Chapter 11
Caitlin
In the silence between s*x and sleep, Paolo’s deep voice cracks the darkness.
“Who hurt you, doll?” We’re spooning, my back to his front, his arm around me, hand molded over my breast.
I go still, listening to the sounds of our breath, making sure I know what he means. Even though I’m pretty sure I do, I warble, “What do you mean?”
He waits a beat. Then he says, “Tell me about the checking out thing.”
My heart starts hammering. He must feel it because he shifts his hand to rest over my heart instead. His lips come to my nape. “Don’t be afraid. Just tell me.”
I don’t know if afraid is the right word. But I’m broken. Damaged. And I don’t like looking at my brokenness.
I lick my lips. “The official diagnosis is depersonalization-derealization disorder. It’s one of t
