Page 136 of Getting Down to Business

“He did?” Alyssa cried harder.

“Yes. But I probably shouldn’t have told you that.”

“He was wrong.” Obviously. She was a mess.

“I didn’t want him to go either, but he wouldn’t listen to me when I asked him to stay. What did he say when you asked?” Izabelle said while rubbing Alyssa’s back.

Alyssa sat up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“I–I didn’t ask him to stay.”

“I’m confused.”

“So am I,” Alyssa conceded. “I think I need to see someone. I’m so messed up. I didn’t think I deserved to be happy with Grayson so I messed it up. I saw myself doing it, and I still couldn’t stop.”

“Why would you say you don’t deserve to be happy?” Izabelle had slipped into psychiatrist mode. Alyssa felt excited for a second.

“You’re a shrink! You can help fix me!”

Izzy held up her hands in front of her and shook her head.

“As much as we love being called that, no. I don’t take on patients who I know personally. You would need to see someone else. I can refer you to someone if you’d like, and I’ll be here if you need to talk, but I can’t offer any advice. I’m compromised.”

“Sure. Yes. I want to talk to someone. I’m ready.”

“Good. It might have been better if you’d been ready a month or so ago, but at least you’re doing it.” Izzy smiled.

“I know. My timing is off.”

“Go get dressed. We need a drink.” It was a strange therapy for a psychiatrist to employ, but Alyssa didn’t question it.

The next Tuesday after work, Alyssa sat in the lobby of Dr. Drenner’s office.

The tiny woman was in her fifties and had photos of St. Bernards and family members all over her office.

Alyssa spoke until she was hoarse at the first meeting and the second and the third. Dr. Drenner wasn’t bringing much to the table. She was just listening and asking more questions to get Alyssa to talk.

Eventually, she folded her hands together and nodded.

“Why did you leave the courtroom before the last woman took the stand to testify?” the doctor asked.

“I realized he was lying. I didn’t need to hear her story to be convinced.”

“You told me three times that you left without hearing her story. Why did you mention it so many times?”

“I don’t know. Aren’t you supposed to have all the answers?”

“No. I’m supposed to point out the answers to you.”

Alyssa tried to think about why she might have said it three times. She didn’t know. She hadn’t even realized she mentioned it more than once.

“I don’t know,” she finally said.

“The sweatshirt convinced you of his guilt.”

“Yes. And the scar on his arm,” Alyssa explained.

“The scar put there by the second victim.”