seemed to work and we left with tearful hugs and promises to come see her more.

I was completely paranoid someone would somehow notice the hickey on my neck even though I made sure to cover it up good with makeup. I kept my hair down and on one side to keep it hidden anyway. My mind was racing with too many things. How was it possible he could leave a mark on me in a dream? It made no sense.

The only rationalization I could come to was I must've pinched myself in my sleep or something. Even that didn't seem accurate but there was no plausible explanation and the fact there wasn't left me feeling unsettled and even more crazy than I normally felt. Except I always believed there was something else going on in the universe. Maybe...

No. I shook my head. That was ridiculous. It was just dreams.

It didn't help I'd always been a little superstitious. My mom discouraged it but I swear sometimes things happened that we couldn't explain and sometimes I just felt something. I didn't know how to explain it, it was just a feeling, like I had another sense or something. Mom tried to shut it down but it never left me. I still liked going into those silly stores with the healing crystals and tarot cards and whatnot. I hadn't done that in a long time because of the whole image issue with Evan.

Ugh, Evan. Jackass was sitting next to me in the car and I couldn't wait to get out of it just to get away from him.

The car ride home from their house was silent. That was fairly typical and today I was glad for it. I had enough on my mind. I leaned my head against the window and stared out, wondering why I was cursed when it came to mothers and wondering how the hell you get hickeys in your dreams.

"Do you want to grab some dinner?" Evan asked.

"Pick up whatever you want," I shrugged, not feeling hungry.

"I meant out at a restaurant. Not take out."

Excuse me, what the fuck? When was the last time we ate a meal together that wasn't in front of photographers at some event? I lifted my head from the cool glass of the car window and looked over at him in confusion. His eyes darted to me briefly and he sighed.

"I know," he said. "I just... I want to thank you."

"Thanks is unnecessary," I frowned. "I love her."

I leaned my head against the window and shut my eyes. They snapped open when I felt his hand on my leg.

"Please go to dinner with me?" He asked.

I looked over and moved my leg away from his hand. "I have a session with Cynthia at four thirty."

"Oh," he frowned. "What about after?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because I want to go to dinner with you," he sighed. "You're my wife. We should have dinner together sometimes."

"Since when?" I scoffed.

"I know I haven't been good to you," he said, gripping the steering wheel. "I know that. I know I've been consumed with my own life and left you out of it. I know that I haven't treated you right. I'm sorry. Just let me take you to dinner. I know you're upset about my mom, too. We don't need to feel even more depressed eating dinner alone."

I swear he knew exactly what to say. I hated that. I hated how well he still knew me. He knew I would feel too guilty to say no. I had an overwhelming need to make people feel better, even shitty people, apparently.