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“No,” I say with a soft chuckle. “They wouldn’t.”
“Have you been saving any money, Hunter?”
I’m taken about by the question. I don’t know why. It’s a reasonable question to ask given that I’ve been working so hard these past several months. I feel like last Saturday was my first day off—when I went to the cabin and visited with Lucas’s parents. It was great to be with Rachel and the bros again. I feel like I rarely see Rachel these days. We’re both so busy.
“Yeah,” I say hesitantly. “Not much though. The money I received from selling my apartment in Chicago has gone to school, and a third of my pay at the gym goes to school supplies. Why do you ask?”
Dr. Forrester shrugs. “Maybe you can look into getting your own place.”
“I don’t know,” I say with a grimace, recalling the last time I lived alone and how I completely went off the wagon. “I don’t think living alone is a good idea for me when I’m still having issues remaining sober.”
“Well, that’s all we have for today, Hunter,” Dr. Forrester says while snapping her book shut. “I think we should schedule another session for this week. Say Friday?”
I nod. “Yeah, that’ll be great.”
“Have you changed your schedule again?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know if it will help.” I stand and stride towards her, already reaching for the check in my pocket that I filled out before I came. “I love my job, but I might have to quit.”
“Why doesn’t the gym ban her if she’s bothering you so much.”
I roll my eyes. “Because Tony is a sexist asshole. He doesn’t think someone like Millie can harass a big guy like me. Whereas, I’m practically a teddy bear. I may look big, but I won’t harm a fly.”
Dr. Forrester smiles sadly while opening the door and guiding me toward the receptionist. “Well, you might need to look into a different job. Maybe something online?”
I nod in agreement while I hand the check over to the receptionist, but I can’t help but feel frustrated. I get where Dr. Forrester is coming from, but why should I have to change my life to suit Millie. And how will working online help me? It means I will be alone at home more often. My mind will wander and I will get that urge to drink. Part of me thinks I need anew therapist—someone who understands what it’s like to be going through these ups and downs. Dr. Forrester is great and all, but I doubt she can empathize with my situation. She’s also a therapist Dad picked out for me. I love Dad, and I think he did a good thing by helping me find a therapist, but Dr. Forrester wasn’t my choice. As a fully-fledged adult now, I feel like I need to be making my own choices, especially where my mental health is concerned.
I get into my car and drive the fifteen minutes to Fitness Express, blasting some old school heavy metal music with the window down, not caring who I bother. Metal music is the one thing that can get me through these dark thoughts. The screaming, the lyrics, the heavy guitar and drums—all of it soothes the anger and sadness inside me, leaving a smile on my face. Amy should be working the afternoon shift with me. She’s been my guardian angel through all of this. I don’t know what I would do without her. She’s told me time after time to right a complaint and file it with Tony about Millie, but I’ve been pushing it off, thinking Tony won’t believe me. Now, I’m wondering if it will benefit me. It might be good to have a file on Millie of Tony ever fires me because of her.
I park the car and throw open the door, grabbing my bag in the back before locking the car. It’s Mom’s old car. Rather than sell it, Dad thought it would be useful to have two cars just in case I would ever need one. It’s small and black—a Volkswagen, and it brings back memories of me driving with her to the grocery story. It’s a bit cute for me. And quite small for my long legs, but it gets me around. With my kind of paycheck, I can’t be too choosy.
I throw my bag over one shoulder and saunter towards the entrance, my feet stalling when I see a familiar blonde ponytail. My heart completely stops as I watch Millie peak inside the large windows of Fitness Express. Is she looking inside to see if I’m there? This is on stalker level. My palms grow sweaty. I urge myself to continue, but I can’t move. This is beyond staler level. This is fucking crazy scary. Why is she even here? What does she want from me?
Millie steps away from the windows, looking frustrated while she looks around. I lunge towards an SUV parked near my car, hiding myself behind its huge frame. I wait for her to leave, but instead she paces back and forth outside the gym as if waiting for me to appear. There’s no way I can get past her without her noticing. The backdoor is on the other side. I could drive over there, but she will most likely notice my car and me inside. There’s no way I can walk around the building. I’m pretty much trapped.
When her back is turned, I race into my car, throwing the door open and turning on the ignition, my hands shaky. I don’t bother to buckle my seat belt, just wanting to get out of there before she notices me. I pull out of my spot, grabbing my belt and pulling it across from me while I steer the wheel with one hand. In seconds I’m on the street, driving past Fitness Express. I have no clue where I’m going. All I know is I can’t go to work today, not with Millie guarding the door like some sort of German Shepherd.
I drive with no final destination in mind, allowing my hands to steer the wheel, hardly paying attention to the street lights and the signs I pass by. All I can think about is the need to be as far away from Millie as possible. I turn into a small suburban area, realizing after several minutes that it’s Rachel and the bros neighborhood. I park the car several feet down the road from their apartment. My hands grasp the steering wheel tightly as I breath in deeply, trying to calm the desperate pounding in my chest in vain.
I can’t go on like this. What do I do? Get a new job? File a report, like Amy recommended? Something needs to happen. I hate this pain stabbing through me, hate the twisting inside me, making me feel like I’m going to vomit or pass out. This can’t go on anymore.
Shakily, I grab my phone from my pocket and quickly dial Amy. She answers on the first ring.
“Hey,” she begins, her tone worried, “where are you? I thought I saw you from the window, but then you disappeared.”
“I-I’m sorry, Amy,” I croak. God, why do I sound so weak? “I can’t come in t-today.”
“Are you feeling unwell?”
“Y-yeah,” I say. Technically, it’s the truth. I’m feeling mentally unwell, which is hindering my physical health. “I won’t be coming in today.”
“Totally fine,” Amy says. Those two words are enough to release the tension in mays shoulders and I release a long song in relief. “I will call Kristy. She’s been wanting more hours so I don’t think she’ll mind. Call me when you start feeling better.”
“Thank you, Amy.”
“And, Hunter—” She pauses, and my hand tightens on the phone, wondering if she’s going to tell me that Tony is upset for me calling so late, or Millie is currently listening to our conversation. My worries are squashed when she finally says, “I really think you should file a report when you return.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, my head lowering as the image of Millie pacing outside the gym replays in my head. “Yeah,” I say shakily. “I will.”
