She presses her glossy lips together. “Anger?” Her finger runs along the lined paper. “Talk to me about that, then.”
Seems pretty fucking obvious.
“I was on probation because I punched a guy. Do the math.” I sit back, folding my arms across my chest.
Dr. Sparks sits motionless, staring at me. I shift on the sofa, antsy.
Finally, she speaks.
“From your retelling last session, you punched a man to protect a woman, possibly preventing a sexual assault. Some might see that as a defensive move.”
“Well, yeah. It was.”
“And while I agree that there may have been other, more appropriate ways to handle the situation, I’m not sure anger was the motivation.”
I frown, narrowing my eyes at her.
“So what—you don’t think I have anger issues?”
“Do you have anger issues?”
“You’re the shrink—you tell me.” I throw my hands out wide, frustration simmering in my gut. “This whole therapy thing’s annoying as hell.”
“Therapy is annoying to you. What part?” She holds my gaze and waits for a response.
“I don’t like being analyzed. And I don’t want to sit around and talk about my feelings. I have better shit to do.”
“You’re too busy for therapy.” Dr. Sparks tips her head and I nod.
“Yeah, I am. And now I’m off probation, so I’ll be back on the ice tomorrow night.”
“And you feel good about that?”
“Yeah, great. Fantastic. It’s my job and I love it.”
“So from your perspective, things are back to normal and you’re feeling good.”
I run a hand through my hair, blow out a breath.
“You paused. Am I wrong in that assessment?”
“Yes and no.”
“Tell me more.”
“Well, things aren’t exactly back to normal.”
“How so?”
“Prince has me on a tight leash. Tori’s still supposed to be supervising me.”
“And that’s what…”
I link my fingers together, stretching my arms out in front of me. “Aggravating, I guess.”
“Aggravating?”
“Yeah. She’s aggravating.”
