Total pages in book: 213
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201920 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1010(@200wpm)___ 808(@250wpm)___ 673(@300wpm)
“Well, really well,” I answer, letting out an easy breath as I pick my feet up and slip them under me to get comfortable.
“Moving was a good change, a new environment for both of us.”
“So everything went smoothly?”
“Better than I thought. Daniel took over the lease at the place I’d been renting.”
“And Daniel is Dean’s friend?” he asks me.
“Yeah, he’s a good guy,” I say and my heart races as I talk. Because I’m hiding the truth. I’m keeping what I overheard just yesterday to myself. Daniel has his own demons, but that’s not my story to tell. It’s his and he’ll get through it. I know he will.
He nods in approval although he doesn’t write anything. The book stays on his lap, the pen sitting on top. My eyes keep flickering to it; I always wonder which parts of our session Dr. Robinson deems worthy of recording.
“We got a golden retriever,” I tell him. “He’s just a fluffy puppy, but he’s sweet.”
“You got him together?” he asks me.
“My mother got him for us.”
“And how does that make you feel?”
“You sound like a shrink when you ask me that,” I tell him.
“And you sound like you’re deflecting.” He’s quick to call me on my shit.
My eyes fall on the coffee table and I feel a tug at my heartstrings. “I feel like he’s too good for me.” I speak without looking up at Dr. Robinson, but the telltale sign of his leather notebook opening makes me huff a small laugh. I guess anything that hurts my heart is worthy.
“My grandmother used to say, find someone who loves you just a little more than you love them.” My eyes water, remembering how she said it. And how she meant it.
“And is that how you view your relationship with Dean?” he asks me.
I shake my head, nearly violently, as I wipe the tears away from the corners of my eyes. “No,” I say quickly, the word coming out scratchy. “But I’m afraid that’s how he’ll feel because I’m not good at loving anymore. That’s what really matters. It’s not about the truth. It’s all about what people think.”
“Why do you say that?” he asks me.
“Because it’s so obvious he’d do anything for me. And I’m scared he doesn’t think I’d do the same for him.” I would. I’d kill for him, die for him. Dean is my everything.
“No, why do you say you aren’t good at loving anymore?” Dr. Robinson says. He adds before I can answer, “Dean knows you love him. It’s something that’s clear to him. And to me,.”
It soothes me like a balm on my aching chest, calming the anxiety and nerves that keep me up at night. “Why do you think you’re not good at loving?”
“I haven’t done it before. Not like this. And I’m scared,” I say, the confession coming out in a single breath.
“Scared of what?” he asks me.
“That one day he’ll leave me, and I won’t survive it.” I sniff, reaching for the tissues on the coffee table and keep talking without looking him in the eyes.
“I don’t know how he can forgive me so easily. He says it’s love, but I still don’t quite feel like I deserve it.”
“Because you were protecting yourself.”
“If I had trusted him sooner,” I start to say the same thing I’ve been saying for weeks. I stop myself and pick under my nails, staring blindly ahead. “I can’t change the past.”
“And your past is where it belongs, behind you. What you have now is someone who loves you and who you love in return. Someone who wants to grow with you. Someone who knows the shadow side of yourself and you know his. There isn’t much that could be more ideal than that. To love and be loved for every part of you.”
“I feel like I can never show Dean how much I love him.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing. I want that to be your homework.”
“What?”
“I want you to write down ways you show Dean how you love him and how he loves you.”
I nod my head easily, feeling relieved slightly. Even if I could write it all down, Dean will never know exactly what he means to me. He knows everything, my darkest secrets, and he still loves me, without judgment. He gave me a new life and it’s complete with him in it.
I don’t think it’s possible to feel more love for that man than I do.
“Do you believe in fate, Dr. Robinson?” I speak without thinking.
“Why do you ask?” he answers my question with a question of his own and a small laugh bubbles up as I trace the edge of the coffee table with my fingers. It’s hard and unforgiving as I let my thoughts surface without fear of his judgment.
“Dean was supposed to be at that party.” It takes a moment for the good doctor to realize what I’m saying and when he does, his brow raises with surprise.