Becoming My Ex’s Mother in Law by Aurora Starling
Chapter 68

Chapter 68 

We practiced for another hour after that. Our bodies continued to get close, pressing together and mixing our sweat as Andrew made me figure out how to counteract his different holds and attacks. His aroma and the feel of his hot skin against mine was very distracting, but I pressed on to avoid embarrassing myself in front of him. 

When Andrew finally called an end to our session, my underwear was soaked from sweat and arousal. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could have held out, even with Jeffrey watching us a few feet away. 

I took a drink from the water cooler near the back wall, and Andrew walked over to join me. 

“You should knock their socks off at the next self–defense class,” he said before taking a drink of water. 

“You think so?” 

“If what I saw today is any indication, most certainly.” 

“Thanks. Now if I can access my werewolf abilities while under duress, I’ll be on the right track.” 

Andrew wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. 

“Are you really worried about that?” 

I took a moment to answer. 

“When the vampires attacked me, Susan–my wolf–tried to take over, but it was a slower process than one would have expected. One of the vampires was able to jump me and bite me, injecting me with venom so that I couldn’t 

Shift. I think that I might have that whole ‘flight‘ part of ‘fight or flight‘ that might have slowed down my shifting abilities.” 

Andrew nodded with the sage understanding of the Alpha King. 

“Hopefully, your teachers at the self–defense class will be able to help you get past that,” he said. “If not, you and I can work on it, just like we’re working on the advanced tactics.” 

I smiled slightly. 

“Thank you, Andrew. You’re too kind to me.” 

It’s nothing less than what you deserve.” 

Andrew poured himself more water. 

“That reminds me, I’ve been wondering how you have been dealing with the aftermath of the kidnapping and vampire attack. Mentally and emotionally, I 

mean. 

I hesitated. I didn’t want to tell him the truth; it was my burden to bear, after all. At the same time, with everything that Andrew had done for me, he deserved nothing less than the truth. 

I sighed and tossed my paper cup into the nearby trash can. 

“Horribly.” 

“What do you mean? What’s been happening?” 

I could scarcely keep back the tears as I spoke. 

“I know that Jeffrey is always looking out for me, but I can’t help always looking over my shoulder, waiting for someone to attack me. I’m having the worst time. sleeping, whether it’s at night or naps during the day. The nightmares…they’re horrific.” 

Andrew wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I let my head fall into his chest, burying my face in his shirt. My tears mingled with his sweat as I silently cried. 

“Do you want to talk about them? The nightmares, I mean,” he asked as he rubbed my arm soothingly. 

Flashes of the Hannigan Brothers and Ciaran, ropes and guns in hand, shot through my mind. They were quickly replaced by the vampires surrounding me and descending upon me, their fangs piercing my flesh until I wanted to cry out in pain. I stiffened, and the tears flowed more freely. 

“No,” I said, more sharply than I had intended. 

Without missing a beat, as though he had known that I would say that, Andrew immediately responded with, “Would you want to share them with a trauma counselor?” 

I pulled away from his chest and stared him in the face. 

“A trauma counselor? Like for people with PTSD?” 

8 Jan F 

“They can deal with people who have PTSD, but in general, they specialize in treating patients who experience instances of trauma. Given what you’ve gone through and how you’re reacting to it, I think that you qualify.” 

Something inside me shattered. Could I really be so broken that I needed a therapist? 

“I know a really good one,” Andrew continued. “I can get you in contact with her, if you want.” 

looked at the ground, suddenly fascinated by our shoeless feet. 

“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you really think that I need to see one?” 

“I think that it’s a better option than you continuing to look over shoulder all the time and losing sleep to these nightmares.” 

Andrew squeezed my shoulders and k*ssed the top of my head. 

“Crystal, I don’t want you to suffer,” he continued. He took a business card out of his pocket and held it out to me. “Will you at least give her a call?” 

Deep down, I knew that he was right. These feelings weren’t going to go away on their own. I just didn’t know how talking to a counselor would help. 

I reluctantly took the card. 

“I will.” 

To my chagrin, the trauma counselor–Dr. Whitney Sherman–had an opening three days later. I took it just so that I could tell Andrew that I had an appointment. I didn’t see any harm in it at the time. 

Yet the closer the day got, the more my anxiety grew. 

The afternoon of the appointment came, and my stomach was in knots. I could hardly concentrate on my clients at the bridal shop. Terri asked me what was wrong, and all that I could tell her was that I was nervous about my appointment- though what the appointment was for, I wouldn’t tell her. 

At 3 p.m., an hour and a half before my appointment, I clutched at my stomach as my anxiety overtook me. No, I couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t do this. 

I could not stand the thought of talking about the deepest details of the vampire 

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attack, or any of the attacks that came before it, with a complete stranger, let alone the nightmares and paranoia that had been happening since then. What if she asked questions about who had done it? What if she told me that there was something seriously wrong with me as a result of these attacks? 

What if she thought that the attacks were my fault? 

My hand trembling, I lifted my phone and dialed Dr. Sherman’s number. 

“Good afternoon, you’ve reached Dr. Sherman’s office. How can I help you?” an all- too–peppy feminine voice answered. 

“Hi, my name is Crystal Blanchard, and I have an appointment with Dr. Sherman at 4:30 p.m. today. I’m not feeling well, so I’m going to have to cancel that.” 

“Okay, but you’re going to incur a $30 cancellation fee.” 

I mentally groaned. I hated the idea of taking on another expense, even with my increased income, but I knew that there would be a cost for cancelling at the last minute. 

“That’s fine.” 

“Are you going to need to reschedule the appointment for a later date?” 

“I..will 

“I… will call you back about that.” 

“All right. Is there anything else I can do for you today?” 

“No, thank you.” 

“No problem. Have a good day.” 

“You, too.” 

As I hung up, I let out a long breath of relief. Still, I knew I wasn’t out of the woods just yet. Andrew was going to kill me once he learned that I skipped that appointment. 

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