Affectionately ruffling his hair, I see that Kit has a beer on the table and Jett has a Coke. I grab myself a wine glass from the cupboard and fill it with a white I opened yesterday. The pizza boxes are already open and being devoured before I make it back to the table with my glass of wine and some paper napkins in hand.

I toss a napkin over to Kit and hand one to Jett. I take the seat next to him and grab a slice before they’re gone.


Kit can eat a pizza by himself, and Jett’s not far off from being able to do so either.

At twelve years old, he has so much of my brother and me in him—and, thankfully, nothing of his father. Not that I’d love him any less if he did. I’m just glad there isn’t any of that man in him.

Jett is a Harris through and through. He has our blond hair and blue eyes and Kit’s build. I’m five-six, and my son is already taller than me. I think he’s going to reach Kit’s six-three, and I wouldn’t be surprised if Jett surpasses that.

My brother is a handsome bastard, and he knows it. Jett is his double, so I foresee a lot of broken hearts in his future. Kit leaves a trail of them in his wake. I’m trying to teach Jett to treat women with more respect than my brother does.

Kit’s job exposes him to a lot of beautiful women. He’s a model.

When Jett was a few months old, Kit started modeling part-time to make more money when he wasn’t working seasonal construction jobs. His money helped me pay the bills. From the compensation I had received from the courts after what had happened with Jett’s father, I didn’t have a lot leftover after paying for the house and using the rest to put myself through school while I also worked part-time in a supermarket.

I owe my brother everything. He’s sacrificed so much for Jett and me.

As time has gone on, Kit’s gotten larger campaigns, some that take him out of the country, but we always make it work to ensure one of us is here for Jett. If a job doesn’t fit with our schedules, Kit doesn’t take it. He’s in the position now where he can pick and choose his jobs.

Putting my slice down on the napkin, I take a drink of my much-needed wine.

After my session with Leandro Silva—which was definitely enlightening and very interesting—I took a frantic call from Sarah, another one of my patients. She’s having a really tough time at the moment.

Three years ago, Sarah broke things off with her boyfriend. He stalked her for months, and one night, he broke into her home while she was sleeping and raped her in her bed.

He went to prison for his crime. But he’s now out on parole after serving only half of his sentence, and she’s struggling to cope with that fact.

I’ve been treating Sarah since the rape, and she was reaching a good place in her life and finally moving forward. So, his release, which was a shock to her, has set her back miles.

She’s afraid to leave her home, in fear of seeing him. She’s terrified that he might come get her again even though a restraining order is in place. She has that fear, and I understand it.

It took me an hour to talk her down on the phone, and I had to promise that I would go to her house first thing in the morning for a face-to-face appointment. With my appointment calendar full, I will have to come in an hour earlier. But there aren’t many things I wouldn’t do for my patients.

“How’d the new patient go today?” Kit asks me.

Besides the odd bits, like if I’m taking on a new patient, I don’t talk to Kit or Jett about my patients or tell them who they are.

“It was fine.”

“Do you think you can help him or her?” Jett asks me.

I smile at him. “Yes, I’m sure I can.”

It’s a good thing I don’t tell them who my patients are, or Jett would have a meltdown. He’s obsessed with Formula 1.

If he found out that I was treating Leandro Silva—let alone that I had been treating Andressa Ryan, the wife of Carrick Ryan—he would bug me until I let him meet them.

Leandro Silva is a whole other ballgame though.

Of course I’d known he was handsome, but seeing him in the flesh exposed me to the actual beauty of him, and it knocked me off-balance for a moment. Then, I kicked myself into professional mode. I’m nothing but professional.

But just hearing about his accident, how he’d almost died, what he was going through now…

Don’t get me wrong. I hear all manner of heartbreaking stories of what people have endured, but listening to him struck a chord with me in a way that not many people do.

“So, how was school today?” I ask Jett.

He flickers a look at Kit, who smiles at him and nods.

“Am I missing something here?” I look between the pair of them.

“I got picked for the team.” Jett gives me a shy grin.

“You did? That’s amazing news!” I wrap my arms around him, hugging him. Leaning back, I look at his face. “I thought they were going to pick the team next week?”

“They brought it forward.”

Aside from being a Formula 1 nut, my son also loves football. And he’s been picked for the school team.

“We need to celebrate!” I exclaim. “We’ll go out this weekend, do something.”

“Sounds great. Anyway, I’ve got to go finish my homework. I have to keep my grades up, or I’ll be kicked off the team before I even get started.”

I’m about to protest about him finishing his dinner when I see that he’s already eaten half of the pizza and is taking another slice with him.

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