Compulsive (Liar Duet Book 1): A Forbidden Romance

Book 1: Liar

by Lia Fairchild

Genres: contemporary romance; forbidden romance; Angst Drama

Synopsis

"So amazingly written and absolutely heartbreaking." Maryse's Book Blog

 

Tattered hearts. Forbidden love. Destined souls.

Gray is a woman struggling with a tragic past, trying to survive everyday life the only way she knows how. When the secrets of her past lead her to Dr. Daniel Harrison, Gray is sure he is the only one who can help her. Daniel is equally certain he can ease her pain but at what cost? It will take everything in him to resist the attraction to her, but the pull is stronger than anything he's ever known, especially when he discovers that he needs her as much as she needs him.
 
Find both books in the Liar "duet" here on Amazon.

(This book is intended for 18+ Only)

Release date: May 12, 2015

Print pages: 301

Sample

 CHAPTER 1

The ridges on the stark white ceiling blurred from my intense stare as I listened to the steady, even breaths coming from the body next to me. He wasn’t a bad guy. Just an idiot. Maybe even married for all I knew. The clock read four twenty-three. That wouldn’t work for me. I waited for a nice round even number. Something that felt right. I held my phone with the message typed out: I need you. I keyed in the number, and when the clock hit four thirty, I hit Send.

At ten before five AM, I eased my body out of the bed the way a mother slips from her sleeping child, hoping not to rouse her angel. He stirred a moment and turned on his side, his arm involuntarily reaching for me.

“Sky,” he murmured with his eyes closed. His dark buzz-cut hair was sprinkled with gray flecks, and a small rectangular scar bordered the hairline on the right side of his face. I hadn’t noticed that the night before, or I would have asked him. Now my curiosity had me pausing, conjuring up various scenarios for its origin. Whatever the cause would forever remain a mystery. With a gentle hold around his wrist, I lifted his hand and rested it on the comforter. His eyes flitted open and closed. Frozen, I waited to see if he’d wake. I didn’t worry about coming up with a story. It always came.

Still sitting on the edge of the bed, I reached over to an adjacent chair to snag my black silk shirt. When I pulled it over my head and then glanced down, two light blue eyes met mine.

“Hey, you,” he whispered. His soft, sweet smile almost made a dent, but I pulled my hand away.

“I’ve got to run.”

Surprise and confusion colored his face. “What time is it?”

“Around five. I’ve got early rounds.”

He seemed satisfied with my excuse and looked thoughtful. “Ah, yes, Dr. Phillips. Time to save lives.”

I gave him a nod and a tight smile just before a knock at the door sounded. I rose from the bed to pull on my skirt and slip my feet into my heels.

He sat up watching me closely like a cat that’d dart out of an open door. “Who could that be at this time?” he said.

“My ride,” I threw over my shoulder. I scooped up my purse from the dresser on the way out, catching his face in the mirror. They always had that same look the next day. Or perhaps I was the one who saw things differently.

I heard him jump out of bed and scramble for his pants as I made my way to the living room, picking up my pace. “Sky, wait.”

When I reached the door, he came in and leaned against the couch, folding his arms. “I could have driven you home.”

“It’s okay,” I said, pulling the door open.

Nathan stood in the doorway, hands stretched out to the jams on each side, his brown hair ragged from being dragged from the comfort of his bed. He shot me that look that said, you owe me and then let one hand fall and sweep to the side as if making a path for royalty.

“Wait,” a voice came from behind me. “Who’s this guy?”

Nathan took a step into the doorway. “Oh, hey, man.”

“John, this is my cousin, Nathan,” I said.

Unfortunately, Nathan had spoken at the same time I did and said, “I’m her neighbor.”

John walked over to the two of us, eyes darting between me and my partner in crime. “Well, which is it?”

Nathan and I exchanged looks, and I opened my mouth to speak.

John held up his hand. “No. Let me guess,” he said in a sarcastic tone. “He’s your cousin who lives next door.”

