Chapter 25 #2
Dr. Lin's was waiting in her usual chair in her office when I came in, a mug of tea balanced on the armrest and her notebook already open on her lap. When she saw me, her expression softened in a way that made me want to bolt.
“Soren,” she said. “I'm glad you're here.”
“Yeah, well. Rook wouldn't let me skip.”
“You want me to come in, or you want me to wait?” Rook said from behind me.
I looked at Dr. Lin, then back at Rook. “Can you—would you come in for a few minutes? Just at the end, maybe?”
“Yeah. Of course.”
He squeezed my shoulder once, then headed back down the hallway to the waiting room. I watched him go, then forced myself to step inside and close the door behind me.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Lin asked once I'd settled into my usual chair.
“Like I got hit by a truck, backed over a few times, and then someone made me fill out forms about it.”
She smiled faintly. “That sounds about right. You've had a hard few days.”
“That's one way to put it.”
“How was the hospital follow-up?”
“Fine. The doctor asked a lot of questions I didn't want to answer.”
“But you answered them anyway.”
“Yeah.”
“That took courage.”
I shrugged, uncomfortable with the praise. “It took Rook staring at me like a disappointed dad. Same thing, really.”
“Is he taking good care of you?”
The question made my throat tight. “Too good. He's been hovering like I'm gonna shatter if he looks away. It's kind of ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous how?”
“Like—he made me breakfast this morning and then watched me eat it like he was afraid I'd smuggle the eggs into my pockets when he wasn't looking. And he keeps asking if I'm okay every five minutes, which would be annoying except I know he's doing it because he's terrified I'm gonna do it again.”
“Are you going to do it again?”
The bluntness of the question caught me off guard. “I don't know. I don't want to. But I also didn't want to the first time, and I still did it, so my track record isn't great.”
Dr. Lin nodded, making a note. “Let's talk about what led up to that night. What was happening in the hours before you made the decision to take the pills?”
I stared at the rug and traced the pattern with my eyes. “A lot of things came at once. My parents. A legal situation with my youngest sister. And something personal that I thought I'd already lost before I even had a real chance at it.”
Dr. Lin waited, pen resting against the notepad.
“I just — ran out of room,” I said. “That's the only way I know how to describe it. There wasn't any space left to put any of it.”
“That's a massive stressor,” Dr. Lin said gently. “What else was happening that night?”
“Rook and I had—we'd gotten close again. Really close. And I thought maybe we had a chance at fixing what we'd broken all those years ago. But then he pulled back and told me it was a mistake. That what we'd done was a mistake.”
“What did you do?”
“Slept together. In Montreal, after a game. And it was—” My voice cracked.
“It was everything I'd been wanting for thirteen years.
And then the next morning he looked at me like he regretted all of it, and I knew I'd ruined it again.
Knew I'd pushed too hard, wanted too much, been too much chaos for him to handle.”
Dr. Lin was quiet for a moment. “So you were dealing with the threat of losing your sister, the financial stress of a custody battle you couldn't afford to fight, and what felt like rejection from someone you cared deeply about. All at the same time.”
“Yeah.”
“That's not spiraling for no reason, Soren. That's being hit by multiple catastrophic stressors at once while you're already running on empty.”
I had to swallow hard before I could answer.
“I kept thinking about how much easier it would be if I just—stopped.
If I didn't have to figure out how to fight my parents or how to fix things with Rook or how to keep pretending I had any idea what I was doing.
I didn't have anything left in me. No fight, no hope, no energy to keep going.”
“So you took the pills.”
“Yeah. I took the pills and drank enough to make sure they'd work, and then I lay down on my bed and waited to stop feeling everything.”
Dr. Lin was quiet for a moment, and I could feel her processing what I'd just said. When she spoke again, her voice was careful. “And Rowan—where are things with him now? You said he told you what happened between you was a mistake. Has that changed?”
I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding. “Yeah. It changed. He’s the one who found me and we talked after that. Figured things out.”
“How did that feel?”
“Confusing as hell,” I admitted. “Because part of me wanted to tell him to fuck off for putting me through that, and part of me was just—relieved. That he didn't actually hate me. That I hadn't destroyed everything by wanting him too much.”
