“Have you ever heard of knocking?” I snapped, pushing myself to sit up to close my notebook, glaring at my therapist for startling me.
“I have, and I did, knocked twice, actually. You didn’t hear me.” I took half the intensity out of my glare, taking in how he was dressed casually today in jeans with a fitted black V-neck shirt that clung tightly to his broad shoulders, and scolded myself for howI had addressed him. It was my fault he was here after all. “What were you writing about that had you so lost in your head that you didn’t hear me?”
“Why do you need to know?”
“I’m your therapist, getting inside your head would be in my job description. Since you called me in on my day off with a crisis, I’m just curious if that was what had your attention rather than your surroundings.”
“If you must know, I was rewriting what happened to me that landed me in this place.”
“Rewriting, how? What events did you change?”
“I’m not crazy, I know what really happened, so don’t try to plant it in my head that I’m writing something different because I can’t stick with my original story,” I clutched my notebook tightly to my chest to protect my words.
“I’ve already told you that I believe you, so why would I go back on that? I may be a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them,” he firmly stated, keeping his arms crossed against his chest. “Now, would you like to finish talking here or do you want to go to my office?”
“Your office, I prefer the privacy, and I think I annoyed Shemar, so he’d probably enjoy a break from having to check on me every fifteen minutes.”
“Shemar will be fine, once he has a plan for the day, he likes sticking to it, deviating from it isn’t in his comfort zone,” Daxtonpushed off the dresser gently and started walking towards the door, leaving me no choice but to get up and follow behind him after I hastily shoved my notebook in the depths of my gym bag.
He set a brisk pace as he led us to his office on the fourth floor, his steps quieter than the other day when he was wearing his boots. Black athletic shoes adorned his feet today.
“Did I interrupt your day?” I asked, guilt starting to set in at the thought of putting him in a position where he had to change any of his plans. When I had coerced Shemar into calling him, I hadn’t thought about the possibility that I would be interrupting his day off. My desperation had been too dire in the moment.
“Nothing that couldn’t be easily changed. My first and foremost priority is the well-being of my patients.”
“Kendi just thought it would be a good idea to speak with you, I didn’t even consider if it was your day off, and I’m so sorry. Sometimes I’m too much of an act first, think about it later type of person, which really contradicts the part that over thinks the simplest interactions,” I rambled, my confidence from approaching Shemar with my request starting to dwindle the more I dwelled on it.
He stopped on the stairs, turning to face me, his dark eyes fixed on my own as he loomed over me with the increased height of the steps, “Don’t ever think you are a bother to me, whether I’m here or at home, I am exactly where I need to be right now.” Daxton wasn’t harsh with his words, but his tone left no roomfor argument, firmly trying to squash whatever doubt I had in my mind that it had been the wrong thing to do. “Never hesitate to reach out to me, do you understand?”
The way he spoke to me made me want to believe every word he said. His voice was just as intense as his physical presence was. Taking control and dominating me in a way I had never felt before. He didn’t need to manipulate me with pretty words when his actions mirrored his words.
“I understand,” I said almost breathlessly. He towered above me when we were on equal ground; being a step above me made me feel small in comparison. I didn’t bend backwards to avoid his gaze; I met it with steel in my spine. I was so used to facing consequences when I asked for help or when I reached out; it was a drastic difference having someone insist that I wasn’t a bother to them.
“Good,” He said simply before turning around and continuing up the stairs. A warmth flooded through my body at his intensity, one that I couldn’t explain, and that feeling settled right in my lower abdomen.
I took the same spot on the couch when I entered his office, letting him turn on the lights and get settled while I pulled the pillow with the fringe onto my lap. Daxton didn’t grab his notebook from his desk as he took his seat, crossing one leg over the other like he had all the time in the world, and this was nothing more than a casual conversation.
“So what happened this morning?”
“Craig called this morning. I thought you had him banned from the hospital?”
“I did have him banned, security knows not to let him in as a visitor, unfortunately, that doesn’t stop phone calls from being made. I’m assuming the police never filed a protective order for you since they didn’t believe your story?”
“No, the doctors didn’t believe me, so I never got the chance to speak with the police. I was unconscious when I was admitted.”
“What did he say when he called?”
Picking at the fringe on the pillow, I focused my eyes on a spot to the left of his head, ashamed of the fear I felt still lingering from the conversation with Craig.
“He wanted to discuss our future, and that if I wasn’t open to discussing it and fixing things with him, he was going to finish what he started.”
“So he admitted to the assault?” There was an edge to Daxton's voice now that hadn’t been there before.
“He didn’t say those exact words, but yes, he said he would finish what he started, so I took it as an admission. Are the phone calls here recorded?”
Daxton shook his head, “No, privacy laws prevent it since patients and staff might discuss medical information over the phones here. The only thing there will be is a record of whatever number he made the call from.”
“I’m scared,” I admitted. “If the doctors didn’t believe me, what chance do I have that the police will take me seriously when I’m released? What if he follows through with his threat?”
