Nathan had a visitor.

Nathan never had visitors.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I apologized, but I wasn’t sure what for. Interrupting them? Seeing them? Being me?

I was sure my eyes were wide as I took in the graying brown hair and crisp blue eyes of the attractive older man, occupying a cushion on Nathan’s couch. My attention moved back to Nathan and he beckoned me to his side. I was nervous as I walked to stand next to him, still in shock at seeing another person in his home and not knowing how to act because of it.

“Lila, I’d like to introduce you to my father, George Thorne. Dad this is Lila, my…my Lila.” His grip tightened on my waist, pulling me closer to him.

A gasp drew my attention back to the man I now knew as Nathan’s father. He was looking at me with surprised eyes, filled with joy.

He held out his hand. “Lila, it’s a real pleasure to meet you.”

Stepping away from Nathan, I walked forward and took his hand in mine. “You as well, Mr. Thorne.”

His fingers curled around my hand. “George, please.”

His gaze moved down to my arm, and shock covered his entire face. It was quickly replaced with a forced smile.

I looked down to see what brought about the change.

Nathan’s hand print on my bicep and the light bruises on my wrist from where I had pulled at his tie when he had restrained me to the bed the previous night.

“Are you staying for dinner, George? I’m making chicken marsala.” I pulled my hand free from his and stepped back to Nathan’s side.

“No, no thank you, my dear. I would love to, but Mrs. Thorne is expecting me home soon,” he said, that forced smile still in place, and his jaw tight.

I could feel the tension in the air as George looked from Nathan and back to me.

“Well…I’ll just let you return to your conversation, and I’ll go work on dinner. It was very nice meeting you, George.”

As soon as I was out of view, I heard George speak in hushed, harsh tones.

“Nathan, are you…hurting her?”

“What?” Nathan sounded truly bewildered.

“Son, she has bruises on her biceps and wrists. Are you abusing that girl?”

I stopped all movement in complete shock. He thought Nathan was hurting me? The thought made me sick. Nathan healed me, he never hurt me. The thought that someone, anyone, let alone his own father, had doubts about the kind of man Nathan was, didn’t sit well with me. I couldn’t let it continue. I wouldn’t.

I stormed out of the kitchen and into the living room, my hands at the hem of my shirt.

“He is not hurting me,” I said, my voice raised and shaking. How could he even consider his son capable of abuse?

“Lila, no.” Nathan reached for my hands. The panic was evident in his features.

“No. He has to see. I will not allow your father to think you are abusing me! That you are hurting me!” I argued, pulling at my top.

Nathan’s hands pushed mine back down.

“I said no, baby. Only I get to see you without your clothes, even if my father is a doctor.”

We stared off, neither backing down from our positions.

“Fine,” I conceded, my hands released the hem. Turning to George, I lifted my hair up, exposing the area hidden beneath. He gasped as his gaze took in the obvious bite marks on my neck and shoulder, hand print bruises on my arms, and my tank top exposed the bruises and bites along my chest. “I’m an easy bruiser, Mr. Thorne. Malice and hate does not mark me. Nathan’s passion and need do. I know the sting of an angry hand and that is something Nathan does not have with me.”

Sadness etched George’s face and I could see the same emotion in Nathan’s. He lifted his hand up and caressed the marks he had left there. Leaning forward he placed light reverent kisses where he’d just touched.

I grabbed a hold of Nathan’s shirt and pulled his collar back aside to show his father the matching bite marks I’d given his son. “See? He’s not doing anything to me that I don’t want him to. We just get a little…carried away, is all.”

George cleared his throat, gaining Nathan’s attention again. Nathan pulled his head back, his hand gathering mine and lowering it down to our sides.

“I’m sorry, Lila, Nathan. I was just concerned. It’s apparent your anger is getting out of control. I mean, look at what you’ve done to the entryway in the past few months. I was just worried that you…Darren told me you haven’t been by in months. He wanted me to let you know he won’t refill your prescriptions anymore unless you get back in to see him.”

Nathan’s hand released mine and moved to his face, rubbing at his eyes. “I know, I know.”

“This is serious, son. I want you to get better. I want to see you smiling again. I want to see you happy.” George’s gaze flickered to me. “But you’ll never be any of those if you don’t get help.”

Nathan snorted in response. “Yeah, because the last three and a half f**king years of therapy have done wonders.”

“It only works if you actually want help and work at getting better. Not going in months, not talking to him about your new relationship… Things are changing for you, and you need some support to help you get through this, work through this. To move on, so you aren’t weighed down any longer. You deserve it, as does Lila,” George said, love and concern written all over his face. “You’re going through your meds at a much faster rate than usual. David also told me you missed your last appointment.”

“I had to reschedule it, that’s all.” Nathan’s tone was a bit harsh in his agitation. “And I’ll call and get in with Darren this week.”

“Because you’re out of meds?”

Nathan sighed and nodded in agreement, his father seeing the truth.

“Well, I should be headed out now before your mother begins to worry.” George pushed off the couch and moved to stand in front of Nathan. He wrapped his arms around his son, pulling him into a fierce hug. “I love you, Nathan.”

Nathan hugged his father back with matched ferocity. “I love you too, Dad.”

To my surprise and shock, George wrapped his arms around me and whispered in my ear. “Thank you, Lila. Please take good care of him.”

I stood frozen in his arms for a moment, and then with slow, tentative movements, my arms wrapped around him. I still wasn’t good with hugs, and sudden ones, such as George’s, were the hardest.