“Lita, are you saying, on a whim, you revealed to your father and the man you once loved, Diarmid’s involvement in your r**e?” Sabby was blunt.
Lita exhaled and met the dark, coal-like eyes of her friend and therapist with a nod. “Yes. He came home from being out. I offered him my room to sleep in like a good hostess would. He wanted to talk about kissing me. I thought,” she looked away from Sabby’s direct gaze, “at worst he would apologize for kissing me and at best tell me how it was all a mistake. I didn’t expect him to tell me I had grown into “his type” and then list out reasons it was never going to happen again. So, I gave him exactly what he deserved.”
“What he deserved?”
“His type is crazy, Sabby.” She saw recognition and a smile twist the features of her friend. “He likes craz
