“Yeah. It's the number of someone she hates.”
Chase snorted, reaching up and slipping out of his jacket, placing it around my shoulders. “She's got a good head on her shoulders.”
“Yeah, except she's sleeping with Jake,” I said, shocking myself.
“They'll probably be good together,” he said, putting a hand at my hip and leading me back toward his car.
“They're not together. They're just sleeping together.”
“Sure about that?” he asked, giving me a knowing smirk. “Those two will be dating in under a week, mark my words.”
“I thought you were a sexologist, not a love expert,” I said, cursing myself when his eyes got guarded. I always said the wrong thing.
“True,” he said in a clipped tone, opening my door for me then sliding into the driver's seat. Then we drove in silence again until we pulled up next to my car in the garage. “We have our final session on Monday.”
“I know,” I said, looking at my hands.
“Seven.”
“As always,” I said, getting out of the car.
As always, but for the last time.
After the Session
I cried. A lot. Then hated myself for it even more. It was a fun weekend.
Tenth Session
We never discussed what our final session would be. And I had spent my weekend debating my options. I could pick any one of our sessions: kissing and holding each other, chaste naked touching, mutual masturbation, fingering and hand jobs, oral sex, sex, toys, anal sex.
I considered each and every one of them.
Because I wanted him to kiss me again. Like we were waiting for the world to end. Like it was the last thing we would ever do. I wanted him to look at my naked body with the wonder of the first time. I wanted him to watch me touch myself, to watch him bring himself to orgasm. I wanted his fingers inside me, and to feel his cock in my hand. I wanted his face between my thighs and I wanted his cock in my mouth, to taste his desire. And, god, I wanted him inside me. I wanted him inside me with a need that was painful, both physically and emotionally.
I wanted him in every position.
I wanted him soft and sweet and loving.
I wanted him fast and rough and wild.
I just... wanted him.
I wanted him so badly.
In the end, sitting at the edge of my bed on Monday after work, I decided to skip them all. I decided to make it a clean break. I needed to move on. It would be easier to do so when things had been strained for the past few sessions. It would make walking away from him hurt a little less. And by “a little less” I meant... not the soul crushing ache inside I had been dealing with non-stop for days.
I showered, towel dried my hair, skipped the makeup, and slipped into a pair of dark skinny jeans and a pale pink sweater. I sprayed on Jake's perfume. And I felt more like myself than I had for a while in all those skimpy dresses and too much makeup.
“You don't have to go,” Shay said, sitting on the couch, watching me.
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you really think you are going to get closure by doing this?”
I grabbed my keys off the table, shaking my head. “No.”
“Then why go?”
I took a breath, looking up at her. “To prove to myself that I can.”
I let myself into his office and locked the door, but Chase was nowhere in sight. I took a few steps in, glancing around, checking the time to make sure I wasn't super early. But I was right on time. And he was always waiting. I moved toward his open office door, about to call out his name, when I saw him.
He was sitting in the chair he had sat in during our introductory session, his jacket off, his white shirt looking wrinkled. He had his head resting in his hand, a scotch in his other, resting on his outstretched leg.
And he just looked so... lost.
I had never really stopped to consider the toll his job must have taken on him. Not so much the surrogacy, but the therapy. Having to hear everyone's horror stories, helping when you can, knowing that sometimes you couldn't. It must have always felt like a weight on the shoulders. And that was what he seemed like, his shoulders down- weighted.
“Chase...” I said softly.
He didn't start. He simply turned his head slowly toward me. “Is it seven already?” he asked, his eyes small and tired-looking.
“Yeah,” I said, stepping into the room, moving toward him. “Are you okay?”
He gave me a small smile that didn't reach his eyes. “That's my question.”
“Well, I'm borrowing it,” I said, sitting down across from him.
He chuckled, setting his scotch down. “Do you want a drink?”
“No, thanks. I'm good on the alcohol front for a while.”
He ran a hand across his brow, looking at me. “You look better.”
