Chapter 14 Lily
LILY
The next morning I wake up early after a restless night's sleep, and go about cleaning up the mess I made, and I’m not just talking about the shattered mug.
I text Zack and apologize, for what I’m not sure, but it’s the only thing I can think to do, then I text my therapist and tell her I need an emergency appointment today.
Once my therapist confirms she can fit me in, I go about getting dressed, putting on more makeup than necessary to cover up the black marks beneath my tired eyes.
I know Max will be here soon, so I text him too and let him know about my plans for the day, knowing he’s busy, but he calls me almost instantly.
Apparently he has somehow already cleared his schedule, and I don’t bother arguing when he tells me he will take me like always.
I’m not surprised in the slightest that by the time I make it out of my room, Max is already there waiting. He’s on the phone barking orders, but still points to the bagel and coffee sitting on the counter. I don’t bother arguing with him, inhaling them both quietly while he finishes up his calls.
Once he’s done, he leans on the counter across from me and stares me down. “You good?” he asks, searching my stare for any hint of deception.
“Zack was here last night,” I start slowly, returning his appraisal to see if my words have any effect on him.
Which is selfish of me to care really, I mean, why should I? It’s been a year since anything happened between us and that was my choice, he could have been with a hundred people since then and it would be none of my business. So why does the thought leave a sour taste in my mouth?
“Did you two fuck again?” he asks boldly, as if the idea intrigues him more than he cares to admit, and I have to pause slightly before I shake my head.
“No, of course not, Zack wants to pretend nothing happened between us,” I scoff, taking another sip of my coffee, wishing it would erase the ache now forming in the back of my throat.
“Of course he does, god forbid he be anything less than fucking noble,” Max laughs in response, as if he expected nothing else.
“Can we go?” I snap, not interested in discussing the state of my mortifying escapades.
Max only cocks his head to the side, studying me some more, but he sighs, “Your wish is my command, as you well know, princess.”
The drive to my therapist's office is a short one, and thanks to Max sensing my mood, it’s a quiet one too.
I can’t help but wonder what he must be thinking about all of this.
Sure he’s acting unfazed, but he has to feel something, right?
It’s a thought that plagues me all the way to the waiting room, and it’s still on my mind when I finally take a seat across from my therapist.
Dr. Grace Hollis has a double degree in both psychology and psychiatry, and given my own degree in psychology, she never bullshits me or beats around the bush. I both appreciate and respect that about her, but right now as I fidget across from her, I feel a little nervous.
“I hope you didn’t demand this emergency appointment to waste more of my time and your money,” she lightly scolds, looking up from her notepad with a smile.
I refrain from rolling my eyes, as I respond, “We both know Max pays for these appointments.”
“Is he why you’re here?” she’s quick to ask, and I’d scoff if her technique wasn’t so impressive. “Did something happen between you two?”
I’m not surprised by her question, I spent months sitting across from her not saying anything, before telling her everything.
We talked about anything and everything that wasn’t Logan’s death, and that means she knows all about my secret relationship with Max, and both of our feelings for my brother.
“He’s not the problem right now, it’s Zack,” I grumble, unsure of how I am supposed to admit what I did to someone, but her kind eyes stay fixed on mine, waiting for me to elaborate.
“We got drunk and slept together on the night of Logan’s…
” I trail off before I can say the word, knowing she is fully aware of what I’m referring to.
The last time I was here she went over all the ways his anniversary would make me feel, giving me techniques to practice to help me with my grief. I guess we forgot to cover the part where I drank too much and seduced my brother.
If she’s surprised by my admission, she doesn’t show it, only makes a quick note I wish I could read, before her gaze flicks back up to meet mine. “And I’m guessing since that was three nights ago, that things aren’t good between you now?”
I shrug. “Zack wants to go back to normal and pretend it never happened.”
“But you won’t?” she summarizes, but I’m already shaking my head.
“I can’t, not with him. I know it’s selfish and childish, but I’ve already lost so much, I can’t lose another part of me.”
She nods in understanding, and we talk back and forth for almost the full hour, and it’s probably the most vocal I have ever been. She makes constant notes, offering comments where she sees fit, and it’s only when our time is almost up that I start to feel better.
“I know it may not feel like it, but you are making progress,” she tells me firmly, and before I can scoff she pushes on. “You’ve come a long way since our first meeting, and you should be proud of that, and you should also be proud of knowing what you want, it takes guts for anyone to admit that.”
“And what if what I want, I know I will never have?” I voice the question I haven’t dared to ask out loud until now, and her eyes soften.
“Only you can stand in the way of your own happiness, Lily, whatever relationship you pursue. Whether it be with Zack, or Max, both of them, or someone else entirely, can only be decided by you.”
Her words creep into the deepest parts of my soul, where desires I have never let myself truly feel come to light.
Desires I have told myself were forbidden, wrong, disgusting even, but she responds with such ease that I let myself wonder what it would be like to truly have what I want.
To have them both, to have them worshipping my body the way I know they both can, and for the first time since losing Logan, I feel something akin to hope.
So much so that I find myself opening up to her even more, admitting to the amount I have been drinking to curb the pain, and how I haven’t slept well since the night he died.
She listens intently, probably surprised by my level of candor, and for once I feel lighter than when I came in.
We discuss what life could look like a year from now if I put myself back out there, and talk about taking small steps with my family, including her thoughts on me attending the upcoming family trip.
She prescribes some medication for both my mood and to help me sleep, and by the time we are done, I feel a slither of my old self creeping back up to the surface.
The feeling is still burning beneath my skin when I slide back into the passenger seat of Max’s car, and I can feel him staring at me as I pull on my seatbelt.
