Page 203 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

“Would you really report me?” John asked. “If I didn’t show up to my appointments, I mean.”

Leonard chuckled. “Should I, John?”

He looked over at the therapist. The man simply raised a thick, white eyebrow in response, waiting for John’s answer. Leonard was too good at this shit, but frankly, John was more grateful to this man than anyone could possibly know.

“Thank you for giving my parents an answer all those years ago,” John murmured. “I imagine it can’t be easy to tell someone that their kid is—”

“Not crazy. Not in need of a cure to be curable. Don’t say those things.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Then what?”

John smirked. “I was just going to say bipolar, actually.”

Leonard nodded, and the man’s gaze turned pensive for a moment. “I know you may have felt like I sentenced you to something you did not want back then, John, but I hope in a way that you found relief in having the right answer, too.”

“I did—it took a while.”

“Sometimes it does for those with bipolar.”

“But thank you.”

Leonard waved a hand high, and settled back into the bench. “No thanks needed.”

“You didn’t answer my question, by the way. I’m emotionally unstable sometimes, but not dumb or stupid.”

The older man laughed hard and loud, and his sharp gaze cut to John in a flash. “Which question—whether I would report you or not for missing appointments with me?”

“Yes.”

“Well, you didn’t answer me, John. Should I report you?”

John really didn’t have to think about his answer. It wasn’t an easy answer, sure. The thing was, nothing about his life or his disorder was easy. It couldn’t be, and it was never going to be. That was something he was taking away from this place, and because of the man sitting beside him. Yet another thing to be grateful for.

For some reason, John had a sneaking suspicion that there was going to be a lot to be grateful for over his lifetime where Leonard was concerned. At least, during the period that Leonard was his therapist.

“I’m choosing stability,” John said after a moment.

“You are.”

“And so yes,” he added, “you should report me.”

Leonard reached over and clapped John firmly on the shoulder. He wasn’t really the touchy-feely-type, but he was getting better at it. He had learned that sometimes a hand on his shoulder was meant to praise him, and not simply break through his personal space barriers.

He had spent almost five months at Clearview Oaks. For some people, that would seem like a ridiculously long amount of time simply to reset, recharge, and get their shit figured out. At first, it had seemed like a long time to John, too.

Sometimes, mental health couldn’t be fixed with new meds, a couple of chats, and a pat on the back. Sometimes, mental health was so much more than the disorder a person lived with, and the outlook it gave them.

Mental health could not be timed.

It could not be wished it away.

It took patience.

John had needed this.

Damn, how he needed this.