“I can’t.” Her voice is laced with venom. “I’m not losing my inheritance just because you’re a stuck-up bitch.”
I’m at my wits end with this patient.
“No other therapist would think you’ve made progress either, Gia. You’re confrontational and angry in every session. You show no remorse or desire to change. The problem’s not me, it’s you.”
A smile plays on her lips, her dark eyes alight. “And yet, you’re going to keep me here and let me graduate.”
I scrunch up my face in confusion. “I don’t think you’re hearing me.”
Gia leans forward. “You’re the one who needs to hear me, Dr. Wells. I may not have a fancy degree, but I’m pretty damn perceptive. And I know why you were so down at group yesterday.”
“You thought I was down?”
“You were. Staring at the door like a lost fucking puppy, waiting to see if your crush would walk through it.”
My heart speeds up. “What are you talking about?”
“You’ve got the hots for Alexei. I can see it all over your face every time you’re near him. And when he skipped group yesterday, it broke your pathetic little heart.”
I’ve been trained to keep my composure in all situations, and I do. But inside, I’m anything but cool.
“Gia, you’re imagining things. Alexei and I have a strictly professional relationship.”
“Only because he doesn’t like you back.” She looks me up and down before giving me a disdainful glance. “Might want to lay off the carbs if you want to snag a guy like him.”
I’ve disliked patients before. But never with the intensity that I despise Gia right now. She’s just spiteful. Hateful. Ugly. And completely right about my feelings for Alexei.
“You’re used to manipulating people and situations to suit you,” I say, working to keep my voice calm. “This is just another attempt to do that. But you’re wrong.”
She gets up from the couch. “So kick me out then. And I’ll tell your bosses about your unprofessional crush on one of your patients. You can deny it if you want, but the beet-red blush covering your cheeks will give you away, just like they are now.”
“Gia—”
“If I’m going down, you’re coming with me.” She gives me a pointed look. “See you at group, Doc.”
She leaves then, the slam of my office door making me jump. I close my eyes and try to gather myself, taking a deep breath.
Shit. What am I going to do? I can’t graduate Gia just to avoid her ratting me out about liking Alexei. That would be unethical on every level.
But then again, my crush on Alexei isn’t exactly ethical, either.
I should have moved him into another group as soon as my feelings for him started, but I was too embarrassed to admit the truth. And now, that truth has me afraid for my job.
Walking over to my desk, I log on to my computer and work on case notes for Gia. I should put her verbal threat down in writing for documentation purposes. That’s what a good therapist would do.
But I don’t.10AlexeiThe morning after I left Grayson’s office mid-session, I walk back through the same door, this time more like a dog with my tail between my legs. I skipped group yesterday, too, because I was still pissed and didn’t feel like talking yet.
After thinking about it all evening and well into the night, though, I’m not mad anymore. Instead, I just feel like a jackass. I need to apologize, but I’m dreading it. I’d rather take a direct hit to my face from an enforcer than apologize. I’ve never been any good at it.
“Morning,” Graysen says, getting up from her desk chair and picking up her legal pad. “Ready to get started?”
“Yeah.” I sit down on the couch and take a deep breath, rehearsing the words I’ve been going over again and again in my head since last night.
I was wrong. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.
“Let’s talk about the situations you found yourself in that made it easier to drink.”
She’s looking at the notebook in her lap, and several seconds of silence pass as I wait for her to look up at me. But weirdly…she doesn’t.
“Hey,” I say softly, trying to get her attention.
“Whenever you’re ready,” she says, writing something on her legal pad.
I wait some more, but she never looks up.
“Graysen?”
“Dr. Wells, please.” Her tone is detached and it hits me all at once—I really fucked up yesterday.
“Okay, Dr. Wells…I need to apologize about yesterday. I was wrong. It won’t happen again.”
“No need to apologize, let’s—”
“I definitely need to. You didn’t deserve that reaction. You were just doing your job, trying to help me. My brother’s a touchy subject for me, but that’s no excuse.”
“Don’t worry about it. Let’s talk about the places you liked to drink and the people who were with you. We need to identify your drinking comfort zone, so we can talk about ways to break out of it.”