I half-shrugged while looking him dead in the eye. “I really should get going.” A split second later, I plastered on a smile. “I’ll call you.”

“You haven’t given me much choice,” he said to my back as I sidled past Nathan. “I don’t even have your number.”

I’d be willing to bet John wouldn’t be holding his breath.

In the car, we drove in easy silence with the windows down. The sky was still a hazy blue melding to light. My shoulder length, dark brown hair fought and tangled around my face as I stared out the window. I watched the dawn covered streets half-filled with commuters and the deprived waiting for jobs or wandering about. I sucked the crisp, clean air into my lungs, feeling cleansed and thankful our mutual agreement didn’t require explanation. That didn’t mean we never gave them.

At the stoplight, I gazed through a glass window at a father and son sitting at a table in a diner. The boy, possibly six or seven with soulful eyes, stared back at me. He smiled and brought a hand slowly to his lips as if kissing it. Then, he reached up two fingers and looked toward the sky. I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut. When I opened them, he was gone; the booth was empty. The way my heart felt as it sank inside my chest pounding with immense force. Nathan stroked the back of my head. I turned and met his smile as his hand ran down my shoulder to my hand, interlacing our fingers. He and I didn’t need words to comfort each other.

My phone sounded in my purse as we pulled into a gas station. I released his hand to retrieve a text from Dr. Wallace that I’d missed our appointment yesterday. Strike three. Only if she documented it. I contemplated whether it would be worth giving her a story, considering she knew my history. I started typing: Sorry, Alyssa was stranded again. Had to… Backspace all the way. I had an urgent appointment with… Backspace. Close application. Fuck! She wouldn’t believe me, and lies annoyed her. I had no choice. A personal visit accompanied with begging and bribery was the best solution. I thought about her reaction if I told her I’d given John my middle name, Sky, instead of making one up. Was I losing my edge? I had enjoyed being the privileged doctor for a night.

Back at my apartment, Nathan followed me up the walkway. At the top of the stairs, Alyssa sat outside her door feeding a stray cat.

“Don’t let Cruella see you doing that in here,” I said, bending over to scratch the top of the cat’s head.

“No shit,” Alyssa said. Her ingenuous eyes stayed glued to the little tabby. “She won’t be up for hours.”

“Where’s your mom?” Nathan asked.

“Like I know that.” She stood and yanked up her tight skinny jeans. “Got any cash? I could go grab us some donuts.” She smiled and held out her hand like it was a done deal. I wasn’t the only damsel Nathan would rescue on occasion.

He dug into his jeans pocket and pulled out two crumpled bills. “Sorry, I only have six bucks.” He rolled coffee-colored eyes in my direction. “I left in such a hurry I forgot my wallet.”

Alyssa snatched the cash from his hand. “No biggie.” She shoved the money into her back pocket and then picked up the kitten, caressing her cheek against its fur. “Thanks. What do you guys want?”

“We’re good,” I said, pulling my keys from my purse. “Nathan’s on a diet.” I gave her a squinty smile.

Alyssa shrugged and headed down the stairs.

I tossed my things onto the couch and then collapsed next to them. My feet pushed at each heel until they thumped onto the carpet. Had I slept at all last night? Distinguishing between sleep and awake was not always easy for me, especially in a strange bed. Nathan fell in place next to me, and I noted we still hadn’t said a word to each other. He put his arm around me and I leaned into him, resting my head on his comforting shoulder. I played with the buttons on his shirt for a second and then said, “I’m sorry.”

“I know,” he said.

 

* * *

I must have dozed off, because my eyes popped open at sounds and smells coming from the kitchen. I turned to find Nathan at the stove, his back to me. I stared at his broad shoulders and examined how his back muscles pressed tightly inside his white T-shirt and his half-sleeve tattoo showed on his left arm. For a moment, an image flashed in my mind of me grasping that shirt in my eager fists and pulling it over his head. I sighed, closed my eyes, and then took a deep breath, drawing in the scent of bacon. Yes, better to focus on food.

