Chapter Twenty
Dominic
Fuck…
It’s this type of shit that can send a man over the edge.The kind of shit he gets himself into and can't figure a way out.
Candace's words haven't stopped ringing through my mind.Her words and the disappointment in her eyes are stuck in my head and there's not a damn thing I can do to refute what she said because she was right.
My actions weren't anything close to a man who claims to love her.What cut me deep and made me realize I didn't have a leg to stand on was when she said no one would have been able to contact me if anything had happened to her.The way I left was purely selfish, but all I was thinking about was cleaning up.I wasn't thinking straight.
Looking back now, I'm not sure if I was thinking at all.What I did is so unlike me. I'm not that person.I'm not the kind of man who would treat his woman that way.But fuck... that's the point.She's not mine.
I didn’t sleep last night, so I’m cranky and pissed.
As if I don't have the biggest shit of my life to worry about with these people from the Order and the weird connection with the man who killed Candace's parents,I kept thinking of how I was going to get her back.
I had that out of control feeling again for everything, so when morning dawned I did the thing I've been putting off for a few days and made my appointment to see Dr. Wainwright,a Consultant Psychotherapist in drug addictions.
I made contact because the last time I felt this way, I turned to drugs.
I’m in the waiting room of the clinic staring at the brightly colored school of Disc fish in the aquarium.I’m the only patient here, which is great.I haven’t been waiting long, and they know from my name I’m not to be kept waiting so I’m not surprised when the receptionist comes out to get me five minutes after I sit down.
“Mr. D’Agostino, Dr. Wainwright will see you now, if you’ll follow me,” she says, setting her shoulders back.
“Thank you.”
When her face wrinkles into a smile, I guess smiling is a thing she rarely does.
She reminds me of an old schoolmarm, the ones I used to get in trouble with all the time when I was a kid.
I follow her into a neat little office where I meet Dr. Wainwright.His name fits his face. I expected someone who looked like Dick Van Dyke in Diagnosis Murder.Dr. Wainwright looks a little like him with his white hair and beard.
He has unusual hazel eyes though and a younger face which suggests he’s not as old as his beard makes him appear.
Since I was given his name by the Healer in Tibet I didn’t do the ground work I’d normally do.
We shake hands and the receptionist leaves us.
“Dominic D’Agostino I’ve been expecting you.Please sit.”
“Thanks.” I sit before him in the soft leatherback chair and humble myself.
I don’t do that for everybody.I can’t quite recall when I last did it but I’m the one who needs him, not the other way around.
“I’m glad you made your appointment.It’s good to have a point of contact even if you don’t need me.”
“I figured. Sorry I didn’t get around to doing it before.Things have been busy, and it’s been hard coming home,” I explain.
He nods understanding. “That part was always going to be hard.How are you doing?”
“I’m not bad.” When asked that question in the rehab world, they’re not asking how your day is going.They mean do you feel you need to turn to drugs again?“I just wanted to check-in. I didn’t want to get stuck in work like last time and then take the easy way out.”
“Have you felt like taking the easy way out recently?” he asks with understanding, and I appreciate that.
“No,” I answer honestly. “I haven’t.I think I feel like I might do when I reach that point where I lose control.”
Like last night when I realized I might have lost Candace for good.