“You almost decked a fuckingdetective!” he yells, flinging his arm out towards the police station.
“Did you hear what he said to Hudson?” I scream back, my voice cracking. My entire body is vibrating, my heart thudding to the point of pain.
Dad shakes his head, his jaw set tight. “Get in the car. We will finish this at home.” He stomps off to where his car is parked on the curb, slamming the door after he slides into the driver’s seat. He cranks up and idles, waiting for me to follow.
Mom comes over and lays her hands on my shoulders. “No part of what just happened is acceptable, no matter what was said.” She kisses my cheek, then climbs into the passenger seat.
Mrs. Nora slides up next to me, her hand gentle on my cheek as she turns my face towards hers. “I will always be grateful for how you protect and stand up for Hudson, but getting yourself into trouble is only going to hurt him.” Her voice is soft, but her next words feel like a bomb going off. “Don’t you think we’ve all hurt enough?”
Guilt and shame collide, turning my stomach, but the anger is still raging in my veins. I don’t know how to shut it down, and every second it burns, I feel less like myself.
My dad was right that day in the hospital parking lot.
I’m not sure I know who I am anymore.
I’m not sure I care.
Chapter twenty-three
Cullen
“Okay, Cullen. Why don’t we start with why you are here?”
I’m sitting ramrod straight on the couch in Maria’s office, my hands locked together between my knees. My emotions are raw from the police station last night, and I’m pissed my Dad pulled strings to get me in here this fast.
Maria waits patiently for me to answer, but I roll my lips inward to keep from telling her what a load of bullshit I think this is. My eyes sweep the small room, cataloging anything that isn’t her face.
“Let’s try this then. What just went through your mind when I asked that initial question?”
I scoff, my eyes fixed on the small diffuser releasing a mist of lavender fragrance. I inhale it deeply, willing it to calm my racing heart.
Maria sighs. “Cullen, refusing to answer is not going to make this all go away. I want you to know that this is a safe space and nothing that you say or do will leave these four walls.”
My gaze finally meets Maria’s warm, brown eyes, acknowledging her for the first time since I walked in. She looks to be in her late twenties, with curly black hair and a kind smile. She’s dressed down in a nice pair of dark jeans and a white button-up shirt, half tucked. She’s attractive, which throws me off a little bit. I’ve always assumed therapists wore stuffy suits, with their hair pulled back into a severe bun. Maria is more casual, more approachable. It admittedly makes me comfortable enough to answer her last question.
“I’m here because everyone thinks I’m angry and carrying trauma from—” my eyes close, the sting of tears threatening to fall.
“From the threat of your boyfriend’s stalker and his subsequent suicide attempt,” Maria finishes for me.
I open my eyes and nod. My knee bounces and my hands are starting to ache from how hard they are clasped together.
Maria makes some notes on her notepad before asking another question. “And doyouthink you need to be here?”
“I was forced to be here,” I reply, my voice flat.
“That’s not what I asked you.” She gives me a pointed look.
I sink down into the couch cushions and cross my arms. My eyes travel to the windows when I answer her. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re not sure or you don’t want to admit that you may need help?”
Fuck therapists and their probing. I guess I should have known she would be able to dig deep into my wounds and rip them wide open. And you know what? Fuck it. The words start to tumble out before I can even stop them.
“I can’t focus on myself until Hudson is better. I wasn’t good enough for him before he jumped, so now isn’t the time for me to fall apart.” My knee jackhammers, a hectic rhythm that matches the pounding in my chest. “If I’m busy focusing on my issues, then I may miss something—a sign. They were there before, andI ignored them. It’s because of me that he jumped. He even told me the river would be a nice place to die. I walked in on him clutching his pill bottle. I watched the light drain from his eyes, and the shadows take its place. I saw itall,and I still let him walk out of my house that day.” My voice breaks on the last word. My lungs are heaving and tears are tracking down my cheeks. But I’m not finished yet, and Maria can sense that.
“I’m so fucking mad at Hudson.”
Maria sits patiently, taking quiet notes and letting me word-vomit all over her office.