When I opened my eyes, he turned toward the sink, grabbing my gaze with his. “Hey, gorgeous. You hungry?” he asked with an innocent grin.

“Always.”

“Then you better get your ass over here and make something. This is all mine.”

I grinned and scoffed. “So, you can cook for hundreds of people every day, but not me?”

He kept his head down as he rinsed a glass bowl in the sink. “Well, they do pay me and…I think I’ve done enough for you today.” Those dark eyes peeked up at me, testing my reaction.

I reached for my phone, aimlessly scrolling without paying attention to him. I reread the last text I got from Evyn, asking me how things were going with Dr. Wallace. Another person in my life who amazingly hadn’t given up on me…yet. I went to my pictures and clicked on camera roll. I thought of the boy in the window and started scrolling to the top of the list until I found what I was looking for. I brushed my finger across Noah’s smiling face before clicking it off. When nothing but silence came from Nathan, I rose from the couch and went to sit at the bar. “I’m really getting off that easy?”

“What would be the point of asking?” he said as he pulled plates from the cupboard.

He knew I couldn’t stand when he turned things around on me like that. “Last night wasn’t a plan, you know? Let’s call it…a setback.”

He grabbed the pan from the stove and gracefully shifted a pile of eggs onto each plate. “Yep.”

I’d always found watching his cooking to be sexy and artistic, but today my irritation took over. “You’re an ass,” I said, taking the plate from his hand and adding a couple of strips of bacon.

Nathan ran a hand through his wavy dark hair in frustration. “Fine…Did you even like the guy?”

“Sure.” I smiled. “He’s highly intelligent. A corporate lawyer or something.”

Nathan’s head fell to his chest. He shook it a couple of times and then sighed. I wasn’t trying to annoy him; it was just how things worked out for us sometimes.

“Fine,” I said before picking up my fork. “I couldn’t hear a damn word he said over that annoying music they were playing, but I did like how he kept staring at my legs.” I scooped a bit of eggs into my mouth and chewed while Nathan regarded whether or not this answer was the truth. If anyone could tell that from me it was him. And sometimes I wanted someone to know about me.

“Jeez, Gray. You’re the only woman I know who gets off on pervs ogling her body.”

“He wasn’t a perv.” I stared straight ahead, avoiding the angry eyes that seared into my skin. His reactions seemed to be getting worse. It wasn’t like I never had to deal with this crap from him.

He came around to sit next to me, but kept his head forward. “Why didn’t you have your car?”

“Lost it in a poker game,” I said, but his sigh pushed another attempt from me. “I…uh…went out with Becca and Barb.” I flinched before I finished the sentence. Nathan couldn’t stand my twin aunts. They took the matching thing to a whole new level when they each left their cheating husbands, filed for divorce, and moved in together. Becca is still going through hers.

“Wow, you must have been desperate. Seriously?” He turned his body and gave me a disgusted look. “Those two are like Mary Kate and Ashley after they came back from pet cemetery.”

“God, that’s dead-on.” I managed a grin. “But they’re not that bad. Besides, they helped me out, and I couldn’t say no. I was broke, and Barb had someone from her work fix my laptop.” Of course, when I went to pick it up, they had to drag me out with them. A classic case of bait and switch. They used me to lure the men over, hoping to snag another husband, and I got free apps and drinks. But ultimately those two have watched over me, helped me when I was in need, even if they were like Cinderella’s step-sisters and the fairy godmother all rolled into one.

He turned forward again and dug aggressively into his eggs. Nathan had that stereotypical temper of a head chef, but he never displayed it at work, and thankfully kept it under control around me. He’d had his share of trips to the principal’s office and wasn’t a stranger to a bar fight. But since we’d known each other, he’d only had a few setbacks. “You know I hate it when you’re not being safe.”

“Hey, we used protection.” I smirked, trying to win his mood back. I tilted my head in his direction only to find the opposite expression on his face.

His fork clanked onto his plate. “You know what I meant.” He kicked his chair back, getting up at the same time. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Gray.” He wandered toward the door.

