Why is it so dark?
“I did it.”
“Wait. No, Connor, go back to sleep. It’s Ellie.”
Oh right. It’s the middle of the night.
She shuffles around, then soft lighting illuminates the screen as she moves into her kitchen. She props me up on the countertop and yawns as she squints at me.
“Where are you?”
“A rental.”
“Why? Are you out of town?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do that needs a phone call at four-thirty in the morning?”
“You gave me homework. I’m reporting in.”
She leans forward on her elbows, her pretty blonde curls a crazy mess as they settle around her face. “Which part exactly?”
“Intimacy and letting someone in my space.”
“You went on a date and brought someone home?”
“No, I met a guy in a bar and brought him back to the Airbnb I rented for the night.”
“And did what?”
“Had sex. Intimacy.”
She runs a hand down her face and sighs. “I’m going to need caffeine for this.”
Oh, I pissed her off. She only says that when she is mad and needs a minute to compose herself. She makes a show out of pulling a very large mug out of the cupboard and setting her preferred options on the coffee maker.
She’s the one and only therapist that has taken the time to understand me, to not label me as difficult, combative, or obtuse. Two years, four months, and six days she’s been seeing me, and she’s the only person I’ve opened up to about my childhood. Uncle Steven knows scattered details. Straight after my escape, we drove to the police station and explained what occurred that night. They were too slow, or maybe on Jonathan’s payroll, and by the time they’d assembled a task force to raid the compound, the community was gone, my mother’s lifeless body nowhere to be found.
“That’s not what I meant when I said let someone in, Ellie,” Gail says as she takes a seat on her stool at the breakfast bar. “Let’s start with why you got a rental and avoided inviting them back to your home.”
“You know why.”
“I want you to speak the words. I can’t work with what’s in your head unless you make it real. Make it concrete.”
My gaze flicks to the ceiling. Wow, they keep this place super clean. I’ll have to make sure to rate it highly. “I have a flight to catch.”
“What time?”
“Ten-thirteen.”
“You have time. Now, why the rental?”
I suck in a long breath, waiting a beat before releasing it. “Because I don’t want anyone in my personal space. I don’t like the thought of them touching my things or messing up my routine.”
“How would—what’s his name?” I grimace, and her eyes widen. “Ellie!”
“Mr. D,” I supply. It sounds dumb out loud. Damn therapist.
