Man of Honor (Passion in Paradise Book 4) (30 page)

“That’s
understandable.  How do you feel about your Intervention now?  Do you still
feel like we took advantage of the situation?”

“In some ways, but
I’ve had time to accept that everybody that was in that room with me cares
about me.  They want me to be happy…or the happiest version of me that I can
be.  To do that, it’s become clear that I’ve got some demons to face.”

“You know you’re not
alone.  Every one of us has demons.  Some are more dangerous than others, but
you shouldn’t feel like you’re on your own.  Plus, your demons are pretty real,
Honor.  They aren’t just in your past.  They’re in your present, too.  That’s
got to be difficult to come to terms with.”

“Yeah,” Honor
admitted on a shaky breath. “It’s a… challenge.”

Bree chuckled and
shook her head.  “Honor, that’s not a challenge.  A challenge is sticking to a
diet when somebody dangles a chocolate donut in front of you.  What you’re
looking at is a scary-as-heck daily test of your mental fortitude and
strength.  Challenge is a very mild word for what you face on an everyday
basis.  You don’t have to try and diminish what you’re going through.  Not to
me and not to anyone else.”

“Everyone has their
struggles.”

“They do,” Bree
agreed.  “And some folks have much larger, more serious struggles than others. 
I think anyone that knows you will agree that you fall in that category,
Honor.  You shouldn’t feel like you should be ashamed of struggling.”

“Maybe,” Honor said,
reluctantly accepting the doctor’s statement as truth.  “But admitting out loud
that I’m struggling… it pulls attention toward me.  I hate that,” she confided
quietly.  “Being the object of everyone’s stares and notice… I’d rather peel my
skin off.    It’s one of the reason’s that I fought the idea of therapy for so
long – I
knew
I’d be the center of attention.  It was bad enough with my
sisters constantly watching me, gauging my mood like it was some kind of
emotional thermostat they need to monitor.  Now, I feel like everybody will be
watching me even more, looking at me to see what kind of progress I’m making.”

“Has it occurred to
you that if you make enough progress, they won’t have anything to watch?” Bree
queried curiously.

“That very idea is
one of the main things that convinced me to walk through your door.  I know I’m
not supposed to say this, but I’m hoping you can if not help me be normal, at
least be able to
act
normal.”

Dr. Daniels nose
curled at that.  “You know, therapists hate that word.”

“Normal?” Honor
asked.

“That’s the one.  We
hate it because there’s no such thing.  Every single person with a working
pulse has a different idea of what normal is.  There is no typical normal,
Honor.  It doesn’t exist.  Therapy is designed to help the patient be the best
possible version of yourself that you can be.  If you came in here looking for
some kind of standardized
normal
, I’m sorry, but you won’t find it.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard
that before,” Honor grumbled.

Bree offered her an
understanding look.  “From your sisters or from the sheriff?”

“Zeke,” Honor shared.

Nodding, Bree
scribbled something on her pad.  “My receptionist, Cheyenne, said that he
accompanied you in this morning for your appointment.”

Honor nodded.

“Do you mind if I ask
how your relationship has been since the Intervention.  When you left the café
that day, you’d virtually banished him from your life, hadn’t you?”

“Yes,” Honor agreed
with a wince.  “I said some very unkind and untrue things to him first,
though.  It’s no excuse, but that day, I just wanted everyone in the café to
hurt as much as I was hurting, standing there listening to everyone give me
ultimatums.  I’m beyond ashamed of some of the things that came out of my
mouth.  My family and Zeke suffered for it, too.  I can’t undo it, but I’ve
done my best to make amends.”

“Is that part of why
you’ve agreed to therapy?”

“Part of it,” Honor
conceded.  “The biggest part of my decision though is that I’m so tired of
carrying around all this shame and ugliness inside me.  Eight years ago, a big
part of what made me who I was got torn away.  Those men stole my innocence, my
safety, and a part of my sanity away from me.  I’ve tried to put myself back
together, but none of the pieces seem to fit right anymore.  I’m all jagged
edges and chipped pieces, Bree.  I guess I’m hoping you’ll be able to find a
way to make me feel whole again.”

