Therapy (20 page)

I draw in a deep breath and gently pinch the ridge of my nose. This isn’t going to be easy for me at all. Talking in front of strangers isn’t appealing to me in the least. I fidget with my water bottle and peel the plastic wrapper off in strips.

Mercedes leans in and whispers, “Don’t stress. You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to. It’s one hundred percent up to you when you decide to share or not.” I relax into my chair, thinking her words are the sweetest ones I’ve heard all day.

Thank God!

“Chris, if you could remove your earphones, I’d appreciate it,” Ms. Robin says with a winning smile. Chris quickly pulls them out and stuffs them in her bag along with her e-reader.

“Sorry, Ms. Robin.”

“Okay, who can tell me what impulsivity means to them?” Ms. Robin asks and her eyes dart around the room expectantly. I do my best not to make eye contact with her. I do not want to get pinned down for an answer.

Mercedes shifts beside me and calls out, “I’ll go, Ms. Robin.” I slink down into my chair a little more now that all eyes are facing my general direction.

“Okay. Thanks, Mercedes. Go ahead, dear.”

“To me, impulsivity is like a magnetic force pulling you in a direction that you wouldn’t naturally go in. You know, like for me, I can see the tub of ice cream in my freezer and know that I shouldn’t want to grab it and eat the entire thing because I’m having a bad day, or because Leila has pissed me off, but some force pushes me to do it anyway. Then afterward, I freak out and run to the bathroom, shoving my finger down my throat to get it all out. I guess it just feels involuntary.”

“Great, thank you so much, Mercedes. Anyone else want to share? How about you, Kingsley? Would you like to share this week?” My eyes reluctantly dart in his direction and I curse them for being traitors.

“Nope,” he says, expressionless until he cocks his head to the side and looks at me. The disgust is back and I’m starting to get a complex. Do I look like ass today or something? Do I have a huge zit on my face that I’m unaware of? What? I have no idea why this asshole keeps looking at me like this.

“All right then, Kingsley. Just know you’re safe talking here any time.” He nods and goes back to brooding.

Surprisingly, the hour flies by and Ms. Robin is already wrapping things up. “Okay, I’d like to thank all of you for participating in our discussions today. Your homework is to jot down times when you feel impulsive over the next week. Write down why you’re feeling it, and then attempt to use some of the distress tolerance skills we learned here today. Remember the distracting method, self-soothing, improving the moment, and thinking of pros and cons about the choice you’re facing. Write down whether you were successful or not using these methods. We’ll discuss the possible whys in one of our groups next week.” I pull out my cell phone, open up my notepad app, and type in the homework assignment. If I’m going to have to write down every time I feel impulsive, I’m going to need a big notebook.

“See, not so bad, huh?” Mercedes asks.

I nod, “No, not so bad, I guess.”

“Okay, so I’ll see you next group, then?”

“Yep, I’ll be here with bells on,” I quip sarcastically. She laughs and shoves a torn piece of paper at me.

“Here’s my number. Call anytime. We all need support systems; sometimes a friend is all you need to get through a rough patch.” She smiles.

A friend.

The only friend I’ve ever had was Jace and that turned into a total disaster. I like Mercedes, but having a friend isn’t familiar ground for me.

“Sure,” I nod. “And thanks, Mercedes. Thanks for being so cool.” She smiles and meanders out of the room with a bounce in her step. I reach down and grab my purse. In my peripheral vision, I see someone walk through the door and look up instinctively.

Jace.

Of course it’s Jace. In black slacks and a baby blue button down that accents his ice-blue eyes perfectly. My throat tightens as if someone’s strangling me and my jaws clench. His eyes are fixed on me and I fumble with my empty water bottle and all of the label scraps, inwardly cursing myself for making a mess that I now have to take the time to clean up instead of being able to run out of here. Grabbing a handful of the small scraps and the bottle, I stand up and our eyes meet once again.

God, he is still so gorgeous.

He shoves his hands into his pockets as he approaches me. Then, just before he says anything, Kingsley passes by us with a backward glance in my direction; I blink and chew at my bottom lip, feeling like I’m suddenly trapped in a pressure cooker full of hot guys and angst. The small exchange isn’t lost on Jace. He raises a brow and turns in Kingsley’s direction.

“You know him?” he prods.

Is that jealousy I see on his face?

