“Yeah, I’m okay. Just got dizzy there for a second, that’s all.”
She looked at me, reading right through my bullshit. A smirk tugged at her lips. “Right. And I’ve never heard that one before.”
Our eyes met in an all-knowing glance. I dropped mine to my lap, feeling shitty for lying to her.
“Come on,” she said. “I could use a chat about today’s session.” She held out her hand to help me up. I gave in, taking it as she hoisted me to my feet. I glanced out the window, defeat settling over me when I realized I hadn’t caught up to Lennon. I wondered if she’d be upset that I hadn’t chased after her—at least, not in a way she’d noticed.
As we headed back to Room C125, I had the feeling Dana would ask about my illness—something I hadn’t exactly divulged yet. She pointed toward the snacks, ever the hostess, before taking a seat. I sat down across from her, quietly declining the food.
“So, Asher. Tell me,” she began.
I braced myself. I assumed she was about to ask why I was here. I never liked opening that door. People’s perspectives always shifted afterward. Even when they didn’t mean to, their subconscious took over, offering me the easy road, the gentler path. I couldn’t stand it. I didn’t want anything I hadn’t earned; my whole life already felt like that.
“Tell you what?” I asked curiously.
“Tell me why you were chasing after Lennon,” she clarified confidently. “It seemed like things were going okay, and then they took a turn.”
Caught off guard, I let out a short chuckle. “I thought it was going okay, too. Lennon’s hard for me to read. I don’t know what I said that set her off, but the last I saw, she was running away angry. I felt like I needed to clear the air before she disappeared—but I couldn’t catch up to her.”
It helped that the conversation had gone in that direction, but I still didn’t feel completely safe. Dana pressed her lips together, thinking for a moment before she spoke.
“You know,” she said carefully, “Lennon was placed with you strategically. Due to confidentiality, I can’t say why. But it was intentional—because of your desire to remain earthside. I know you’ve had your share of lows, but I think your strong motivation to be here could really help Lennon.”
She seemed to be holding so much back. I understood confidentiality better than most because of my mother. She’d always been adamant about the importance of keeping her clients’ personal business under lock and key. It appeared Dana felt the same way, too.
“She already told the group that she was a part of the assisted suicide program,” I said. “So I know she intentionally wants to die.” I hoped Dana might cave, even just a little, and let something slip.
She nodded. “All I’m saying is—be gentle with her. Think about it: if you wanted to die so badly, so much that you’re willing to undergo a twelve-week intensive therapy program just to die at the end…imagine how different your mindset would be throughout that time.”
The question that had been circling my brain finally came to the forefront. “I don’t want her to do it,” I said, then hesitated. “But why wouldn’t she just…you know…do it herself if she wanted it that badly?”
There it was. The words I hadn’t wanted to say out loud. The words I was terrified she might overhear—terrified they’d plant a seed and push her to go through with it immediately. Just thinking them scared the shit out of me.
Dana tilted her head toward her shoulder, a soft smile forming. “Oh Asher. Everyone has a reason for how they operate. I’m sure Lennon does, too. All we can do is be supportive.” Shepaused. “As her partner, support her in this little project I’ve assigned.”
It felt as though she told me so much, and nothing at all.
I let out a slow breath, stood from my seat, and headed for the doorway. “Thanks for the chat,” I said, genuinely meaning it.
She nodded. “Oh—and one more thing, Asher. Don’t go running after her like that. You’re going to give yourself a heart-attack…or a heartache. One of the two.”
Little did she know how right she was.
Lennon
What the hell was I doing?I couldn’t believe I had opened up to him during the last hour. I could feel myself loosening up, I could feel myself relax—and I fucking hated it. I hated that he made me feel like that with such ease. I didn’t want to feel okay around him. He was going to swoop in and fuck up all my plans.
While running down the sidewalk, I looked back and realized I had lost him. Wow, I was surprised he had given up so easily. Not that I wanted him to try, but I didn’t know what I wanted. Why did I feel this confusion taking over me? I slowed my steps to a casual walk, taking in the world around me. It could all be just so beautiful if it weren’t tainted with deceit and unbearable evil.
Walking back to my apartment, I felt lost. It had been so infuriatingly easy, just marking down make believe things on a list with some stranger. It felt easy to lie like that—until I looked down and saw my name written in front of his. I knew he didn’t know my last name, but just the way he had written mine down, right before his. It caused a hurricane inside of me. He would never know that a small part of me longed for the kind of love it would take to marry someone.
I had never experienced it. I had never experienced any kind of love that was worth writing home about. Everyone made itseem just so…beautiful. A part of me wondered if they were faking it—every one of them, fakes. It would make sense, though. So much about love came with pain.
People cheated and lied to the people they so-called loved. People abused the ones they apparently loved. People were cruel and turned spouses into victims. I wasn’t about to become another fucking statistic. I had felt some type of love a long time ago, and I’d never feel it again. There was no way in this lifetime that I’d fall into a love that masks as a facade for cruelty.
Shaking my head, I was frustrated that I had allowed my inner demons to reflect over some measly error that Asher put onto the page. He didn’t know that there was some deep-seated part of me that would have once loved to be married. He didn’t know why I was the way I was.
I had to get tougher. That part was simple. I couldn’t allow myself to show him that side of me ever again. I had eleven weeks remaining, so I had to hold it in—keep it under wraps and ensure that part of me remained locked down. This assignment needed to go a whole lot smoother moving forward if I was going to last here.