I followed behind him. “Hey, wait. Don’t go.” My blood started to heat at the thought of him trying to leave, holding his presence hostage for my behavior. That wasn’t what we did.

He halted in his tracks, still facing the door. I had no idea what words he’d say when he turned around. Four years of this shit between us. If we were too broken to have real relationships with other people, how could we possibly have thought we could maintain one between us? No matter what this was. Yet through it all, Nathan and I had always clung to each other like life preservers in a rough sea.

He turned halfway around and shot me a sad, helpless look. “Have you ever heard the word ‘enabler’?”

My gut wrenched in a too familiar way. “So, that’s what you are to me?” I said, growing angry as I spoke.

“That’s what we both are, Gray. Any shrink could tell you that.”

“What are you saying exactly?”

He turned the rest of the way around, reached out and grabbed my hand, softening my temper. “I’m saying that I can’t watch you do this to yourself any longer.”

“And your life is so freaking normal?” I pulled my hand from his, looking away toward the window. “It’s no picnic for me either.” Though if I was being honest, this had been becoming more one-sided lately. Nathan’s family had all but disappeared into background noise, and the lingering effects had been miniscule.

Hands grasped my shoulders, shaking me and my attention back to him, our eyes falling into a desperate connection. “Maybe we’re just…bad for each other.”

Tears welled in my eyes, my heart ached, and my chin dropped. He gripped me tighter, knowing how I hated to be seen like that, knowing I’d pull away, try to hide. I wanted to tell him we weren’t bad for each other, or at least he wasn’t for me. I wanted to say that without him in my life I wouldn’t survive. But I couldn’t utter a single word.

“I’m sorry,” he said. He released one hand and cupped the back of my head, pulling it into his chest. “We’ve been friends,” he whispered. “We’ve been…whatever the hell this is.” He paused. “But there’s one thing we haven’t been.”

My head started tiny involuntary shakes into his chest before his other arm came around to my back. He laid his palm flat and gentle and then rubbed up and down. “Don’t shake your head. Don’t start thinking like that. We could try. I’m willing to try if you are.”

I curled my lips under my teeth to stop myself from spitting out a response. To stop before a lie hurt him even more. Even if I owned the truth, words still failed to come out.

My silence told him I was fighting tears. “I mean, who knows, we could end up being like one of those sitcom couples, laughing and playing stupid tricks on each other.” His futile attempts to make me laugh still touched me. “Gray,” he said, grabbing my face and pulling it up to him. “Say something.”

“We…can’t. I…can’t.”

Defeated, his eyes closed; his hands fell to his sides. “Right.”

He turned and reached for the door, pulling the handle.

“Wait,” I said, stopping him. “What about us now? I mean…that’s it. We’re alone now?” Panic rose in my chest.

“I’ll never leave you alone, Gray. You can count on that.”

~ ~ ~

CHAPTER 2

The second nameplate on the door read, Dr. Sylvia Ashburn-Wallace, LMFT, PsyD. When we first met three months ago, I joked that she had more names than I did. A little mythomania humor to break the ice. But she hadn’t even cracked a smile. I’d also hoped it would make her believe I was open to this little charade that Evyn “assigned” to me. The first step is admitting you have a problem.

So, why was I there…exactly? In a crazy jacked-up nutshell… I was a liar.

I know what you’re thinking. We’re all fucking liars. But I’m not talking about the lie you tell your Aunt Helen when she gives you that crappy sweater for your birthday. Or even the lie you tell yourself when you’re sleeping with someone for all the wrong reasons. I’m talking about bold-faced lies that spilled from my lips as easy as the breath from my lungs. Lies that ruined people, lies that protected people, lies for the hell of it. I ate, slept, and drank lies. I bathed in deceit. At one point in my life, I might not have recognized the truth if it bent me over and slapped me on the ass. And sometimes the chaos that was my life got me in a whole hell of a lot of trouble.