“Better?” I asked, scrunching my brows together.
“Yeah, I don't know... more like yourself.” He paused, shrugging. “You're beautiful.”
There it was.
I swallowed, looking down at my hands as the blush crept up. “Thank you.”
“I figured you wanted a talk therapy session,” he said, waving a hand out.
“Yeah, I... yeah,” I said dumbly, cursing myself. “How does this go?”
He waved a hand. “We can talk about anything you want. How you think therapy went. Any concerns you have for the future...”
“How do you think therapy went?” I asked, worrying my hands together slightly.
The air in his office felt thick. Depressing. Like he had breathed it out and it stitched itself into every fabric and surface in the room.
He sat up slowly, leaning his elbows on his knees toward me. “Ava, you did so much better than I had anticipated.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, baby,” he said, wincing slightly. “Yes,” he said a little more firmly. “I really wasn't sure we would finish the sessions in the allotted amount of time. You were so withdrawn and timid and then you just... is blossomed too cliché a word?”
No. It was just right.
But I only blossomed because of him.
He was the gracious Sun. Me, the ungrateful Earth.
“Chase, I can't thank...”
“Don't,” he said, his words heavy. “Don't thank me, Ava.”
A silence hung then, long and full of words needing to be said.
“Ava,” he said finally, making me jump. “Can you come here for a second?” he asked, holding an arm out.
I wasn't exactly sure what he was asking, but I got to my feet and stepped closer. His hand reached out and touched my arm, pulling slightly. “Closer,” he said, sitting back in his chair. With my feet touching the feet of the chair, there was no way to get closer but to move into his lap. When I looked up, questioningly, his other arm reached out for me.
And my first thought was: no.
It was what I had been convincing myself shouldn't happen. It wasn't the clean break I said I needed.
But it was everything I wanted.
So I slid onto his lap and his arms went around me, pulling me close. I rested my head on his chest, his cheek coming down on top of my hair.
And he just... held me.
I closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat, steady, sure. His arms pulled me tighter and I carefully planted a kiss over his shirt, too soft for him to feel it.
For me, that was therapy.
His touch was a remedy. It was a cure.
A long time later, his hands drifted up and into my hair, stroking through it gently, tirelessly, as the clock ticked the better part of an hour away.
“Chase...”
“Yeah, baby?”
What could I say? What was left?
I sighed, shaking my head slightly. “You made me so much better.”
“No, babe. You made yourself better. I just helped you along.”
“Geez, learn to take a compliment, would you?” I asked and was rewarded with a small chuckle.
“You're amazing, Ava. Don't ever let anyone try to convince you otherwise. Promise me that.”
That was a tall order.
“I'll try.”
“Not good enough,” he said, kissing my hair. “Try again.”
I snorted, smiling a little. Bossy Chase. “Okay. I'll really try.”
“You're impossible,” he said and I could imagine the eye roll I was getting. “In the future, when you are with someone and...”
“The moment,” I cut in, surprising myself.
“I'm sorry?” Chase asked, his hands stilling.
I tilted my head up slightly to look at his face. “Someone once told me to be in the moment,” I explained. “I think that was pretty good advice,” I said, resting my head back against my safe place. I wanted to suck up every last bit of the feeling it gave me, to keep stored away, to bring out when I was lonely and sad and anxious.
I had a feeling there were a lot of those days ahead.
“Okay,” he said, and we stayed there, in that silent moment.
Until I drifted off.
Then woke up with a jolt out of a bad dream.
“Hey,” Chase's voice said, gruff, like he had been sleeping too. “You alright?”
“Dream,” I said, pushing myself up. I checked the clock then quickly got to my feet. I needed to go. The session was over. It was done. It was over. And I needed to leave. Before I kinda... lost it. Which was what I felt on the verge of doing.
“Where are you going?”
“It's almost one,” I said, searching for my keys and wallet.
“So what?” he asked, sitting forward.
“I just... it's time to go,” I said, turning.