He has a damn fiancé and he’s asking me questions like this. What a prick! A sexy prick, but a prick, nonetheless. He infuriates me with his self-righteous posture and tone; with that little turned-up side grin and that motherlovin’ toothpick—it’s come back to haunt me. Good. God.

“Whether I know him or not isn’t really any of your business, now is it?” Sarcasm rolls off my tongue, but he just smiles back at me.

“No, I suppose it isn’t,” he reaches up, scratching his head. He seems to be at a loss for words, but he stands here blocking my path anyway.

“What do you want, Jace? Shouldn’t you be off picking out napkin patterns or something with the good doctor?”

Bitch.

I’m such a bitch. He winces at my words and sighs.

“Why are you back here? I told you that you have to find a new clinic. I know you went and saw Victoria too. You’ve caused quite a stir, Jessica.”

Me? I’ve caused quite a stir? Is he serious?
He’s the one who stole my damn file!

I lean in closer, so that my voice can’t be heard by anyone else, and I look him dead in the eye. The aroma of his cologne captures my attention, causing me to pause momentarily before speaking.

“Listen to me,” I say, using my lowest, most dangerous voice. “You took my file from her office. You are the one who caused a stir, not me. I could get you both in some serious trouble if I wanted to, but I’m not out to hurt you, Jace.” I take a big breath and straighten up, letting my cheeks pucker out as I exhale. “Just leave me alone. Marry your doctor and leave me the hell alone. I can’t just drop out of these group sessions or I’ll be in trouble with the judge. I’ll request a new clinic today. Just leave me be, okay?” Each word slices through my heart and the pain of them burns my throat.

“You don’t mean that and you know it,” he whispers fiercely, and his intensity is almost too much to take. “I don’t buy your show, Jess. I. See. You. I always have and I always will. No matter how hard you try to hide inside yourself, I’ll always see you. Those walls may be up, but I see right through them,” he finishes. Then he turns and walks away.

My chest rises and falls quickly as I try to regulate my breathing. I sling my purse strap over my shoulder and push through the exit door breathlessly. I have to stop letting Jace Collins affect me so powerfully. He’s like a drug; every time I’m around him I go into some involuntary inebriated state. It’s pathetic.

I get to the parking lot and see a big Harley Davidson sitting off to the side with none other than Kingsley straddled upon it.

Great.

Was he waiting for me to come out? Was he about to abduct me and commence cutting me up into small pieces somewhere? What the hell? I turn on my heel in the opposite direction toward my bus stop. Then, suddenly, I hear footsteps crunching the gravel of the parking lot behind me. I pick up my pace as my heart hammers in my chest. Right then, I stop abruptly in my tracks. I will not let him scare me. Thoughts of being terrified in high school flood my mind and anger roars through my veins. I turn around and face him.

“What’s your deal? Why are you following me and what the hell did I ever do to you? Why did you spend the last hour looking at me like I was dirt on the bottom of your boot?” I shout in a rush, practically out of breath by the time I get it all out. He scowls and pulls off his beanie. He rakes his hand through his disheveled hair as his eyes shoot back and forth between the ground and me.

“I’m sorry.” He has the most sexual, raspy voice I’ve ever heard from a guy’s mouth. It’s like sweaty, hot sex on gravel.

“Oookay. Thanks for the apology, and forgive me for saying this, but you creeped me out in there and you’re creeping me out now,” I say as I defensively cross my arms over my chest.

“You just remind me of someone, that’s all. It sort of threw me for a loop, you know? I didn’t mean to freak you out,” he says roughly. Although his voice is kind of gruff, his stature is apologetic, and his eyes, though they won’t meet mine, reflect the truth of his words. “It’s just that...,” he starts, and I admit it; I’m intrigued by him, curious to know what he has to say. “You know what? Never mind. I just wanted to apologize, that’s all.” He looks back at me and I see something other than contempt in his eyes. I see sadness; a raw pain that’s all too familiar to me.

“It’s okay. Already forgotten,” I say. What I don’t say is that even though I have no idea what it is that’s torturing him, I know. I understand. I relate.

He just nods and pulls the beanie back onto his head. I watch him walk back to his bike, put a helmet on, straddle the big motorcycle, then look in my direction once more before he cranks it and drives away. I have a feeling there’s a lot more to that guy than meets the eye.

Who is Kingsley Arrington?

And who do I remind him of?

“The way to love anything is

to realize it may be lost.”

—Gilbert Chesterton

I SIT AT my desk, aimlessly flipping through papers. I’m lost in thought, thinking about Jess. I know that any minute Victoria will walk through my door with more questions than I care to give her answers to.