The pros will tell you that compulsive lying disorder is not actually a documented psychiatric disorder. Supposedly, it’s a symptom of some other underlying personality disorder, which for me shall remain nameless. Maybe I was just a crazy bitch. Dr. Wallace said many times a traumatic experience or childhood neglect could cause compulsive lying to develop early on and become a habit. I was never on a milk carton. Didn’t end up at the police station eating an ice cream cone while waiting for my parents. But I’d had my share of traumatic experiences. Some I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

I’d pressed the damn light under her name outside the lobby door ten minutes earlier, and I was still sitting in the meat locker, shivering. The other four lights were off in the empty waiting room. That pissed me off about the place. You never knew what was going on or who hid behind closed doors, so by the time it was your turn, you were already in a foul mood. What an inventive way for shrinks to create return business.

The door pushed open, and a Clark Kent looking guy stepped out holding a screwdriver. He gave me a nod as he walked by and over to a box on the wall. He used the screwdriver to jimmy the box open. “Are you cold?” he asked, not turning around.

Yeah, it was like The Shining in there. “No…I’m fine.”

“Then why were you rubbing your arm?”

“Tetanus shot,” I said, reaching for my arm again. “Still a little sore.”

He looked over his shoulder at me, and one corner of his mouth turned up. He wasn’t bad looking. I pictured him pulling his shirt open to reveal a giant “S” and bulging muscles. “Well,” he said, turning back to the box. “The owner of this building keeps this locked, so we won’t mess with the temperature.”

“It’s nice you respect their wishes.”

“They don’t realize they’re actually wasting money. Plus, we get a lot of complaints about the cold and well…”

“You wouldn’t want to have to slap a straitjacket on one of these crazies.”

“I didn’t say that. We want the people who visit this office to be as comfortable and relaxed as possible.” He closed the box and headed back to the door. He stopped when he saw the light. “You’re a patient of Dr. Wallace?”

“No…but I do need to see her.” I stood and walked toward him, drawing his attention to me. His gaze landed on the top button of my snug black top. In my heels, he still had a good four inches on me, so I guessed him to be around six-two. “Is she in?” I asked before his gaze bounced up to mine and then down to the screwdriver in his hand.

“I’m sorry. She’s not. Did you have an appointment?”

Then, he looked up at me with a pair of mesmerizing midnight blue eyes that made my throat dry up. I swallowed and upgraded him from not bad looking to sort of gorgeous. “I don’t… but it’s kind of important.”

“Do you have the number to her service?”

“I…” I glanced down to the phone in my hand. “My battery’s dead,” I said, tucking it into my back pocket before he could see it.

He narrowed his eyes at me, but he didn’t know quite who he was dealing with. I returned the same look back to him.

“All right,” he said, holding back a grin. “Why don’t you come back to my office, and you can use my phone.”

“Or, could I leave a note on her door?” I guessed innocent doe eyes didn’t work on therapists, but mine instinctively came out when I wanted something. “I’d really like her to know that I was here.” Otherwise Dr. Buzzkill wouldn’t believe me. One of the many downsides to people knowing you’re a liar.

He pulled the door wide and stood, waiting for me to pass through.

“I really appreciate this, Mr..?” I said before moving.

“Dr.” He nodded. “Dr. Harrison.”

I walked toward him, and then just for the hell of it, I glanced up and gave him a sexy smile. “Thank you, Dr. Harrison.” I wanted to see if it would be easy to rattle Clark Kent’s cage.

His response was surprisingly impressive. His eyes challenged mine as if to say nice try, and then he gestured to the open doorway, to which I immediately obliged. I should have known these shrinks were always in character.

I stopped at the end of the hallway, so he could lead me to his office. As he unlocked his door, I took the opportunity to check out his backside. I really did need psychiatric help. Or, maybe I simply wanted this hot Superman to rescue me. His khaki pants were snug enough for me to see a pleasant shape beneath the material. He topped it with a dark blue casual polo shirt that told me he didn’t just sit on his ass listening to people’s problems. I briefly wondered what he did to build up that chest.

