“Things have changed. You have never been emotionally responsible for another person.”
“I’m still not.”
“You are. Don’t downplay your relationship with Aspen, and don’t forget she is my patient as well. I need to consider her well-being too, and I will do so more than yours.”
“Harsh, but okay. I’m pretty sure that’s against some kind of doctor code, not to mention being extremely immoral.” I can hardly get the words out and keep a straight face. As if I care about morals.
“Lucas, everything I’m doing within these walls is against the law and extremely unethical.”
“Fair point, but you have known me for a very long time.”
“Which is exactly why Aspen is my priority. I barely like you.”
“Pffff. Lies. You love me. Why else would you have moved to Alaska with me?”
“I moved because you basically forced me to.”
“I prefer to look at it as giving you a nudge.”
“If getting me fired and packing up my apartment behind my back is a nudge to you, then maybe we need a three-hour session today.”
“An extra hour for fucking?”
“Lucas,” she warns, her cheeks turning a hue of pink. “We don’t do that anymore. I’m your therapist now; no more fucking.”
“But I do think busting a nut would be very beneficial to my mental health.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m sure you are very capable of busting a nut on your own.”
“Yeah, but having a woman involved is more fun.”
“Are you done trying to avoid talking about your feelings?”
“Never!” I huff, sinking back into Lauren’s leather couch and propping my feet onto her coffee table.
Lauren leans back, mimicking my movement. Then she simply waits for me to say something. Her patience is endless. I know because I’ve tested it extensively.
“I’m angry,” I finally say.
“That’s nothing new.” She is right about that.
My anger is the reason I started seeing her in the first place. I was tired of being so fucking angry all the time. Angry with my parents, my brother, the council, and angry at the world. Maybe that’s the only feeling I’m actually capable of.
“Yes, but this is different.”
“Because this time you are angry with yourself.”
“Sometimes, I really hate how smart you are.”
She shrugs. “Wouldn’t do you any good if I was dumb.”
“I need a drink,” I say more to myself. Getting up, I walk toward the wet bar and grab a bottle of scotch. I don’t even bother with a glass. This is a bottle kind of session.
“How do I fix this?” I ask after taking a few long sips.
“You start by telling me about it. What’s going on in your mind right now?”
Too much. Which is the problem. I sit back down and drink a little more, simmering down the fury inside. “I want to kill someone, preferably Matteo or Nash, but they are already dead. All the Valentines are dead, which means there is no one left to kill.”
“Why do you want to kill them?”
“Because they hurt Aspen.” I want to do more than just kill them. I want to make them suffer, draw out their pain until they rot, and die an excruciating death.
“And you feel responsible for that?”
“I know it wasn’t my fault,” I lie. I could have stayed with her or taken her with me. I just left her at her house unprotected. I could have stopped it.
“Are you sure you know that? Or do you blame yourself?”
“What if I do?”
“Then you need to learn how to forgive yourself, which is often much harder than forgiving someone else.”
Great. “I’m done talking about this.”
“That’s fine. Let’s talk about something else.” She pauses, waiting for me to suggest something. When I stay quiet, she continues. “Do you want to talk about Aspen’s biological mother?” I shake my head before she finishes the sentence. “How about we talk about the future instead of the past? Tell me how you see the next few years panning out.”
“I guess not much will change for me. I’ll still be here. Aspen is returning to her regular class schedule, but I think she still wants me to give her self-defense lessons.”
“You think, or you hope?”
“Both. I want to spend time with her.” I equally enjoy and hate drinking during a session. Yes, it calms the raging storm inside my head, but it also makes me say things I wouldn’t admit so easily sober. I’m guessing that’s the reason Lauren lets me drink during therapy.
“That’s good. That’s very good.” She taps her pencil onto her notebook. She always has it in her lap when we talk, but she never actually writes anything inside.
“You sound surprised.”
“Because I am. Normally, your favorite thing to do is to push people away.” Yeah, I notice that too. Aspen is far from my norm. Everything involving her is upside down.
“I don’t know why things are different with her. They just are.”
“Are you happy about her being with Quinton?”