I’m staring a beady-eyed, fluffy teddy bear in the face. His nose is black, and he has a cute little stitched smile stretched across his face.

Surrounding him are candles in all different scents—lavender, Georgia peach, limoncello, cinnamon apple, and clean linen, just to name a few. But there’s more than I can even begin to process.

Also strewn around the table are countless individually wrapped chocolates and a big vase with two dozen roses.

“Who could this be from?” I ask myself sarcastically.

I set down my shopping bags right there at the door and walk over to my gift-covered, California king-sized bed. I graze my fingers along the bear’s soft fur and smirk.

In the bear’s comically sized arms, camouflaged by the overall display of lavish gifts, lies a large heart-shaped envelope. I take it and examine it closely.

I tear the top flap of the envelope from the adhesive and pull out a giant card. The front says I’m sorry.

I open the card, and reading the inside sends a flood of butterflies fluttering through my stomach.

You were right.

I’m more than aware of how creeped out I should be right now.

I should be worried. I should tell someone about this. Anyone.

This isn’t safe.

How did Jaxon get this here?

How did he find out where I live?

How did he know I love candles?

I haven’t divulged any of this during our meetings. Not even one hint. Have I?

But now I have this bear and candles and chocolate and flowers in front of me, all as a gesture of how much he appreciates me and all that I’ve done for him.

Maybe he’s coming around after all.

He made a mistake. He knows that.

And he’s remorseful. At least enough to apologize to me. And that’s a hell of a start, if you ask me.

He must really care about me. It must’ve been an incredible amount of effort to get this bear in here.

I walk back to my door and examine it for any signs of forced entry. Nothing. And I’m on the second floor, so there’s no real probability that someone climbed through the window.

He’s got me stumped—absolutely puzzled. Somehow, he managed to get it here and have it all set up.

And whoever did it did a beautiful job. Everything’s so well laid-out and just incredibly beautiful.

Color me dazzled. Wooed, even.

Jaxon Covington is a remarkable man. That charm, the wit, the big heart I’m getting to see right on his sleeve—at least when I'm around.

I’m beginning to see that I’m wearing mine around him as well. And while that’s a scary idea, being that it’s just utterly new territory for me, I’m willing to embrace it.

For him.

For this.

I need to continue our sessions. I need to help him more—to see him progress even further toward being a clinically sane man.

What a joy it’ll be to have my first major case be a full, successful rehabilitation.

It really must’ve taken a lot for Jaxon to admit fault and to absorb the blame for his mistake.

I climb onto my bed and lie next to all my new gifts from Jaxon, opening candles to smell their individual scents, unwrapping and eating a few chocolates, and just moving around, gently and truly appreciating what Jaxon has done for me.

After a few moments, I decide to get up and get the roses into a vase. I grab the massive bouquet and bring them to the kitchen.

I grab a large glass vase from under the sink and fill it with water. Then I take a pair of scissors and cut the ends from the stems on the flowers and place them in one by one.

Once they’re all in, I take a deep whiff of the fresh petals and rest the vase on my dining room table.

It can serve as a constant reminder of Jaxon’s gesture and how I shouldn’t be so discouraged.

After all, everyone makes mistakes. Gosh, even I’ve made plenty lately. And just because he’s made the case just a little harder doesn’t mean I shouldn’t recognize progress.

And then it dawns on me that not going to work today made me miss my session with him.

But I need to see him. I need to acknowledge the changes he’s made. I need to reward them.

Because what good is a positive deed if it goes unrecognized?

I do some quick thinking and give my boss a call. As my phone’s pressed to my ear, my heart’s thumping hard.

“Yes, Alison?”

“Yes! Hello, sir!” I return. “I wanted to apologize for my absence today. I was feeling terribly sick. I’m just now getting up and around.”

I know it’s wrong. I really do. Lying is not the way I should go, but I need to be careful, and this is the safest way to stay out of trouble and stay on assignment.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ms. Hughes. I trust that you’ll be back to work tomorrow?”

“Yes, absolutely. I just want to be sure I can cover everything I need to with Jax—Mr. Covington,” I stammer.

“Okay? What are you suggesting?”

“I just need to be able to block out a little extra time just in case I can’t get all that I need done at once.”

“I see. Well, I appreciate your dedication. Being sick, especially. I think we can arrange it. Take the time you need tomorrow. And rest up.”

“Thank you, sir!” I say and end the call.

There.

Now I can be sure to properly thank him for my gifts and get working on making him better.

I’m just so excited that he’s made this much progress. That he’s come so far.

Psychopaths don’t show remorse—and Jaxon has. This is the biggest revelation the world is about to see, and I can’t wait to be a part of the unveiling.

I turn around and head back into my room to marvel more at the rest of my gifts.

I take a couple of the candles and light them on my nightstands before I lay in my bed, eating my chocolates.

Nothing can bring me down right now.