The sight of his office as he swung the door open pulled me from my virtual sexcapdes. I was starting to realize I was getting jipped with Dr. Wallace, whose office was like sitting in your grandma’s living room—knitted blanket over small tweed sofa, wooden rocking chair where she sat across from me, and the constant smell of an air plug-in that could only be described as a twenty-year-old bottle of cheap perfume.

He left the door open, possibly because I wasn’t a patient. “Wow, nice place you have here, Doc,” I said, stepping into the spacious room. The first thing I noted were the two large, floor-to-ceiling windows at the back behind one of two burgundy sofas placed in an L shape. Across from each sofa were two black vinyl chairs and in the middle of the four pieces sat a decent looking throw rug. This was more of a set-up for an intimate gathering than for lunatics to pour their hearts out.

He ignored my comment and headed toward a lamp, which stood on a side table next to one of the sofas. “One moment.” He switched it on even though the sun hadn’t set yet and was still providing light to the room. Then, he strode over to the far corner where a small oak desk sat, dwarfed by a huge bookshelf. I assumed he sought a pad and paper as he opened a drawer, but I no longer cared. I moved to the window and gazed outside to the tall leafy trees billowing against the summer breeze.

“Uh, miss…” I heard him say behind me. The place was more appealing than my apartment, and I was in no hurry to leave. I took my time taking in the view before he spoke again. “I’m sorry…I didn’t get your name.”

“Sky,” I said before I had a chance to think. Damn. Something he can easily check with Dr. Wallace. I turned and walked over to his desk. “Um…Gray.”

He’d set a pad and pen next to a cordless phone at the edge of his desk. The rest of the workspace was tidy, spotless, and borderline OCD. Exactly how I would have arranged it. I broke into a wide grin, holding back a chuckle when I noticed a pair of black plastic glasses sitting next to his cell phone. It was all I could do not to call Clark out about his secret identity.

“Is there something you find amusing, Miss Gray?”

“It’s just Gray. Sorry. And…” I started to speak again when the already open door pushed out farther.

Right when things were getting interesting, Dr. Downer walked in. I didn’t even get to try out his couch.

“Gray, I thought I heard your voice in here.” Dr. Wallace did not sport her usual seventies retro business attire. I was surprised to find her in jeans and an Ole Miss sweatshirt.

Dr. Harrison came from around his desk. “Perfect. Hello, Dr. Wallace. Miss, uh…Gray was just going to leave you a message.”

He hobbled over my name and spoke in a much quicker tone than he had been with me.

“Hello, Dr. Wallace,” I said. I nodded, clasped my hands together, and stretched my lips, showing her my usual reticent demeanor. Dr. Harrison and I exchanged curious glances as we both seemed to slink into other people. Did Dr. Wallace have that effect on everyone, or did Clark have his own reasons for kowtowing to her?

“This seems to be good timing all around. I need to speak with you, Miss Donovan.” She grabbed the door handle as she eyed me in a way I couldn’t read. Then, she nodded at Dr. Harrison. “I’ll speak to you a bit later. There are some things we should discuss.”

Dr. Harrison trailed me to the door. “Of course. I should be here for about another hour.”

My comfort level went from semi-serene to ass-cringing as soon as I entered Dr. Wallace’s office. I made a beeline for my usual spot, at the end of the sofa that was pressed against the corner of the wall, even though this was not an official session. As soon as my butt hit the cushions, I found her behind her desk, lifting a box to the floor next to a smaller one. She grabbed a stack of papers and a pen before heading over to join me.

“Redecorating?” I said when she sat. I gestured to the boxes.

“If you hadn’t missed our last appointment, you’d know what this was about.” Her words were matter-of-fact.

I straightened in my seat, drumming up some courage. “Look, I know what this means, but…”

“Let me just stop you right there.” She held a firm palm up. “I don’t have time for this…nor do I care, frankly.”

“But, Dr. Wallace. You know what will happen to me. You know I’ll get fired.”