I’ve never told her about Jess in detail. I’ve always kept the specifics locked away in a vault within me. Victoria knows I went through a tough breakup, but whenever she pressed me for more information, I always changed the subject.

Once, years ago, when she’d stayed over at my place, she had grabbed a T-shirt from my dresser drawer to throw on. It happened to be the blue
Music Makes Me Horny
T-shirt Jess had given me.

“You can’t wear that,” I’d told her.

She’d looked down at it and laughed. “Umm, why not? It’s funny, and now that I know this bit of valuable information about you, I’ll be sure to play music every time you’re around.”

“Take the shirt off, Vic,” I’d said with clipped words, brokering no argument.

“Fine, geez. It’s childish anyway,” she’d said, obviously irritated, as she tugged it over her head.

She’d asked me later what the big deal was and I told her I didn’t want to talk about it. I still don’t want to talk about it, but it’s inevitable now.

So I just sit here and wait.

The doorknob begins to turn and I brace myself. Victoria steps into my office and I can see the anger plainly on her face.

“We need to talk. I’ve canceled all of my appointments for the day.” She sits down in the chair across from my desk and crosses her legs. “Who is Jessica Alexander? And how does she know we’re getting married in four weeks?” I lean back in my chair, place both hands behind my head, and look toward the ceiling.

“Well, spit it out, J,” she snaps. “Please explain to me why my patient walked into my office this morning holding her file—a file she says I should ask you about. She also claims you were at her apartment last night. Is that why you didn’t come over? Did you lie to me about where you were when I called you?” her voice is rising, and though Victoria doesn’t get hysterical—ever—she looks and sounds as close to it as I’ve ever seen her. “Please tell me that some mentally disturbed whore isn’t the girl from your past that had you twisted up for so long.” Her tone is condescending, patronizing.

I drop my hands to my desk and lean forward, pissed. I’ve been wrong about a lot of things in the last couple days—taking the file, lying to Victoria, and kissing Jess last night even though I’m engaged—but that’s all on me. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit here and let her talk about Jessica that way. As I look at her sitting across from me right now, I can’t help but see Elizabeth in her posture, hear Elizabeth in her judgmental words, which are soaked with superiority. How she can say something like that and be in this profession blows my mind. I know this is a special case, but I’ve never heard her say anything about a patient with such ugliness in her voice before.

“Don’t, Vic,” I warn.

“Don’t what? Don’t ask my fiancé where he was last night? Don’t ask why some mentally unstable borderline slut claims you don’t want to marry me? Don’t what, Jace?” she says, raising her voice again.

“She said that?” I ask, focusing in on what Jess must have told her. I’m right. Jess does care. Vic glares at me and I can see she’s seething. I sigh and decide it’s time to put it all on the table and let the cards fall where they may. I’m a terrible liar anyway and, regardless of everything, she deserves the truth.

“Yes, she’s the girl. But, despite what your initial opinion is from the couple of hours you’ve spent with her, she’s not what you think she is,” I say, cutting her off before she can start to argue. “And you should be ashamed of yourself for saying such things about one of your patients. You’re acting like you’re better than her, stronger than her, but Vic, strong people don’t push other people down. They help them up,” I scold, still pissed off that she just verbally bashed Jess.

She huffs and situates herself back in her chair. “Well, thank you for your clinical opinion,
Dr.
Collins. I’ll be sure to take that into consideration. Oh, that’s right, you’re not a doctor,” she says condescendingly. “You’re telling me I should be ashamed, but you were at another woman’s apartment last night! I do believe you’re deserving of a healthy dose of shame as well. Or are you going to tell me you weren’t, in fact, at her apartment?”

“No, I’m not telling you that I wasn’t there because the truth is, I was.” I admit. I feel terrible for what I’m about to tell her, but I have to be honest with her. “When you asked me to grab your keys, I saw her name on a folder and I took it. I made up an excuse not to stay over at your place and I went to see her instead. I was wrong to have taken the folder, and I was equally wrong for lying to you, but I had no choice in this. I
had
to go see her. You just don’t understand, Vic, and you probably never will.”

“Did you sleep with her? Did you cheat on me?” she says as she narrows her eyes and sits up a little straighter.

“No, and yes.” Her eyes flare as she stares at me openmouthed and I quickly go on. “No, I didn’t sleep with her, but I almost did. I would’ve if she hadn’t stopped me.” Maybe I didn’t need to add that last bit, I can see it’s upsetting her, but I won’t deny my feelings for Jess now that she’s back in my life.

