19
When I see Ava again, I first think it’s a trick of the mind.
My mind seems to enjoy playing tricks on me lately.
A couple of days ago, she bolted out of our last therapy session. I haven’t heard from her since. This timeshedidn’t quit in anger. In fact, she said she’d see me at our next session. But her distress wasobvious.
I shouldn’t have used the roleplay technique in our session. But I could senseshewas lying aboutherencounter with the suspect, and I wanted her to confront why.
I confess, it’s been hard to rid my mind of images of Ava lately. But when I pass by the window of the downtown bar, I knowin an instantthat the silhouette that catches my eye belongs to her. Her beauty would stand out anywhere. Her silky black hair, her soft lips, her tight little body—
No.
I’m not supposed to have these thoughts. Notfor a patient.
I know I should leave. I’m supposed tobe gettingdinner with some friends from the gallery down the street this evening. But for a few seconds, I watch her. She’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt with a simple gold necklace hanging over the curve of her chest. Her chin is propped on one hand as she scrolls through her phone, sitting across from an empty chair.
When she thinks no one is watching, she lets her guard drop. The shield of toughness fadesandeverything seems softer. Sadder. More vulnerable.
I can push away the thoughts, at least for a while.
But I can’t stop my feet carrying me into the bar or her name falling from my mouth, with an air of surprise that only I know is a lie.
“Ava.”
She glances up, a twitch of shock passing over her face.
And something else—fear?
But then she’s composedherself, replying in acool, wary tone. “Dr Keller.”
Her guard is back up. A surge of frustration cuts at me. Whyam I compelled touncover each layer of this woman’s mind and soul at my will? Why do I long for her to show me?
I smile, masking my thoughts. “I was walking by and spotted you. I thought I’d say hello.”
“Are you stalking me, Doctor?” Her lips twitch upwards, but her pretty gray eyes are still icy as they steadily hold my stare. “You keep showing up when I’m not expecting you.”
I give a tight smile. “We do seem to keep circling each other. How have you been? I noticed you haven’t booked in another session yet. I hope everything is well with you.”
Her cheeks flush faintly, a hint of discomfort flickering in her eyes.
“I’m going to come to the next session, I promise. But I know things got a little out of hand at the last time. I seriously don’t know where all of that came from. The roleplay thing had some weird effect on me, and I didn’t meanany of whatI said.”
I nod, softening my tone. “The exercise was supposed to be helpful. I apologize for upsetting you. Therapy can bring out unexpected emotions sometimes, but it’s important to explore them, even if they’re uncomfortable.”
She shrugs. “I just hope you know I didn’t mean what I said about, you know… The suspect.”
“Of course.” I don’t believe her completely, but I reassure her anyway. Likesoothing a distressed animal.
“And I was exaggerating about all that ‘no social life outside of work’ stuff, too.” She waves a hand dismissively,as iftrying to convince me of her nonchalance. “I’m actually on a date right now.”
A date.
As her therapist, I should be pleased that she’staking stepsto strike a healthier balance between her work and social life.
But contrary to that, I can feel a flood of hot rageflowing through me. I feel an unfamiliar, violent tug in my chest. The swirling darkness at the back of my mind forms into words.
You let another man touch this woman, Jackson?
Kill him.
Maim him.
Carve your name into her skin so the world knows she’s yours alone. So she’ll never forget it either.
I shake the words from my brain. Jesus—I’m this woman’s therapist, not her owner.
“A date?” I glance at the conspicuously empty seat across the table from her, my eyebrows raised.
She gives an embarrassed half-laugh in response. “Well, I will be on a date if this guy ever shows up.”
“That’s good to hear, Ava.” The words feel bitter, but I force myself to say them with a smile. “I’m glad you’re taking some time away from work. I won’t disturb you any longer.Give my office a callwhen you want to schedule your next appointment.”
After she’s been on my mind so much, it feels insane to drag myself away from her when she’s right here in the fleshin front ofme. But I can’t keep indulging this growing fascination if I want to be of any help to her as a therapist. Or if I want to protect my own career.
“You can sit for a minute if you want,” she quickly says. “Mike said he’s running late.”
She frowns, biting her soft bottom lip in regret. “Sorry, that was dumb. I know therapists aren’t supposed to spend time with their patients outsideoftheir sessions.”
“I’m not allowed to date my patients. I’m allowed to sit with them for a couple minutes in a well-lit, public space.”
She laughs bashfully. “Right. Of course, Dr Keller.”
I sit down. “You know, you can call me Jackson. I told you that already.”
Her gray eyes sparkle in the candlelight. What are you hiding in there, Ava? What are you trying to stop me seeing?
“Okay, Jackson.” She smiles, as if testing how it feels. “You know, you’re not what I expected when Hawkins told me I had to go see a therapist. The first names terms, sharing personal details, the weird… hypnotist type stuff.”
“Let me guess. You were expecting an old man who smelled like mothballs.”
She laughs; the sound is clear and brightlikebirdsong. “Right. But you’re more like… sunshine.”
Warmth creeps into my veins. She thinks I’m sunshine.
