“These are good,” he finally comments, gesturing at the eggs with his fork. “The eggs. They’re good.”
“Thanks.”
Silence again. He takes a bite. I take a bite. We both chew and swallow, and stare at our plates as if they hold the secrets of the universe.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asks.
“Fine.”
More silence. I want to scream. This is ridiculous. We’re adults. We should be able to have a conversation over breakfast without it feeling like we’re both waiting for a bomb to go off.
“Look,” I start, just as he says, “So I was thinking—”
We both stop. He gestures for me to go first. I shake my head and gesture back. He opens his mouth to speak, and that’s when my phone vibrates against the table.
I snatch it so fast I almost knock my mug over, grateful for the interruption.
“Hello?”
“Fern, it’s Skylar.” Her voice sounds strained on the other end. “I need you to come in right away. One of your patients is here, and she’s not doing well.”
“Which patient?”
“Ivy. The young one. She’s really worked up about something, and she’s asking for you. Well, demanding is more accurate.”
My stomach drops. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
I end the call and push back from the table. Connor looks up with a question in his eyes, and I’m already reaching for my jacket on the hook by the door.
“I have to go. Emergency at the clinic.”
He’s on his feet before I finish the sentence. “I’ll walk you.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Fern—”
“I said it’s not necessary.” I shrug on my jacket and grab my keys from the counter. “Finish your breakfast. Use the button on the knob to lock up when you leave.”
I’m out the door before he can argue, and I spend the entire walk to the medical center trying to prepare myself for whatever I’m about to face. Ivy was struggling during our last session, but I thought we were making progress. I thought she was starting to trust me.
I hear her before I see her. Her voice echoes down the hallway as I push through the clinic’s front doors, high and sharp with anger.
“I want to talk to her right now. Where is she?”
Skylar stands behind the reception desk with her hands raised in a calming gesture. “She’s on her way, Ivy. Just take a breath and—”
“Don’t tell me to take a breath.” Ivy spins toward me as I round the corner, and the fury in her face makes me stop in my tracks. “You. How could you do this to me?”
“Ivy, let’s go to my office and talk about this privately.”
“I don’t want to go to your office.” She stalks toward me, and I hold my ground even though every instinct tells me to back away. “I want you to explain why you reported me to Nic. I thought our sessions were supposed to be confidential.”
“I didn’t report you to anyone.”
“Bullshit. He called me in for a meeting yesterday and asked me all kinds of questions about how I was adjusting to pack life. About whether I had any concerns or complaints.” Her eyes glitter with unshed tears. “The only person I’ve talked to about any of that is you.”
“Ivy, I promise you, I never spoke to anyone about what we discussed. I did consider it, but in the end, I chose not to.”
