Chapter 281 Needed help

Chapter 281 Needed help
I had always believed I came out the other side of every one of those things intact. Bruised, maybe, but whole. What if I hadn’t? What if I’d simply been shoving each piece down further and further, telling myself I was fine because falling apart had never once been an option available to me?

I wasn’t okay. I needed help.

And here he was, Fabian Trevanti, my stepbrother, the boy who’d been obsessed with me since we were both too young to understand what that meant, the man who’d fought tooth and nail through every version of hell to keep us together despite every time I’d run, every time I’d pushed him away out of fear I didn’t even fully understand myself. 

The most important piece of my life outside of Lila. The man who’d taken my dark, complicated existence and set it on fire with light, until I could barely stand to look directly at how much I loved him. And here he sat with me on the cold tile of a balcony floor, in the middle of the darkest stretch of my life so far, quietly handing me a way forward.

It was something I would have found eventually, on my own, the way I always had. But I was tired of doing everything alone. Bone-deep, soul-tired. 

I had a man in front of me who looked at me like I was the sun he’d built his whole orbit around, and a daughter back home who looked up to me the same way. I owed it to both of them, and finally, for once, to myself, to get better. To find my way back to the Indigo I used to be before all of this.

Nicolai was dead. I had killed him myself, exactly as I’d promised I would. And even though he’d found a way to take one more thing from me on his way out, that was going to be the last thing he ever managed to steal. 

I hope you’re rotting wherever you are, Nicolai. I hope whatever comes after this life hurts you worse than I did.

Sniffing hard, I wiped my eyes again and took the card from Fabian’s hand. He smiled at me, that same pride still lighting his features, and something in me stirred back to life at the sight of it, something close to excitement after days of feeling absolutely nothing. He held his phone out to me next, letting me be the one to punch in the numbers myself.

It rang once. Twice. Then someone picked up.

“Dr. Graham’s office, this is Marissa speaking. How can I help you today?”

I glanced at Fabian, who gave me a small, encouraging nod, his eyes steady on mine. I exhaled slowly, straightened my spine, and cleared my throat before answering.

“Hi. This is Indigo Bianchi. I’m calling to schedule a session.”