“You were aware of this fact as well, Gray.”

“Of course. Which is why I’d never have missed if it wasn’t for…”

“I’m done, Gray. It doesn’t matter anyway.” She leaned forward, handing me a sheet of paper.

I glanced at it to find a list of names and contact information. “I don’t understand.”

“My mother has Alzheimer’s. She lives in Oxford and has had a major setback. I can’t in good conscious stick her in a home. So, I’m moving my practice back to help with her needs.”

“Oh…I’m so sorry.” Suddenly, I saw Dr. Wallace in a whole new light. I’d like to think if I still had my mother I’d do the same, but it was quite a sacrifice.

“Thank you.”

“But…I still don’t understand. What are these names? What happens now that I’ve failed to comply?”

“Looks like you’re going to get a stay of execution.” She rose from her chair, leaving me with my mouth hung open.

Was I off the hook? I should have been ecstatic at the prospect. Instead, my head spun. This woman annoyed the hell out of me. I’d done nothing but fight this process the whole way. Then, why was my stomach becoming more knotted with every second? Evyn forced this on me, accused me of something I didn’t even do. She threatened to fire me if I didn’t get help and do this. Was it simply the separation anxiety I’ve struggled with or a belief that I needed help?

“Gray.” Dr. Wallace’s voice pulled me from my downward spiral. “I’ve already spoken with Evyn Langstrom and let her know that another therapist will be taking over your case.”

“What?” I hadn’t seen that coming.

“I’m sorry, Gray. I know how difficult this will be, but you didn’t leave me much choice. I either report that you’d failed to comply, leaving me to complete a lengthy exit process and summary to your employer, or I pass you off to another therapist who will begin anew with you.” She picked up the trash and swept a few loose papers and other items into the can. “I suggest you take this opportunity seriously this time.”

I watched her move a wet wipe around the surface of her desk and scrub vigorously at a spot. Yep, she had checked out on me, and I was a mere detail to tick off her list. Who could blame her? I got up from the couch, holding the paper and walked over to her. “So, my time starts over? Another six months? I should get some sort of credit for time served.”

She tossed the wipe into the trash and folded her arms. “We both know you didn’t like me.”

I averted my gaze down to the paper. “To be fair, I’m not going to like any of these people, either.”

She let a half-smile onto her face before pulling her indifferent expression back into place. “Think of it as a second chance. Perhaps this time you’ll open up. Figure some things out. I’m sorry you don’t have more time to digest this,” she said, walking toward the door. “But we should have had this conversation days ago. Now, I’m going to have to cut this short. I hope you understand.”

“Oh…sure.”

She held the door open for me, but I stopped just short. “I’m not sure how to start.” The first time around I’d had no choice but to see Dr. Wallace.

“I’ll touch base with you one more time before I leave. Check those names and make sure they’re on your plan before you make a decision. They’re all people I trust.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wallace,” I said, stunned, staring at the names in confusion. I turned to leave, but stopped once again. “Uh…I don’t see Dr. Harrison on this list.”

Her face turned to something I couldn’t read. Annoyed possibly. She was in a hurry, but my life hung in the balance. “This includes doctors I felt would be best for you, but also those who were willing to take you on.”

“Dr. Harrison said no?”

“There are plenty of choices for you on that list, Gray. Take some time to look it over, and call me if you have questions.”

When she closed the door behind me, I stalled in the hallway, staring at Dr. Harrison’s closed door. Had I been too crazy for him? Or, was it that I wasn’t classy enough to sit in his sophisticated shrink suite? I strode to his door and raised my fist to knock. Who was I kidding?

Back at my car, I tossed the paper onto the floor and climbed inside. It didn’t matter if Freud made that list. I wasn’t going to talk to any of them. She should have made it easy and picked someone. But I had felt…comfortable with Dr. Harrison. Something about him set me at ease. Maybe in time I’d be able to…

I flicked on the radio. None of that mattered, because he wasn’t on the list, and I was too chicken shit to knock on his door and ask why.