She stands up abruptly, glaring at me with cold, hard eyes. “I can’t sit here and listen to this any longer. For one thing, I’m not losing my license or business because you took that file and lost your mind. You need to get your shit together now, Jace Collins. You’re a grown man. This is not high school anymore and she’s not your sweetheart.”

She starts for the door and then turns around, shooting tiny daggers at me with her eyes.

“She left you, moved on, and walked away, so just get over it. Get over her. I haven’t spent countless hours on wedding preparations and sent out hundreds of invitations just so some petulant, mentally ill girl from your past can screw it all up. It’s not like you’re still in love with her after six years. You’re in love with me! You’re with me, so whatever this is, you need to rectify it now. My future isn’t going to be ruined over some old high school crush of yours.”

I look at her angrily and growl, “Don’t talk about her like that.”

“Why, J? Is it hard to hear the truth? She left you. The girl is mentally ill. She’s also quite the bitch. I have no idea what you ever saw in her. She’s not even that pretty. Figure this out, Jace, and screw your head back on straight, because this wedding is happening,” she says. Then she storms out my door.

I lock up the office and head to my car. Victoria didn’t come back to see me for the rest of the day. I have three missed calls from Mom, but I’m not calling her back. She’s very close with Victoria, so I’m sure they’ve spoken, but I know how she is and I’m just not ready for the third degree right now. She never liked Jess, and I’m certain she’ll be none too pleased with this recent turn of events.

I sit in my car, pondering what to do about everything. The worst part is that I don’t feel guilty for what I told Victoria. I feel guilty for not feeling guilty, but that’s it. Seeing Jess last night flipped a long-buried switch within me and I’m not sure I can flip it back off again. I’m not sure I
want
to flip it back off again.

I pull out my cell phone and dial her number. My heart races a little faster with each ring and I almost decide to hang up.

She answers.

“Why are you calling me, Jace?”

I sigh into the phone. “Can I see you?” I ask. I don’t know what I’m hoping for, or what I even want. I just know I need to see her again.

“Why? We have nothing else to talk about. You’re—”

I cut her off, not wanting to hear it another time. “Drop the I’m getting married thing. Yes, I’m engaged, but that happened way before I found you again, and I’m not married yet. So, can I see you or not?”

“Did you talk to the good doctor? Is she okay with you seeing me?” she taunts.

“Stop being such a child, Jess,” I demand. She’s acting so catty and I don’t like it. This is not the Jess I knew.

“Wow, now that’s a great way to convince me to see you,” she answers. I want to tell her that she owes me, that she has to see me to make up for all those years I suffered without her, but I don’t. I miss her too much to risk her hanging up on me.

“Jess, please just stop being so bitchy and guarded and talk to me. It’s me. You don’t have to put on this front for me. Are you at your place?

“Jace, this is just—”

“Yes or no, Jess?”

“Yes, I’m at home, but—”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

I stand outside her door holding two Sonic RT 44 Vanilla Cokes. She used to love Vanilla Coke; she drank gallons of the stuff from the Dairy Queen back home. I press the doorbell and hold my breath. A few seconds, which feel like long drawn-out minutes, go by before the door opens. Jess stands there with a low-hanging pair of gray baggy sweat pants on and a green T-shirt that says
I Think, Therefore We Have Nothing In Common
. Her long shiny black hair falls down over her shoulders.

She’s beautiful.

I laugh at her shirt. “Some things never change. Did you wear that one especially for me?” I hold out the huge RT 44 drink to her as if it’s a peace offering. She looks at the drink and back to me. A tiny smile graces her lips and I know I have her.

“Is it Vanilla Coke?” she asks.

“None other.”

“Okay, fine, you can come in, but only because you brought Vanilla Coke,” she says, opening the door for me. I walk in and smell something coming from the kitchen.

“It smells good in here. Are you cooking?” She lets out a huge giggle and says, “Absolutely not! It’s Chinese take-out. I don’t cook—ever—and trust me, you would not want to eat anything I attempted to cook. I’m awful at it.”

“I doubt that. I’m sure you can cook just fine.”

She walks into the kitchen and takes a large gulp from her drink. She reaches up into a cabinet to grab a plate and her T-shirt inches up exposing the soft skin of her stomach. I automatically feel the need to adjust myself.