“You’re kinda sneaky, ya know that?”
“I have my moments. But it’s for the greater good, I promise.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Promise.”
“Right, so, uh, you’ll tell Clay I said hi? And that he’d better get his shit together?”
“I will.”
“Thanks.”
His smile was warm, but it looked fragile. I didn’t think it was necessary to call him out on it. We both had plenty to think about, so we lapsed into silence. I hoped he would spend the next few weeks thinking of ways to help himself. Then my thoughts drifted to the job offer and how to spend the time I was going to have with Clay.
“Just sit where you want,”the woman who’d led me through the building said, gesturing at the chairs.
I didn’t know what I’d been expecting. Something more sterile, more nut house. I definitely didn’t expect the visiting room to be comfortable. There was a couch and a round table in the center with plush chairs, but not much else. The chairs looked comfortable but…odd. Then I realized they were assembled in one piece, probably so they couldn’t be broken up.
“Thanks,” I said with a smile, taking a seat. I didn’t feel like sitting, but didn’t want to risk being ‘difficult,’ not when they were careful about who visited Clay. “And thanks for letting me visit.”
“Well, I don’t really make that decision,” she said, but smiled anyway. “Clay has talked about you often enough to anyone who’ll listen. I’d have been surprised if you weren’t allowed to visit.”
“After making sure during the phone interview that I wasn’t going to be a bad visitor,” I pointed out.
“Well, it happens. Those closest to our patients are often a trigger,” she said apologetically.
It seemed Clay hadn’t told them I had been the catalyst for his breakdowns. Or maybe he had, and they’d come to a different conclusion. I was good with people, but there was a big difference between being a skilled people reader and a trained psychologist.
“Now, I have to remind you that we are obligated to keep an eye on things,” she said, pointing at a camera in the corner, tiny but obvious. “But don’t worry about privacy, at least with conversation. There’s no audio, and no one is a lip reader.”
I smirked. “That you know of.”
“That I know of,” she conceded. “We’ve checked you for anything dangerous, and if there’s any reason to think you or Clay is in danger, there’s a button on the side of the table which will bring help.”
“A lovely thought,” I said. “Am I allowed to hug him?”
“Yes,” she said immediately. “We take safety seriously, but Clay hasn’t been classified as high risk. At least, not to others.”
“Oh, God, has he tried hurting himself again?” I asked, my heart thumping at the thought.
“I can’t tell you what’s happened during his time here due to confidentiality, but Clay can tell you if he chooses to,” she said, glancing up when the door opened. “Speak of the devil.”
Anxiety and relief washed through me in a jumble of emotions as Clay shuffled into the room, his eyes searching before landing on me. The nervousness disappeared as soon ashe saw me, and he smiled. “Wow, I must be doing well with the treatment if they brought me a high-class escort.”
“Ass,” I muttered as I got up, noticing the woman smiling as she left. I reached for Clay, hugging him close. He smelled clean, and I pulled back to look at him, running a hand down the back of his head a few times. “Look at you.”
“I look like shit, I know,” he muttered, leaning into my touch and closing his eyes.
In truth, he looked a bit rough. His eyes were slightly sunken, and he was paler than before. But he was very much Clay, even down to his tasteless joke upon seeing me. He was obviously worn down and exhausted, but he wasn’t lost, which was what I’d feared most.
“You look as though you’re fighting like hell,” I told him softly, curling my fingers in his hair so my fingernails gently scraped his scalp. “And I’m proud of you for that.”
“God, don’t,” he whispered desperately. “I feel like I’ve been doing nothing but crying lately, and you’re going to start me off again.”
“I didn’t know if anyone had said it to you, so I figured I would,” I told him with a smile.
“You know what they’ve been telling me? That I’m safe. I keep hearing that,” he muttered, glancing at the camera.
