Alexa and the Badboy
Later that evening, curled up on the couch in his apartment with a blanket wrapped around us and the soft hum of music in the background, he took my hand gently.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low but serious.
I looked down at the small, folded brochure on the coffee table between us.
‘Healing Horizons: Trauma Recovery & Couples Therapy.’
I nodded. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Devon exhaled, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I just… I don’t want to drag you into my mess again. I don’t want you to carry things that aren’t yours.”
“You’re not dragging me anywhere,” I said, gripping his hand tighter. “This isn’t about carrying your pain, Dev. It’s about sharing the weigh
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