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“Do you think you need to continue with a therapist?” Derrick asked me.
“I don’t know. Don’t I?”
“Seems to me that we’ve worked through all the things you’ve come to me for. Things with Freya have turned out wonderfully, and the PTSD doesn’t control you anymore. You have proof now. Is there anything else you’d like to work through? I can give you a reference, but I’m not really sure you need it.”
I hadn’t considered the idea that maybe I didn’t need a therapist anymore. Working through things verbally had been like pulling teeth, and still kind of was, but he was right. I didn’t have anything else to say other than that I was doing better.
“Well shit, I guess not,” I agreed.
“I’m so happy for you,” he told me, that happiness staining his voice in a way that brought a smile to my lips. “You’ve come such a long way with things regarding your mom and dad, Freya, and the Raiders. I’ll still give you a reference for Vegas, but you can decide if you need to go back or not. Does that sound like a deal? If anything comes back up, or if you find that you need to talk something out with someone outside your immediate circle, then you give them a call.”
“Deal,” I agreed.
“Alright. Well, it’s been a pleasure, Ashton. We’ll send you an email with the reference, and you have my number, too.”
“Thanks, Derrick,” I told him, not sure how I could express my gratitude to any kind of proper amplitude to how deeply I felt it. “—for everything.”
“You take care,” he hummed back, and I kind of struggled with the idea that I likely wouldn’t ever talk to him again.
But like a Bandaid, I needed to rip it off.
“You too,” I agreed, then hung up the phone.
Sadness tried to well in my chest, but I rubbed it away. It was a sad prospect to not talk to him again, but what an advancement. I didn’t need therapy anymore. Doctor’s orders. Well, not really since Derrick wasn’t a doctor, but the phrase still had merit.
The door opened and Freya walked in, hair windswept since she’d driven the T-top Firebird in to work today.
“Hey sexy!” she called, coming to me immediately with arms wide open.
I took her into mine, holding her tight.
“You ok?” she asked, looking into my no-doubt red eyes.
I smiled for her to disarm her.
“I’m good,” I promised. “I called my therapist today and he agreed that I don’t need therapy anymore. I’ve managed to get my shit in order. That feels pretty good.”
Her bright smile beamed brighter.
“That’s amazing, Ash! We should celebrate!”
“The only way I want to celebrate is with you on your back, and we don’t have time for that.”
She gave a shrill laugh.
“That’ll have to wait until after the most awkward dinner in all history,” she agreed, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Get your ass changed, and we’ll leave.” I snapped a gentle palm against her ass that got her moving.
“Any luck in the job department?” she called over her shoulder.
I followed her back, because only an idiot would miss the opportunity to see his girlfriend in her skivvies.
“Nothing today,” I said, feeling a little sick at the admission. “I’ll find something soon though. It’s just a matter of finding someone who needs my experience.”
“I know you’ll find something,” she said, popping her head through the neck of a t-shirt. “Besides, you can take your time. My salary can pay for this place, no problem. And other than the fact that you eat as much as a freaking elephant, bills won’t really change with you being here.”
Damn, those words didn’t compute. No way was a woman paying my way. Especially the woman I loved.
