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“Even if you knew it was doomed from the start?” I leaned my elbows on my knees. “Even if you knew that you’d only end up right back where you started, heartbroken and alone?”
Ridge looked over at me, tilting his head. “I guess you have to ask yourself if the time with her would be worth the pain.”
“She’s worth everything,” I immediately said, and he grinned like the Cheshire Cat, a rarity from my default-grumpy-setting friend.
“I rest my case,” he said.
“You’re a dick,” I said, laughing.
“Yeah, but I’m a dick who’s usually right.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t argue, and as much as I wanted to sprint out of his place and track Anne down, I stayed seated. He may be right, but that didn’t mean she felt the same way. She might’ve been totally content with our one-night deal we made last week. That might’ve been enough for her.
And until I felt otherwise, I couldn’t push her.
CHAPTER11
Anne
“So your father is still pushing really hard for a romantic relationship with Brad?” Dr. Casson asked me.
“Yes,” I answered, sighing as I settled more comfortably into my chair. I’d lost count of what session we were on, but each one was getting better and better.
I no longer felt that intense need to defend myself or deflect on any particular question. Dr. Casson had more than earned my trust, never once showing me any sort of judgment but instead offering me an insight to myself I’d never had before.
“And how are the feelings you’re having for Jim affecting the already strained situation with your father?”
“We haven’t really spoken much since the disaster at Thanksgiving,” I said, anger flaring at the memory. “I honestly don’t understand how my father can be so disdainful toward Jim. When we were teenagers? Sure, okay, I get it. He was a father trying to protect my future and assumed our relationship was nothing more than a young, fleeting love.” He still didn’t have to be such an asshole about it. “But now?” I shook my head. “I know I’ve made mistakes in my life. I’m owning that, as much as it hurts. But I’m an adult, and Jim is absolutely the nicest, most sincere and compassionate person I’ve ever met.”
“And you wish those qualities would matter to your father over titles and positions,” she said.
“Yes.” I nodded, waving a hand toward her. “You get it. You getme.” It was refreshing and gave me a sense of solidarity where so many other aspects of my life left me crumbling.
Dr. Casson smiled, her lips painted a pretty shade of hot pink today, giving some fun life to her white silk blouse and black pencil skirt outfit.
“I appreciate that,” she said, taking a sip from the water on her desk.
“I’m doing everything my father is asking of me,” I continued. “Not that what he’s asking is outrageous. I’ve messed up. A lot. I get it. But the least he could do is give me some credit. Jim isn’t like any of my exes, and it’s not like I’m trying to marry the guy. We’re just…”
What were we? It’s not like we’d talked about it before we had our one-night agreement, and we hadn’t done anything remotely close to that again. I kept trying, kept asking for more time with him, but he kept shutting me down—in that nice, sweet way of his. Did I know he’d be a thousand times better off without me attached to him? Yes, I did. Did I selfishly want to be worthy of a love like his? Also, yes.
“You have been tackling your father’s demands like a form of atonement,” she said, brow pinching slightly. “But I hope you realize that the success you’re having in your life right now—the sobriety, the accomplishments, the mending of relationships with most of your family—that has nothing to do with your father’s demands.”
I tilted my head, totally confused. “If he hadn’t forced me to secure a job, an apartment, all of it…” I couldn’t finish the end of that sentence. I didn’t know where I’d be, but the therapy that was helping me in all facets of my life? That was all Sephie, not my father. That made this process nothing but a warm, welcomed experience for me, while the other demands were shrouded in a cold indifference because of the person forcing them on me.
“You still would’ve come to me,” she said when I didn’t continue. “Because of your sister, right? She recommended me.” I nodded, and she gave me a soft smile. “And you’ve been doing the hard work in here,” she continued. “As much as working at Lyla’s and doing volunteer work at the station is changing your outlook on life, in here is where you’ve been struggling the most.” She tapped the end of her pen against the center of her chest. “And here.” She moved the pen to her temple.
“I know you’re right,” I said. Waiting tables wasn’t easy. Working for Jim wasn’t easy. Paying my own way for the first time in my life wasn’t easy. I loved the challenge in all of it, but working on myself? That was the most difficult thing I’d ever done in my life.
“As much as you’re owning what you conceive as your failures in life,” she said, “you need to own that you’re doing so well now because of you. Not because of your father or his demands. Not because of the new friendship with Brad or the budding prospects of a relationship with Jim. Not even because of the encouragement and support from your sister. This is allyou.”
Tears of gratitude filled my eyes, and I tried to laugh them off and brush them away. “I don’t think anyone has ever spoken to me like that before,” I said. “No one outside of Jim.”
Something like sadness weighed in her eyes before she smoothed it away, replacing it with a professional mask of non-bias. “That is unfortunate,” she said. “But you can’t control other people’s reactions to you or your choices. You’ve learned that here, and have utilized the tools I’ve given you to help you with your progress. It’s time for you to start seeing yourself as the worthy individual you are instead of the troubled, dark mark on the VanDoren name that your family has made you feel like for all these years.”
I sucked in a deep breath, shaking my head. “It’s not all their fault,” I admitted. “I know that now. After what happened…I didn’t realize what I was doing, but after seeing you so many times and digging into my past, I can see what I was doing. Trying to erase and outrun something that I’d never be able to face and blaming everyone else around me and taking it out on them when they had no responsibility in the matter at all.”
Guilt sank heavy against my chest, the brutal sting all too real without the slow, numbing burn of an alcohol haze. The craving tickled the back of my throat, whispering promises of an escape into my ear. It never went away, that initial reaction to reach for something that would quiet my mind, but I’d gotten a hell of a lot better at acknowledging it and then putting it in its place.
