Broken Wings

Part Thirty Eight - the lists part one!

Chapter Thirty Eight

Aaron knew that his mouth was hanging open, his jaw slack. He truly hadn't expected her to be there, and he was surprised, pleasantly so. She looked good, happy, he eyes really were sparkling, and she was laughing at his reaction.

"I didn't know you'd be here."

She nodded, "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"It is that, I was dreading a drive out to Long beach, Friday evening in the summer, it's hell."

She grinned, "well, I am here. And to thank you, I'm making dinner. A Mediterranean chicken thing with salad, and baked potatoes...I haven't had one in years. What do you think?"

She was rambling, the only outward sign that she was nervous – he knew her tells so well, but his stomach had rumbled as she spoke. He was starving, but hadn't even realised until now, he had been more concerned about her, "sounds great...are you ok?"

Filling a glass with white wine, she slid it across the breakfast bar to him, "I have to work Monday, I can't have any more time off. So, I'm back here, to get into the swing of things...and to once again, try to make it up to you."

He held up his hand to protest, but she silenced him, "no. I am. We are not arguing over this again, ok? It's old news."

Laughing, he reached for the glass and sipped at it, "so work?"

She nodded, leaning her hip against the work surface across the kitchen from him, "I'm ready, for work. I think Doctor Vasquez has put in fourteen hours with me this week, and I am feeling great. There are things I need to work on, things only I can sort. But I'm feeling better than I have for years."

That was music to his ears, and he relaxed onto his stool as he watched her dish up dinner for them.

"You've spoken to them at the museum?" Aaron asked as he laid the dining table for dinner. She was mixing a salad and nodded before stopping, turning to him, that smile still on her face. She was definitely in a different place. "I called the Head Curator in my department, and of course Alex. He's the lead on the actual wing we're in...I don't know, he's a bit weird, anyway. They were very understanding, and glad to see me next week."

He was silent watching her, and she groaned, "I'm ok, Aaron. So, I had this bloody meltdown. It's not the first time."

He knew he couldn't argue with that, she was so different to the woman who'd scowled at him during his brother's engagement party all those months ago, that was before the last two weeks. She was strong, happy, and more healthy than he'd seen her. "Tell me about this doctor then, is she as good as the psychologist at home? Is she worth it?"

She laid down the two plates, and lowered herself into a seat, all the time her eyes on him, "she's good. I've had enough counselling to sink a ship, and if you met Doctor Fleming back in London...well, you'd see. She's so normal, so amazing, she helps you see things without telling you. It's weird, but I'd had a few before her, but never gelled, she's like a friend." She paused to chew a piece of chicken that she'd been cutting as she spoke.

"I suppose that's what a counsellor should be, a non-judgemental friend. And she is, was...I don't know. But whilst we worked out so much, there's always been one area that she wasn't a...I don't know, a specialist in sex therapy."

He felt his mouth fall open and she chuckled, "not like a couple, you know who want more orgasms or to deal with weird fetishes, more like post abuse stuff."