“What was taken from
you can never be replaced, Honor, but I believe you can move past it.  First,
however, you’ve got to deal with what you lost.  You’ve got to confront all
those ugly memories and make some sense out of them.  I understand that you’re
still facing a threat from at least one of your rapists, correct?”

Wrapping her arms
around herself, Honor nodded.  “Two of them are still out there somewhere,” she
shared painfully.  “Zeke believes at least one of them is still in Paradise.”

“The one sending you
the notes, yes?” Bree clarified. 

Honor bobbed her head
jerkily.  “The notes have kept coming.  Sometimes with pictures, sometimes
not,” she confessed worriedly.  “I don’t look at them anymore.  Zeke handles
them.  Lately, whoever this is has stepped up his game.  I’ve been getting
phone calls.”

“That must be awfully
scary.”

“It is.  The calls
come from an untraceable number.  Zeke says it’s a burner phone.  At any rate,
every few days, my cell will ring and he’ll just sit there, breathing. If Zeke
is around, he’ll answer the call, but usually he gets me at work.  I’m scared,
but not quite as badly as I would have been if I’d been staying with Diego
instead of Zeke.  Luckily, Zeke is back to staying with me at the house again.”

“So, you did invite
him back into your home?” Bree prompted.

“Yes.”  Honor smiled
sadly.  “He agreed to return almost as soon as I asked.  Zeke is a good man. 
He wants to protect me, and truthfully, in order to not lose my mind, I need to
let him do that for me.”

“That’s a really
great breakthrough to have.  Being able to freely accept the help of others is
critical to getting emotionally healthy again,” Bree praised with a pleased
smile.  “It sounds like you’ve made your peace with needing Zeke in your life. 
Do you think his presence in your day to day life is a temporary thing or
something more permanent?”

“Zeke’s always been a
part of my life for as long as I can remember,” Honor revealed quietly. 
“Honestly, he’s been the best part of my day for what seems like forever.  It’s
just…” Honor trailed off, not quite comfortable sharing so much of herself so
quickly with the doctor.

“Honor, safe place,
remember?  What were you going to say?”

Tamping down on her
unease, Honor plowed ahead.  “I just think Zeke can do a whole lot better than
an emotionally damaged girl with as many physical scars as mental ones.  He
deserves more than that.”

“Ah,” Aubrey sighed. 
“And have you shared these feelings with Zeke?”

“Some of them.  He
just always says that I’m what he’s found who makes him happy, and he swears
all he wants is me,” Honor informed her simply. 

“Do you think he’s
lying?”

“Not intentionally. 
I think he’s convinced himself that he loves me out of some misplaced guilt he
has over not being able to stop what happened to me all those years ago.”

“During the
intervention, it sounded like you held him somewhat responsible, too,” Bree
pointed out gently.  “Can you talk to me a little about that?”

Pinching the bridge
of her nose as her words came back to haunt her, Honor took a second to think
about how she wanted to tackle this subject.  She could dismiss it and simply
say that she’d spoken hastily in anger or she could actually share her feelings
with someone else… hopefully someone that wouldn’t judge her for the way she
still felt after all this time.  “Logically, I know that if Zeke could give
anything to take away what happened to me all those years ago, he would.  If he
could travel back in time and take a different course of action, he would.  For
that matter, so would I.  I’d
jump
in that car when Zeke offered me that
ride.  I
wouldn’t
tell him I’d be fine and to go ahead without me. 
Unfortunately, neither of us has magical powers that I know of.  We can’t go
back and change anything. We have to deal with what
did
happen.”

“That’s true,” Bree
agreed.  “That old saying, ‘hindsight is often twenty/twenty’ has it on the
money, doesn’t it?”

