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I drop my keys on the console table and head toward her voice. When I step into the living room, she drops the magazine she’s reading and leans forward, obviously waiting for me to spill.
“Fine,” I mutter.
“You have to give me more than that. Did you figure out what the nightmares are about?”
“Syd, it was my first session,” I deadpan. “Do you really think we figured it out that quickly?”
She frowns. “Well, what did you talk about, then?”
“He asked about my job. I told him about my mom—”
“You told him about your mom?” Her eyes look huge with shock.
“Well, I told him it was just me and her, that’s all.”
“Oh.”
“It was weird, Syd. Telling someone my problems.”
“Anything else?”
I let out an audible groan. “Oh, my God, Sydney, I have barely shut the door and you’re already giving me the third degree.” I take a seat next to her on the couch. “I’m starved. Want to order in?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“What should we order?” I pull out my phone and start looking up delivery numbers saved on my phone. “Pizza?”
“Pizza is fine. So, that’s all I’m getting? Weird?”
“Yes. You know, like not knowing what to talk about or what to expect, weird.”
“So, basically your session was like the first awkward get to know you date, right?”
“That’s exactly what it was like.” And oh, was it ever. That awkward date in which you stare at the guy and think Lord, is he beautiful the whole time. Except it wasn’t a date. He’s my doctor, so these thoughts are not okay right now.
“Speaking of first dates . . . Is he still as hot as before?”
“Oh, my God, Syd! Leave me alone!” I laugh and throw a pillow at her.
She pretends to huff. “Fine, I’m going to take a quick shower.”
“Okay, I’ll stay here and listen for the pizza.”
She blows me an air kiss. “Thanks.” She starts out of the room, then looks over her shoulder and opens her mouth to say something but I stop her.
“Go shower. You smell.” I laugh.
Once she’s gone, I settle back into the couch and my thoughts drift back to my therapy session. God, I hope it helps.
Reaching into my purse, I pull out the notebook and squint my eyes at it. Here goes nothing.
Journal Entry
I hate that I have to do this. Not sure what it will actually accomplish. Well, I haven’t had a panic attack since I received this journal a few hours ago. So instead, I’ll write about my first time. Oh, shit, that didn’t sound good. Thank God, Dr. Montgomery doesn’t have to read this.
First attack. I had my first anxiety attack at Richard’s funeral. I have no idea where it came from. One minute I was there and the next I hyperventilated to the point of making myself crash. I remember little things.
I remember my rapid heartbeat.
I remember the cool sweat breaking out against my brow.
I remember being lost in my thoughts.
Then I remember nothing.
Laying my notebook down, I look over the words I wrote. Jotting down my feelings is somewhat comforting. Like I own the feelings. They don’t own me. Dr. Montgomery is obviously more than just a pretty face. He knows what he’s talking about.
Maybe weekly sessions with the doc won’t be so bad after all.
CHAPTER TEN
PRESTON
WHAT THE FUCK am I doing? I shouldn’t be speaking to this girl, let alone treating her. I knew it was coming; I tried to prepare myself but nothing could prepare me for how it felt when she sat across the room from me.
It was as if all the oxygen from my lungs was drained. I knew right then and there that this wasn’t fucking normal. The very second our gazes met, I knew I needed to tell her to leave. To go and never come back. She looked too much like Sloane and yet she was nothing like her. Every second she spoke, it became more apparent how different they were. Sloane was weak, but this girl . . . Eve Hamilton . . . She might not see it, but she is one of the strongest people I have ever met.
Looking toward the window, it appears snow is collecting on the surface. Bleak and depressing. Although I can see the outside, it feels as if the walls of my office are closing in. Familiar weaknesses are resurfacing. I grit my teeth. These are the feelings this girl brings out in me. She makes me remember. She reminds me of all my failures, shortcomings, and faults, but most of all her simple presence reminds me of all I lost.
The phone ringing on my desk pulls me from my inner turmoil. The Caller ID shows it’s my older brother. I wonder what he wants at this time of day. Usually he’s too busy to talk when he’s working. I pick up the phone but don’t even have time to speak before he utters one sentence that lands a punch in my gut.
“I need you.” Fuck.
“Why?” I answer. “What’s wrong?”
“Oh, God, nothing like that.” He laughs through the line. “It’s our anniversary and I’ve been so busy at work, and, well, I forgot.”
“Wow, you forgot your anniversary? That’s pretty low, even for you.”
“You don’t need to remind me what a fuck up I am. But the good news is she’ll never know. I’ve been working all day to plan something. I just need your help.”
“So what can I help you with?”
“I’m surprising her with a trip next month.”
“And?”
“I need you to watch the kids. Can you?” He lets out a long sigh.
“Whatever you need. You know that.”
“Yeah, I do. Thanks, Pres.”
Hanging up the phone, all I can do is shake my head. I’m shocked that he forgot. That wasn’t like him at all, but I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face knowing how hard he worked to right his wrong. Since Sloane, there’s been no one to make me feel that way. No one worth risking my heart for. Again. This kind of love gives me faith that maybe one day I’ll find someone worth risking it all for.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
EVE
JOURNAL ENTRY
Everything felt wrong. My heart was beating erratically in my chest. I had no control over it. No power over my body. My heart was seizing. I felt tears welling in my eyes.
By the time I made it to the bathroom, my breathing had become shallow. Every time I imagined what I would say if I bumped into someone, I lost my words. My fear dried my mouth . . . cemented my tongue. All I could do was wait for the lingering effects of the attack to pass.
I sit in the waiting area after a stressful day of work, watching the door for a sign of life. Will this ever get easier? It’s been one week. One week since I found the strength to walk into this building and figure out what is going on with me. One week since I welcomed Dr. Montgomery into my life. Unloaded my burdens and began to purge my soul. As the seconds pass and my thoughts continue to drift, I can’t help but wonder about my new psychologist. Who is this man? What makes him tick? When the familiar knots start to form, I shake the thoughts away. Just thinking of him and the beginning of our session ties me in knots.
“Ms. Hamilton, the doctor will see you now.” I peer up at her and she points in the direction of his office. “He said to show yourself back.”
With one hand tucked into my coat pocket, I make my way to Dr. Montgomery’s door and push it open. He’s just finishing up a call and motions to me to take a seat on the couch.
“Okay, sweetie. Of course I’ll be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” He has a smile on his face—one that doesn’t only touch his eyes, but also touches his soul. “Love you too.” Hearing those words leave his mouth has me feeling the strangest sort of feeling. Almost like jealousy, but it can’t be that. I don’t know this man well enough to be jealous.
No, what I’m jealous of is that feeling. To have someone love you, to belong to someone, to have your soul attached to someone else’s.
As he hangs up t
he phone, his eyes are still filled with a look I miss.
Unconditional love.
“Sorry about that. It’s my niece’s birthday today. Her party is this weekend.” His niece. The oxygen I didn’t know I was holding expels from my lungs.
“Lucky girl to have an uncle like you.”
“I’m the lucky one.” The warmth of his smile echoes in his voice, and at that moment I see a different side of him. It makes me trust him further. It makes me like him even more. “So, how are you today?”
“I’m okay. Work has been rough. Things with my mom have been tough. I guess everything has been hard,” I admit with a sigh.
“How so?”
