Most psychiatrists charge by the hour, and once it’s up, it’s up. Doesn’t matter if you were about to have the biggest epiphany of your life, healing your inner child and all that bullshit. Once the clock strikes, you are out the door and toldto hold on to that groundbreaking pattern of thought, that may bring you peace and light for all eternity, until the next session.
Gail is not only the best therapist in the world, she’s the most astute. She did two sessions with me using the standard hour, then immediately switched to goal focused therapy. No epiphany, no leaving. I don’t even know the goal; if I did, I’d feed her some bullshit to make the session complete as fast as possible. At least, I would have in the beginning. Now, life wouldn’t be the same without the woman who helps guide me in a world I still find socially complicated and overwhelming. I can fit into ninety percent of situations given a small amount of time to study those around me, but it’s exhausting. Behind my computers, in the comfort of my own home, I am rarely tired. It’s where I thrive. But as the noose tightens around Jonathan, I am going to need to don my mask more and more, and to do that, I need support.
I meet her gaze. “I think I can trust him.”
“What has led you to that conclusion?”
“He’s a friend of a friend. We met months ago in a situation most others wouldn’t show up for. Then he showed up again, but this time, for me.”
She nods as I absorb the truth of my words. I don’t trust anyone, but I trust him. I don’t work from my gut or my heart. Both of those things can too easily be manipulated. I’m a logic and numbers girl; they don’t lie.
When did I decide to trust this man? And more importantly, why?
“Even though he snuck into your room, in the dead of night, and watched you masturbate?”
“He was checking the windows.”
“But he stayed.”
“I would have done the same.”
She quirks a brow. “Do you see yourself with him?”
“I am with him.”
“No, Ellie, with him like a couple.”
“We are in a fake relationship. I guess it’s a good way to test the water.” Wait, what? No. No testing of water. I don’t have the time or patience for romantic entanglements.
“Fake dating? Why is this sounding more and more like a romance book?”
“They fake date in books? Why?”
“Stop trying to deflect my questions.”
I snort. Like I could shake this woman loose from her line of questioning. “I would say we’re living in an uneasy truce. I am hiding from the devil, and he is providing shelter while I sort my shit out.”
Her face falls. “How much trouble have you gotten yourself into?” I grimace. She rubs a hand down her face. “Ellie, please be careful. And for fuck’s sake, if that man is offering you safety, you suck up the fake dating situation and act like your life depends on it.”
“Did I get five gold stars on my homework?”
“Six.”
I frown. “But the maximum is five.”
She shakes her head and smiles. “Can we take a moment to acknowledge the fact you have not once looked over your shoulder at the cute fluff ball who would normally be giving you a panic attack?”
“Charlie? He lost his scary street cred when he tried to play hide and seek with my panties. Plus, he smiles.”
“He what?”
“Smiles.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“It is. Watch.” I turn to Charlie who raises his head and wags his tail faster. “Smile, Charlie.” He tilts his head and blinks atme. I show him my teeth and push my top lip up at the corners with my fingers. “Smile,” I say, even though it’s muffled.
Gail’s howl of laughter comes from the laptop, and I spin to face her, my brows drawing together. “What’s so funny?”