“Do you think his words contributed to your attempt?”
“Yeah. I mean, the custody thing was the main trigger, but hearing him say we were a mistake just—it confirmed everything I'd been telling myself.”
“But he came back.”
“Yeah. He came back.” My voice cracked on the words.
“How does that feel?”
“Weird. Good. Terrifying.” I dragged a hand through my hair. “I don't know how to make sense of it. He saw me at my absolute worst and he didn't run. He just stayed. And now he's taking care of me like it's the most natural thing in the world.”
“Does that scare you?”
“Of course it scares me. What if I'm making him the reason I stay alive? What if I start needing him so much that I can't function without him? That's not fair to him. He shouldn't have to be responsible for keeping me breathing.”
Dr. Lin leaned forward slightly, her expression gentle but firm. “You're right. He shouldn't be the only reason you stay alive. But Soren, he can be one of many reasons. Having people you love who make life worth living—that's not weakness. That's being human.”
“It feels like weakness.”
“I know it does. But having support and needing people are not the same as being a burden. Rowan chose to stay. He chose to be there for you. That's his decision, not something you forced on him.”
I stared at the floor, trying to let that sink in. “He keeps asking if I'm okay. Like every five minutes. It's driving me crazy, but also—I kind of love it? Which makes me feel pathetic.”
“Why does it make you feel pathetic?”
“Because I've spent thirteen years convincing myself I don't need anyone.
That I can handle everything on my own. And now I've got this man following me around making sure I eat breakfast and asking if I slept okay, and I'm realizing how much I want that.
How much I've been starving for someone to give a damn whether I'm okay.”
“That's not pathetic. That's honest.”
“Feels pathetic.”
“Soren.” Dr. Lin's voice was patient but pointed.
“You've been carrying the weight of your entire family since you were barely an adult.
You've been the person everyone else relies on, and you've done that job remarkably well.
But you can't pour from an empty cup. At some point, you need to let yourself be cared for too.”
“What if I get used to it and then it goes away?”
“What if you get used to it and it doesn't?”
I didn't have an answer for that.
“He makes me want things I stopped letting myself want,” I said quietly.
“A future. A person who gives a damn whether I make it through the day.
The idea that maybe I deserve to be happy.
And that's terrifying, because what if I'm wrong? What if I let myself believe all of that and then it falls apart anyway?”
“Then you'll survive it,” Dr. Lin said. “The same way you've survived everything else. But Soren, you can't protect yourself from pain by refusing to let anyone in. That's not safety. That's just a different kind of dying.”
I had to blink hard to keep the tears from spilling over. “I don't know how to do this. How to let him help without making him responsible for me.”
“You start by being honest. By telling him when things are hard instead of pretending you're fine.
By accepting the help he's offering without turning it into a transaction where you owe him something in return.
By trusting that he's capable of setting his own boundaries and that he'll tell you if it becomes too much.”
“And if it does become too much?”
“Then you'll deal with it together. But you can't make that decision for him by pushing him away before he has a chance to prove he's staying.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
Dr. Lin was quiet for a moment, just watching me with that steady patience she had.
“Soren, I want you to hear this clearly.
You do deserve to be happy. You deserve to be loved, and cared for, and safe.
And the fact that you're sitting here today, talking about this honestly, tells me you're starting to believe that on some level.”
“I don't know if I believe it yet. But I'm trying.”
“That's enough for now.”
We talked for a while longer about the practical pieces—medication options, safety planning, what to do when the thoughts got loud again. Dr. Lin suggested looking into AA meetings or other support groups, and I promised I'd think about it even though the idea made me want to crawl out of my skin.
Near the end of the session, I asked if Rook could come in, and Dr. Lin went to get him from the waiting room. He walked in looking nervous, like he thought he was about to get graded on his caretaking skills, and I had to fight back a smile.
“Thanks for coming in,” Dr. Lin said, gesturing to the chair next to mine. “I wanted to go over the safety plan with both of you so everyone's on the same page.”
Rook sat down, his knee brushing against mine. “Okay.”