Well, my sister's house in Berlin already had a family renting it now. But my folks' house was to be sold off.
"How does it make you feel?" Doc asked.
I shot her a look, 'cause we'd been over this before.
She chuckled. "I know you dislike the phrase, but it's the only way I can cover all bases. I can tell by your behavior from last session and this one that you wish to be done, and I understand that. It's been a rough year." She paused, scrolling a little on her iPad. "How did your date go after last time?"
I flinched internally. "That was a fucking disaster."
Last winter, Julian confessed he and Nicky were dating. I hadn't reacted very well. He had no clue, but I'd taken it pretty hard, which had infuriated me. He was doing the right thing, and I had tried, too.
By getting wasted and banging a new woman every weekend. For a few months, I'd woken up every Sunday morning in a strange bed before doing the walk of shame. The shame was new. I'd never cared before, but shit had changed.
I stopped eventually because it made me sick, and Kendall suggested going on an actual date. Try to get to know someone.
"How so?" She put aside her tablet for this one, ready to listen and analyze. "You said she seemed different."
"Sure, at the bar." My date in question was supposed to have been another hookup. Instead, I'd asked her out. Big mistake. "Halfway through our dinner, it was the same old shit. It felt wrong."
I had felt wrong. Summer was perfectly nice, but something had been off with me.
"Something that was said, or…?" Doc prodded.
I frowned and rubbed at the back of my neck. "No, I just wasn't feeling it anymore. I zoned out and couldn’t pay attention. No interest." And at the end of the date while we waited for her cab, I'd kissed her and nothing.
She hummed. "When you zoned out, where did your thoughts take you? Do you remember?"
I blew out a breath and stretched out my legs, thinking back. "Probably work." The second my mind turned to work, I was a happy motherfucker. I believed in our script, and I loved being in the director's chair for once. "Around the time of our date…" It hit me, and I straightened in my seat. "I think it was the day after Julian had finally let me hear one of his original songs." Brilliant, that kid. Jesus fucking Christ, he played and sang to rip out hearts. "It's way too soon to think about the score for the film, but I remember having that song on a loop in my head. I want it in the film."
I hadn't told Julian yet. He was dead set on making it on his own, but I'd get my way somehow. The song was perfect for one of the heavier scenes in the movie.
"That’s interesting," the doc noted. "So work- and Julian-related. We've already established you're quite the workaholic." She sent me a pointed look, but she was a shrink. She probably saw unhealthy behavior everywhere, but fucking welcome to the industry. "Sounds like you're simply not in the right headspace for a new relationship."
No shit.
She lifted a brow. "This does not mean I recommend you go back to your previous coping methods."
Obviously. I preferred not being nauseated.
"I'll date my hand." I shrugged.
Porn worked all right; it provided me with visuals. I didn't need to think then. I couldn’t risk jacking off away from a TV or laptop. My mind wandered, and I didn't always like where my fantasies headed. Or rather, I liked them too much.
"How is Julian doing?"
"You probably know more than I do."
After all, we saw the same shrink.
Kendall smiled ruefully. "I'm not asking about his feelings or personal opinions, Noah." She made a sweeping motion with her finger on the tablet. "You've told me he's barely home. Is that still true?"
I was willing to bet she knew the answer to that, too. If I wasn't mistaken, he was here a few days ago.
"He's a busy kid." I could admit I wasn't the easiest patient.
Had my pop been alive, he would've chuckled and shaken his head at his boy going to therapy. I wasn't created from the same stock, but maybe I had a foot in the door of the old school, too. Opening up like this wasn't my forte. But…being open about Julian? Even worse. I clammed up like a nerd in front of the prom queen.
I had a good excuse, though. 'Cause she knew. Julian had asked for permission months ago to tell the doc about our night, and as reluctant as I had been for that to get out, I would never stand in the way of his recovery, whatever that entailed. So she knew, and she often tried to get me to talk about it. But I hadn't told her much, only that I'd felt this otherworldly need to…all but consume him, I guessed I could describe it as.