Session 33

Chapter fifty seven

“I should’ve kissed her,” I said as I slouched back in the therapist’s leather chair. “I should’ve kissed her and fucked the shit out of her, got her pregnant again. She would've let me. She was looking at me like she did in the beginning. Why the fuck is she so fucking sexy all the time? I wanted to. I really wanted to,” I ranted.

Dr. Bailey was sitting across from me with a raised eyebrow, but he didn’t say anything right away. He had that patient look on his face, like he was waiting for me to keep going, waiting to dig into my shit like he always did if I didn’t say the right thing.

I shrugged, feeling a little of the residual anger I was holding in start to rise up again. “But I didn’t. Because I know her. She’d probably say some dumb shit afterward, like it was a mistake or we couldn’t be together because of old fella.” I paused, shaking my head. “And then I would’ve lost it and done some stupid shit. Then all this money I’ve been throwing at you would be wasted because I snapped and probably would have choked her ass a little. Plus, I wasn’t letting her use me for some dick because she was scared from sitting on the bridge and feeling all vulnerable and shit.”

Dr. Bailey’s face twitched, and I could tell he wanted to laugh but was holding it in. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “You know what, Cassius? I’m proud of you. You recognized the situation and left. That shows growth. You’re not reacting impulsively like you used to. That’s real progress.”

I shifted in my seat, scratching the back of my neck. His words didn’t make me feel any better, though. If anything, it pissed me off more because it felt like some kind of weird accomplishment to not freak out just because the world didn’t rotate my way. I could recognize how bad I was now. “Yeah, thank you or whatever,” I muttered.

Dr. Bailey leaned forward a bit, crossing his legs. “So, you’re ready to move on?”

I thought about it for a beat, let the question sit with me. My feelings for Angel hadn’t changed, but I also knew I couldn’t keep living like I was. “I still love the fuck outta Angel, but I ain’t gon’ keep hurting my own damn feelings, you know? I’m done with that. She can keep making her mistakes with the old man. That’s on her. I’m going to move on, start dating seriously. Angel taught me a lot. And even Ciara, too. I learned I’m more stable with one woman. In a relationship. I drink less. Party less. I need stability. It keeps me from spiraling, and I can’t keep leaning on Jonas and Naomi—and even Silas got a girl now.” I needed that grounding. Angel had given me that, but now she was someone else’s. And as much as it killed me, I had to let her go. Or at least try.

Bailey nodded, his eyes locking onto mine. “That’s good to hear. Recognizing what you need is a big part of growth. Remember that relationships aren’t just about what they can do for you. You need to reciprocate, think about their feelings. Make sure it’s balanced.”

I let his words sink in. He was right.

Bailey talked some more, throwing in his usual affirmations and encouraging bullshit. This was the part I didn’t think I needed. My mind was already drifting.

When the session ended, I got up, feeling like I always did after these talks—like I was better, but not fixed. Maybe I’d never be fixed. Maybe that was the point. I was working on it still. I wanted it so Ekon never had to pay to talk to anybody because I fucked him up.

I walked out to my car, pulling out my phone. I pulled up Angel’s number. I hadn’t changed the name on it. It still said Wife, even though she hadn’t been mine for a long time. I really thought we’d get back together.

But now?

Without thinking too hard about it, I tapped on it and changed the name from Wife to Angel. Just her name. Nothing more.

I sat back in the driver’s seat, staring at the screen for a second longer. It was a small thing, but it felt like a step forward. Like the start of something new. Or maybe just the end of something that had been dead for a while.

I took a deep breath, threw my phone on the passenger seat. Maybe what I was doing to cope wasn’t enough yet, but it was something.