Honor hummed her
agreement.  “For a long time, I swore that I didn’t hold Zeke responsible.  I
swore it to him.  To my family.  To myself, even.  And that’s still largely
true.  I guess in the last few years I’ve just began to wonder why he
did
listen to me.  I was a kid.  A teenager that thought she knew what was best for
her.  But he was a grown man.  An adult and a police officer that was supposed
to know more than me.  I know why I didn’t get in the car.  I never imagined
anything like what happened happening to me.  Not even in my ugliest
nightmares.  And when I saw that he had that woman in the car with… when I saw
the way she was looking at me... like an inconvenience that she didn’t want to
ruin her night… I decided that I could wait for my ride.  But Zeke… he put that
woman and his own desire for her before my potential safety.  When he left me
there, alone, on the side of the road, he was letting his manly desires for her
dictate who his duty was to.  I don’t think either of us saw it that way then,
but now…”

“Time has changed
your perception of the events that occurred.  Very probably, for both of you,”
Bree pointed out perceptively, watching Honor’s face cloud.

“I suppose it has.  I
hate it.  I know if he could, Zeke would do anything to change things for me.”

“I think so, too.”

“You do?” Honor
asked, mildly surprised.

“Absolutely.  It’s
clear that you are the most important thing in Ezekiel’s life, Honor. 
Now
.”

“What do you mean by
now?
”
Honor questioned, tilting her head to the side as she stared at the doctor,
confused by her statement.

“Just that, Honor. 
Right now, at this moment in time, you are the most important person in Zeke’s
life.  But you weren’t important to him then – at least not in the way you are
now.  And I think a part of you is hurt by that.  Perhaps even a little
jealous.  What you have to understand is that Zeke was –as you said - an
already grown man eight years ago.  Going on a date with a woman wouldn’t have
been something he should have to apologize for doing.  You were – as you’ve
said – a teenager.  There couldn’t have been any kind of deeper relationship
between you and the sheriff back then.  I’d bet you didn’t even see him in
those terms during that time.”

“No, I didn’t,” Honor
acquiesced huskily as she listened intently to everything the other woman said
to her.

“So, really, the fact
that he was on a date didn’t bother you
then. 
It troubles you now. 
Because
now
, you see Zeke as much more than just an officer of the law
that was supposed to protect you from the bad men.  Now, he’s the man you count
on above everyone else to shield you from anything that might cause you pain. 
And the thought of him sitting in the car with that woman…being on a date with
her while you were being hurt…it pains you, doesn’t it?”

Jaw dropping, Honor
stared at the doctor with a kind of horrified fascination.  “Oh, my,” she
breathed weakly as the truth behind her words seeped into Honor’s
consciousness.  “I never thought about it like that.”

“That’s part of what
therapy is for, Honor.  Seeing things that you hadn’t noticed before and
looking at a situation from different angles are part of the process,” Bree
explained.

“I never thought I
was jealous of her.  I mean, I never liked her and when I learned exactly what
the intimate side of her relationship with Zeke entailed, I liked her even
less, but I never would have labeled my feelings for Sherry as jealousy.  Not
until now anyway,” she added in a mutter.

“Sherry?  That’s the
woman who was with Zeke the night you were taken?” Bree inquired blandly.

“Yes,” Honor replied,
her voice faint as her mind tried to process everything she was learning about
herself.  “She and Zeke saw each other for a little while after my… incident,
but then they ended things.  I don’t know any details beyond that,” she
explained, watching as Bree scribbled a few more notations on her pad.  Seeing
the other woman adjust in her seat, crossing one slim leg over the other, Honor
envied how together the other woman seemed to have things.  From her stylish
outfit of a black pencil skirt paired with a shiny emerald green silk tunic to
the tidy French twist her red hair was swept into, the psychiatrist exuded a
class that couldn’t be faked.  Honor felt plumb dowdy by comparison in her
black slacks and fitted white dress shirt, her hair pulled in a simple high
ponytail.

“Hey, Honor…what were
you thinking about just now?” Bree asked, pulling Honor’s attention back to her
flawlessly made-up face.