Good question. "I trust them. It's my own insecurities… and you just said they'll help me with those."
"I did. So what are you going to do?" he asks, tapping his pen on his thigh.
"I'll talk to them tonight. Oh, it's Friday… Cam…" Screw that. "He can wait. I doubt he'd even notice I wasn't there."
"Olivia, I know yours and Cameron's relationship is new, but I see it weighing on you and you're beginning to resent him."
"What?" I ask, stunned.
"Think of what you just said to me. 'He can wait. I doubt he'd even notice I wasn't there'."
"Oh," I whisper.
"Resentment and anger aren't good tools for any relationship, but more importantly a new one."
"What should I do?" I ask quietly. "WhatcanI do? I don't see things getting better anytime soon. Do I break up with him? I can't even believe I'm saying that," I admit, wiping a tear from my cheek.
"Don't think of it as breaking up so much as taking a break to see how things go. If you still feel the same about him when things with football slow down again, then you can try to start again."
He says it so reasonably, so logically. It hurts to think about it.
"I don't know. I need to think about that."
He nods. "You've told me in the past that when you had issues you'd go to your friends, the Fab Five, for advice. What do you think they'd say about all of this?"
"Wow. I don't know—well, I do. You just caught me off guard." I miss them so much right now. They'd know what to do and they wouldn't be shy about telling me either—especially Simon. Tears begin to fall and I reach for the tissue box.
"I think Simon and Danny would tell me to dump Cam—then Phil would agree and so would Cassidy," I admit.
"But?" he asks.
"But it's not that easy. I don't know if I can do it. I love him. How can I be without him?" I ask.
"Right now you're not really with him, though, are you?"
Everything's a question. I want to stomp my foot and demand he tell me what he's getting at without making me say it for him.
"Yes… and no. More no than yes."
He nods and just watches me.
"I know what I have to do but I'm not ready to do it."
"Only you can decide what you want to do. You've made so much progress since you started coming here all those months ago. I don't want to see it undone for, yet, another reason," he advises.
I nod. "Okay."
"Now let's talk about Alison."
We spent the last twenty minutestalking about psycho bitch and all the shitty things she's done to me since she arrived. Needless to say, Dr. Wheeler advised me to get a restraining order and talk to the police. Thing is, she really hasn't done anythingbad. It's just been petty, stupid stuff—bullying, and while that's a crime, I have no real proof. I decided from now on I'd keep my phone handy and use my recording app whenever psycho gets near. I need proof—evidence—if anyone's going to believe me—including Cam.
I walk out the door to see Bash leaning against his car.Shit.
"What are you doing here?" I ask lightly.
"Waiting for you." I make my way down the walk to where he's standing. "Come here often, do you?"
I sigh. "Yeah. Two times a week since I got here." It was three when I first arrived in New York, but as I've been feeling more stable and like myself, the doc and I agreed to cut back to twice a week.
