“I look like shit,” she groans.
"You look amazing," I say, pulling the pillow from her face, her hair in disarray, her face flushed as she bites her bottom lip nervously. She has never looked as beautiful.
“Coffee?”
“You have a way with women, don’t you?”
“I try,” I smirk, leaning down and kissing her forehead before I hand her the coffee.
* * *
"Kace, good to see you again."Dr. Willis smiles at me cheerfully as he opens the door. "I must say, I was surprised to hear from you."
“Yeah, I should apologize for that. I’m not really used to this kind of thing.” I shrug.
"None of us are. It takes a lot to open up to a practical stranger about the things that matter most to us," he assures me as he leads me into his office.
It's been three weeks since the last time I saw him. He was away, so I had to wait a couple of days to see him.
“Please, grab a seat. Anything to drink?”
“Just some water. Thanks.” I shift in my seat.
He hands me a glass and sits down opposite me. “So how have you been?”
I think about this. How do I feel? "Oddly better than," I respond, surprising us both.
“I’m glad to hear that, can you pinpoint a reason for that? A change in routine perhaps?” He notes something down whch surprisingly doesn’t annoy me.
“You could say that.” I offered a small smile.
“I am so glad you decided to give this another try.”
“I am too. But if I’m honest, you could say it has something to do with a woman I met.”
His interest piques. “Tell me more.”
Here I am, talking to a stranger, a professional. I take in a deep breath.
"She's different. She doesn't demand shit I can't deliver. I mean, it's early days and all, but I just have a feeling she's . . . I don't know . . ." I feel frustrated. What the hell am I trying to say? That she's the one? I know how messed up that sounds.
“She just gets me, you know? She getsme. Kace. I don’t have to lie to her about a job I don’t have, and most of all, I don’t want to. I let her in. What the hell is even wrong with me, Doctor Willis?”
"Just Bradley will do," he says kindly. "And there is nothing wrong with you, for one, not for feeling the way you do."
"I just feel so anxious. I have these episodes where I feel like I can't breathe, like I'm too overwhelmed to do anything but stay in my apartment. What if she gets tired of me? What if she needs me, and I can't be what she needs?"
He nods and makes a note in his book. "You completed the assessment I sent you a few days ago, and I must say, I was glad you returned it. I had a bit of time to go through it."
I look at him in anticipation. Maybe I’ll finally have the answers I’ve been looking for, for years.
“Kace, I was sorry to hear about your mother; and I can understand why you initially weren’t comfortable talking about it.”
I nod. When I read the questionnaire, I initially felt like it would strip me bare, but the more I answered, the better it felt to say it, after all this time. I guess talking to Kenzie about it really did help.
"Was there anything that sticks out for you about your mother?"
I sigh. "My mother was sad for a long time, withdrawn almost. She'd been diagnosed with depression and anxiety. I didn't know what caused it, but one day, she was my mother, and the next, she wasn't. It's like the darkness consumed her."
