He took the seat across from me, setting down his coffee.“Good, I was worried I’d have to eat in my office again.Don’t tell anyone, but the cafeteria food’s better company than most of my coworkers.”
“That’s a low bar,” I said, the corners of my mouth twitching.
He chuckled softly.“You’d be surprised.You’d think mental health professionals would know how to manage stress, but you give one a broken printer and it’s chaos.”
That earned him a real smile from me.It was small, but at least it finally felt genuine.
“There it is,” he said, pointing at me.“That’s what I was aiming for.I swear, my son’s friends all walk around like the world’s about to end half the time.”
I raised an eyebrow.“Maybe it is.”
George pretended to think about it.“If it is, I hope it waits until after dinner.I’ve already thawed chicken.”
The loud laugh that escaped me surprised even myself.
After a moment, his teasing stopped, replaced by that calm, doctorly kind of patience.“You visiting your mom today?”he asked gently.
“Yeah,” I said.“She’s different.”
He waited, the silence encouraging rather than pressing.
“She’s aware now.Said she’s finally able to grasp what she did.”
“That’s good,” he said softly, nodding.“Awareness doesn’t fix things, but it’s the first step toward trying.I imagine that’s hard for you, though.”
I swallowed.“I don’t know what to do with it.She’s getting better, and that’s supposed to be good, but...”
“But it doesn’t erase what she did,” he finished for me.
I nodded, relieved not to have to say it.
He took a slow sip of coffee, thinking.“You don’t have to forgive her to move forward,” he said after a moment.“Forgiveness and healing aren’t the same thing.Sometimes, healing is just...choosing not to let the past dictate every tomorrow.”
His words settled deep inside me, hitting every thought I had and giving them comfort.He was right.I couldn’t forgive.She could promise me the world and the moon and the stars and the universe, and I still wouldn’t be able to forgive her.
And Lindie understood that as well, which is why she didn’t ask for it.
I glanced out the window again.“You always know what to say, don’t you?”
He smiled, a little wistful.“It’s my job to sound wise.My son, however, thinks it’s just because I’m old.”
I laughed, and for a moment, the ache in my chest loosened.
George glanced at his watch, then stood, gathering his files.“I should get back to the land of outpatients and bad coffee.You take care of yourself, Cadence.And eat something that isn’t water and chips.”
“I’ll try,” I said, giving him a small smile.
He gave me a warm smile of his own.“Good girl.”Then he paused, adding with a half-smile.“And tell Paxon I’m still waiting for him to call me about that essay.He’s not getting out of it just because I’m his dad.Maybe coming from you, it’ll light a fire under his ass.”
“I’ll let him know,” I said, amused.
“Perfect.”He was already walking away.“If he complains, tell him I can be much scarier than I have been.I’ll give that boy damn nightmares if I have to.”
I watched him go, his easy stride disappearing through the cafeteria doors.Outside, the rain kept falling, steady and unhurried.I stayed where I was, not ready to go out into the cold rain without an umbrella.
