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“I see.” Her lips press into a thin line.

“I know it’s just a piece of paper. I know it shouldn’t have any bearing on my mental health whatsoever…”

“And yet, here we are,” she finishes for me.

“Here we are.” I let out an exasperated breath.

She offers me a kind smile, but it does nothing to ease the tension rebuilding across my shoulders. Just having the invitation within sight is enough to make every muscle in my body tighten.

“So… are you going?”

I blink at her in disbelief. “Is that a joke?”

“No,” she replies, watching me closely. “I’m being very serious. Do you intend to go?”

“Of course not.”

“Why not?”

I let out a humorless laugh. “You know why.”

She doesn’t respond right away, letting me sit with my own spiraling thoughts. But those same thoughts are what brought me here in the first place. By now, she knows me well enough to understand that anything connected to my past is a trigger.

“I see the reunion isn’t for another nine months,” she finally says, ending the silence.

“That’s what it says.” I swallow. “It couldn’t have come at a worse time. My publisher is hoping to release my new book around then too.”

She nods thoughtfully.

“Two very opposing events. One celebrates the person you’ve become…” Her attention drifts to the invitation. “While the other reminds you of everything you had to overcome.”

“Exactly.”

“Neither are bad things, Maxine. They can both help you grow.” I frown when she compares what I do for a living to the worst time in my life.

“How is a book release a bad thing?”

“I’m not saying it is.” Dr. Roberts shakes her head. “I’m saying that every time you release a book, you make yourself vulnerable. You’re putting something deeply personal out into the world. It’s only natural to spend those first few weeks expecting the worst.” She offers me a reassuring smile. “But we’ve come a long way since the first time you walked into my office. I think you’re much better equipped to handle that now.” My hackles rise when her attention returns yet again to the invitation resting on the table. “It’s the reunion I’d like us to focus on.”

“There’s nothing to focus on.” I shake my head. “I’m not going, and that’s that.”

When she closes her notebook and sets it on the coffee table between us, I brace myself. Leaning forward, she clasps her hands together, always making sure we’re at the same eye level. “I think the reunion could be an opportunity for you. An opportunity to finally let go of the baggage you’ve been carrying around all these years.”

I don’t say anything.

“You need to face your past, Maxine. Not because you think it defines you but because you’ve spent the last ten years letting it dictate your future.”

I wish that line didn’t land as well as it does, but damn it, it struck a chord.

“Everything that happened in Fairhope shaped the woman you’ve become. That is true. But it doesn’t have to decide who you’ll be tomorrow.”

Damn it. That line is even better.

“You make it sound like I’m chained to my past. I’m not. I’ve moved on.”

“Is that so?” She gestures toward the invitation. “Then why did a single piece of paper send you into a full-blown panic?”

I don’t have an answer for that. I mean, I do, but I just don’t want to give her one.