CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Bri had just finished recounting the particulars of her experience last year up until her liberation. Blaser hadn’t even questioned her when she asked him to join her therapy session. Granted, he’d been fidgety on the drive over, but nerves showed he cared about their relationship and about her.
Lyssa was professional in accepting them both into the office and facilitated the discussion. Bri glanced over at the doctor, then they both went back to watching Blaser’s back, as he stood facing the blind-covered front window.
Squeezing the tip of her pinkie, she released and squeezed, each time with increasing pressure. “Say something, Love,” Bri said.
Blaser didn’t respond, so Lyssa spoke up. “What do you feel, Blase? It’s natural to be angry or—”
“Angry?” he said, spi