“Are we still good?” he asks, and I almost smile at his question, wondering how many times I have ignored his offers of comfort the last year.
“We’re good,” I tell him truthfully, before holding up my prescription. “Well apparently I need medication, but all the cool kids are on drugs, right?” My joke is aimed at lightening the mood, but Max’s eyes fill with pride as he continues to stare at me.
“Did the good doctor already smuggle some down your throat, because there has to be a valid explanation for you just making a joke?” His taunt finally releases the smile that has been threatening to break free, but I quickly hide it and roll my eyes.
“I need coffee before we go home, Foster.” I try not to let my nerves shake my voice at my request, knowing it’s a simple one, yet it’s one I’ve not asked for in over a year.
Coffee dates and grabbing dinner were the norm for us once we all got settled back in the city, even before Max and I started sleeping together, but I can’t remember the last time we did one.
So me asking for one now is definitely out of routine, but to Max’s credit, he doesn’t even flinch at the suggestion.
“Lucky for you, princess, I know just the place.”
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by his choice, but still I find myself blushing slightly, as Max leads me into the place where we fucked in the bathroom last year, with an innocent smile plastered on his face.
I know he’s waiting for me to make some kind of comment, maybe testing me in some kind of way, but for whatever reason, I just return his smile and head to the counter to order.
Max of course doesn’t let me pay, slamming his card down before I can even get mine out, then ushering me to a table while he waits for our order.
I try not to let myself panic as I choose a seat by the window, telling myself this is normal and I have done it a thousand times before.
For some reason though, my body can no longer tell the difference between grabbing coffee and being at war.
It isn’t long before Max drops into the seat across from me, sliding a coffee and a cake toward me with a wink, before taking a sip of his own drink and surveying our surroundings.
It’s always the same with him, trying his best to locate any threats, knowing he could neutralize them in an instant.
It has me thinking about how he must feel about not being able to save Logan.
It wasn’t his fault by any means, but given his line of work, his closeness to my family, he must feel something about it.
“Do you think there is anything that could have been done differently that day?” My question has his stare snapping straight back to mine, and I know I don’t need to clarify for him to understand my meaning.
He takes another slow, measured sip of his drink, probably weighing up his words before he chooses how to respond.
“In my line of work there are always risks, we try to assess them the best way we can, but there are always variables we can’t account for because we don’t know they exist.” I can tell from his tone that he is serious now, and I find myself sitting up straighter to listen to him, as if my body is finally ready to face the truth of what happened that day.
“With Ash and Lo’ we had so many unknown variables, making it the worst kind of mission, we didn’t have any idea if they would even be there, let alone what state they would be in. ”
I nod, already knowing exactly what state they were in, and swallowing thickly at the thought. “But you did find them,” I say softly, and Max nods solemnly.
“Yes, we did, and their injuries were worse than we thought, but our first priority was getting them somewhere safe so we could assess them. Logan was up, he was walking, talking…” he trails off, and it’s only now that I hear the guilt and regret in his tone, as he tries to find his next words.
“She wanted to punish Lincoln and took the only two people who could do that, and I think no matter what, that one of them wasn’t walking out of there alive.
I guess Logan made the decision that it was going to be him, despite Ash’s efforts to stop him. ”
Everything he’s saying I have already come to terms with, except for that last part. “What do you mean despite Asher’s efforts?”
Max sighs again, as if he has already said more than he wanted to, but I know out of everyone he will tell me the truth no matter what.
“When she had them in captivity, she had her men beating them periodically over a few days.” His voice has no emotion this time, and I have to swallow the lump now forming in my throat.
“They would take turns beating each of them, until Ash started taunting them every time they entered, ensuring they focused their rage on him and not Logan. Honestly, I’m not sure how he survived and your brother didn’t, not when he was trying to save him. ”
My chest burns with pain at his admission, and my hand shakes as I reach out and grab my drink, just so I can try and ease the ache inside of me.
It hurts as I swallow, but not as much as the thought of Logan laying there and watching the man he loved be beaten over and over again.
And Asher? How much pain did he withstand just so my brother didn’t have to, and for what, just to lose him anyway?
Guilt of my own floods my veins now, at how quick I was to put the blame of my brother’s murder at his and Lincoln’s feet without reason. If it weren’t for them and Max, and Zack, we may have never got him back, may have never even had a body to bury.
I’ve got half a mind to ask Max to drag me straight back to Dr. Hollis’s office so I can unpack all of this with a professional, but I guess I will have to wait for my next session. Instead I nod slowly, inhaling deeply through my nose to try and ease the anxiety churning inside of me.
“I guess it’s time for me to take my head out of the sand,” I reply gently, and Max offers me another smile.
“Whatever drugs the doctor gave you, I hope you got some for me,” is all he responds, before going back to his drink with a smirk.
After our coffee date, Max and I picked up my new meds, before he dropped me back at my apartment and reluctantly left.
It felt quieter than usual after he was gone, and it’s in that silence that I realized I can’t keep living like this.
Staying cooped up in my apartment all day, just watching the days blur together into one big nothing, and Dr. Hollis was right, the only person who can determine my happiness is me.
So with that in mind, I take my first lot of meds, ignoring the nervousness swirling in my gut at the thought, and then busy myself with cleaning my kitchen.
My bedroom and bathroom follows, as does my closet, and by the time nightfall comes around, I have basically organized every inch of my apartment.
Sleep still doesn’t come as easy, but instead of my grief being the reason, it’s anticipation.
It’s my brain working overtime about all the ways I need to pull myself together and get back to my life.
Logan might be dead, but he wouldn’t have wanted me to let myself die right along with him.
For him I have to live, for him I have to do better, be better, and if I don’t start now, I never will.