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As she leaves, all I get is, “fine.”
Great. Someone special finally comes along, and I’m already on my way to fucking it up.
But telling her some of the shit I’ve done would probably lead to the same outcome.
I go back to work for the next few hours, trying to keep busy as best I can. Avery stays in her office without even coming out for snacks, so I know she’s pissed.
Not wanting to make things any worse, when it’s time for me to head to therapy, I simply poke my head in.
Avery doesn’t bother to look up from her computer. She just gives a curt, “Alright.”
Knowing she’ll still probably be pissed at me later, I decide to add, “I’ll probably just stay at my place tonight.”
That gets her to glance at me. But she stays strong and just nods.
What the fuck am I doing?My heart urges me to walk inside–to tell her everything and just come clean and bare my soul.
But my head stops me.
So, I don’t do any of that. I just turn and walk out of the room.
“Alright, spill it,” Dr. Tucker says, setting down her notebook on the table next to her.
“Spill what?” I ask, a bit crankier than normal.
“Why you’re so irritable today?”
“I’m not,” I snap.
“You are actually. I thought you not having nightmares would be a relief, yet you seem even more tense than usual. Have the dreams come back?”
“No.”
“Does this have anything to do with your new boss that you’re sweet on?”
Did I tell her about my feelings for Avery last time without even knowing it? No way.
“How–” I begin.
The doc cuts me off. “Duke, it’s my job to examine human behavior. It doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Why don’t you tell me more about her?”
I think for a moment, unsure of whether or not I should divulge the secret we’ve been keeping so well.
But before I know it, it’s all coming out like word vomit. “Avery is unlike any woman I’ve ever met. As crazy as it sounds, I think she’s the reason my nightmares have stopped. When I sleep next to her, I sleep like a baby. She’s strong and feisty. She makes me laugh, and she does this cute little thing where she rambles–kind of like I am now,” I chuckle.
Dr. Tucker smiles. “She sounds great. I don’t understand why you’re so grumpy.”
“My mother called today.”
“Oh,” she replies, very well-aware of my issues with my mom.
“And Avery started asking questions. Questions that I wasn’t ready to answer.”
“Why not? Are you worried she’ll think less of you?”
I pause for a moment. “Maybe.”
She reaches forward and shuts off the tiny tape recorder she uses for all of our sessions. Then she takes off her glasses and looks at me.
