The Secretary and Her Boss

Chapter 37

TWO WEEKS LATER

The air in the town of Whitefish, Montana, was crisp and cold in a way that numbed you all the way down to your bones, leaving teeth chattering, body trembling, and every part of you slowly frosting over. 

The town was still covered in Christmas decor, my family's porch brimming with garland and twinkle lights like a bright beacon, snowbanks high right beyond the deck— a mini winter wonderland that would stay that way until a week into the New Year.

My family loved the Christmas season and left the lights and decorations up for as long as was socially acceptable. If it were solely up to my father, they'd never come down. 

The sight of the lights and snow momentarily distracted me from the chaos of my family inside. The silence of the cold evening was deafening after all of the noise of the holiday season. A loud phone chime pulled my focus away from the view and I found a sight that made me smile. A text from Bex. 

A picture filled my phone screen. Bex, Prism and Lavender all held up wine glasses on a beach house deck with the sunset behind them. The sight of them beaming up at me filled me with gratitude. They had become my home away from home and I missed them.

BEX: WISHING YOU WERE HERE! COME HOME SOON! SOMEONE NEEDS TO WATER THE PLANTS AND I DON'T DO THAT! 

I laughed, and then the reason why I stepped outside buzzed to life on my phone. Putting my phone to my ear, I was greeted by a question by way of greeting. "How's it going with your family?" a calm southern drawl on the other end of the phone asked.

I stood on the very edge of the deck of my childhood home, watching the stars bleed across the sky, my fingers tucked into a thick set of mittens, which were wrapped around a cup of hot chocolate, my other hand clutching my phone to my ear. I watched my breath rise into the air until it vanished into the night, taking a moment before responding.

My therapist, Annie, was used to my pauses by this point. Something I had to learn to do instead of automatically saying I was fine.

Why was it that we always replied that we were 'fine' instead of taking a moment to think about the question and give an open and honest answer? Were we truly so afraid of being honest and vulnerable that we'd rather live in a place of denial than take a chance on opening up to others?

"It's good to be home," I said after a beat. "Especially after... what happened. It's nice being close to my family." I closed my eyes, remembering all of my brothers lined up on that screen, hands bound behind their backs. "I nearly lost them."

The line remained quiet, my therapist sensing that I needed a moment. My sessions had been going well. She challenged me, was insightful and pushed me to unwrap a whole mess of my issues. I still had a long way to go, but it felt good to work on myself.

"It's loud though," I added when there was a booming crash inside. "Makes it hard to think. Which is why my brother's have been more annoying than usual," I said with a smile. "I think it's their way of helping."

Annie chuckled. She had heard my brothers enough in the background to know what I was talking about. "And what are you trying to think about?"

I took a long loud sip of my hot chocolate in answer. When I didn't reply she was kind enough to change the subject. "Want to fill me in on what happened to your ex-boyfriend, Liam?"

That was an easy answer. "He got fired for being caught assisting Carter with information about me. Apparently someone dropped off a tape to the police with his conversation in that diner, proving that Carter and Derik's crime was premeditated."