But she’s looking at me like she doesn’t know how this makes her feel.
And she doesn’t know what rotted darkness I’ve cut out of me tomake sureonly the sunlight remained.
She doesn’t know the real you, Jackson.
But maybe she’d like you even more if she did.
I shake off the voice in my head, but I don’t break the spell between our gazes. “Sunshine. Is that so?”
“Yes. Bright and warm and full of life. But when you get close…”
She pauses, examining me. There’s a stab of pain. Maybe the voice in my head is right.
“It burns?” I offer.
She breaks my stare, looking down to laugh again. “Sorry. You didn’t ask for feedback.”
I smile, changing the subject. “So who’s the lucky guy?”
“Just some poor soul my sister wanted to set me up with.She says he’saniceguy, but I think shejustwants me to date anyone.”
“Ah, you’ve reached the stage of single life where family members are trying to intervene.”
“That’s when you know it’s seriously pathetic.” She laughs, then eyes me. “But you make it sound like you’re familiar with that.”
I shrug in confession. “Not my family. But Henrik, my mentor of a decade now. He likes totry,once in a while. The problem is that the only women he knows are other psychiatrists. Two shrinks in a relationship is a recipe for death by analysis.”
That’s not thefulltruth. I feel the monster coming out. Any woman who signs up to date an empathetic, respected psychiatrist isn’t one who’s interested in the dark side of me. Lust. Violence.
I watch Ava’s reaction. The real problem is that no woman I’ve ever dated has ever had a fraction of the fascination I feel for Ava.
Women come and go. But it always feels like they’re here for one part of me. I tell people I’m an open book. But it’s not true. I don’t let the demons show.
“Too bad,” she replies. “The world needs more good men in the dating market.”
“Not all women want a good man.”
She takes a sip of her white wine. “Is this turning into another therapy session? Because if I could drink during thosetoo, I think it would help.”
Her phone buzzes on the tableandshe glances down at it. “Shit, that’s my date. He says he’ll be here in two minutes.”
“I’ll get out of your way.” I rise to my feet, trying to ignore the wave of jealousy cresting in my chest. “It was good to see you, Ava. Look after yourself.”
She looks up at me. For a second, it almost looks like she wants me to stay. Or is that just another trick my mind is playing on me?
After a moment, she nods. “Of course, Jackson. See you then.”
Jackson.
My name sounds so sickeningly perfect on her lips. I want to feel it on her lips with mine, see how my name tastes when she speaks it, moans it, screams it—
When I reach the restaurant’s exit, I feel myself swerve away from the door. I don’t mean to, but it happens.
I slip into the shadows by the concealed rack of coats. A thick pillar obscures me from Ava’s view, but I canjustsee her still waiting at the table for the man I can’t help but resent.
A man walks in, his beady eyes settling on where Ava sits alone. He’s stocky andlooks like he was probably in a frat. There’s a flashy, tacky watch on his wrist. He walks over to Ava’s table, and they hug in greeting. I feel the hand of anger tighten around my chest as his fingers linger on her back.
What I’m doing right now iscompletelyunethical.
Indulging this growing fascination with a patient is unethical. Lurking in the shadows to listen in on her date is even worse. If anyone knew, if Henrik knew—
My career would go up in smoke in a second.
But I can’t make myself move a fraction of an inch.
The conversation between Ava and her date is stilted; I can pick up a bit of what they’re saying from here. But even without that, I can see the boredom clouding over Ava’s expression. So different from the sharp, fiery interest in her eyes when we talk.
But that’s because I’m her therapist, I remind myself. Her boss is paying me to listen to her.
After a few more minutes, Ava excuses herself, heading toward the restroom.
The thing about humans is that they aren’t inherently good or inherentlybad. It’s a choice. Which isexactlywhy it’s so hard to be a good person. Because it involves choosing, over and over again, the thing that is usually theharderoption.
But I choose goodness.
Which means I need to leave. I wrench myself away from the spot I’ve been standing in, stepping backouttoward the exit. From behind me, I hear Ava’s date pick up a call, his words drifting over the sound of the restaurant.
“Dude, she is so hot. Did I tell you she’s a cop? Maybe I’ll use her handcuffs on her tonight.”
My gut clenches. Ifreeze,with my hand on the door handle.
I choose goodness.Ichoosetowalk out ofthis restaurant and leave Ava behind with her life andherchoices that have nothing to do with meat all.
His voice continues. “I’m going to getherdrunk as fuck.”
My fingers clench around the handle until my knuckles are paled.
It’s roaring, rising red hot in my chest. All the feelings I push away. Anger. Hate. Jealousy. Lust.
But it feels so good to let it rise and rise.
Mike’s grunting laugh echoes after me. “Yeah, man. She’s gonna be wasted. You know drunk girls will do anything.”
His words open up a sea of black lava in my center. The world around me is growing hazy all over again.
No one touches Ava.
I can feel it. The moon is rising. Soontheeclipse will be here.
No. I try to fight it, but it’s like wrestling with a dark, vengeful god. I have no power here.
I feel myself turn away from the exit.
Back toward the table.
I’m helpless as the eclipse begins.