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“Then you know what happened to me.” My throat tightened, but I forced my words to come out strong.
“I do. And I stand by my words: you went through something traumatic.”
“Then why aren’t you trying to force me to talk about it?”
Her perfectly manicured eyebrows quirked up. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No, not particularly,” I said. “I don’t even like talking about it to the people closest to me. Which is why I never understood why the High Faction thought I would be so open to talking to a stranger, even if they are a professional.”
“Which is why I decided to start simple and ask how your day is,” she said, placing her stilo in the spine of her notebook. “Relationships take trust, this is no different. So, let’s just get to know each other and see what conversations come from it. Some might be productive, some might be nothing more than small talk or frustrated rants, but that doesn’t matter.What matters is that you come here and you talk about what you are ready to talk about. That’s how you find yourself on a healing path that you want to be on, not the path others want to force you down.”
I stared at her, my whole self still. Something about her words stung me, invisible needles poking into my throat. My last psycho-physician hadn’t been like this, she had been insistent that we get to the root of the problem. Of course, she’d started as my physician the moment I had been admitted to the hospital, and at that point what else was there to talk about?
Yet Vanessa just sat there, calm and collected, waiting for me to say whatever I wanted. Maybe she found it useful, or maybe she was just trying to get me to trust her. Either way, I kept my guard up but relaxed my shoulders a bit. I could do this, especially if there was no pressure to talk about what happened.
“So,” she picked her stilo back up, tapping it against the back of her hand. “How’s your new Alpha?”
I grunted. “Cocky.”
She laughed. “He seems to have made a strong impression.”
“That’s one way to put it.” My insides squirmed, my clavicle warming. “His name’s Nolan, and he walked in like he didn’t have a care in the world, acting like we should just hand over control to him.”
I didn’t mention that I had met him previously and had found him attractive before I knew exactly who he was. That was a fact that didn’t need to be admitted out loud.
“And you don’t like handing over control?”
“If you hadn’t already guessed, I don’t do well with strangers.” My fingers tapped along my throat. “On top of that, I’ve been a part of Seathra’s Faction since I was a Delta. I worked my way up through the ranks and earned the trust of everyone there. And this guy thinks he can just strut in and be handed it like a welcome gift? That’s not how it works.”
“Control seems important to you.”
My jaw tightened. I wasn’t sure how we got here, but somehow we did. “Control is how I keep my sanity in check. It’s how I keep myself safe.”
“From?”
“Myself.” I bit my bottom lip. “Others around me. Anyone who wants to change me.”
“So, what’s something that you could do to take a little control back?” she asked. “Doesn’t matter how small, just the first thing that comes to mind.”
“Start growing my hair out again. Maybe dye it.” I had no idea why that was the first thing to come to mind, but memories of Eden drunk at the bar somehow reminded me. “They made me cut it when I was a patient here and the color faded quickly. Maybe if I put it back, I’ll feel like myself again.”
“Maybe,” Vanessa said. “Was that a large part of your identity?”
I shrugged. “I never thought so, I just enjoyed having darker hair.”
“Then why would it make you feel like yourself again?” My shoulders deflated at her words, no answer coming to mind, but she continued, “If you want to dye your hair because it makes you happy, then do it. Give yourself a reason to take time and care for yourself even if it’s in a little way like changing your hair color.”
“But?” I coaxed, sensing there was more.
“You just admitted that before everything happened, your hair wasn’t a big part of your identity, it was just something you did for fun.” She scribbled something in her book. “Going back to that, it might not bring the normalcy you want it to. It could even have the opposite effect.”
My chest tightened. “Maybe that’s why I always find an excuse not to do it.”
I had always said I was too busy or that it wasn’t important, but she made a good point. Why did I want to look like that broken girl again?
She leaned forward. “I’m not telling you to do it or not. But I suggest you take some time to think about what making that change actually means to you. Is it a step forward or back? Only you will be able to answer that.”
“Um…” My brows crinkled, words jumbling in my mind unable to form coherent thoughts.
