43. Nikola
NIKOLA
T he weeks passed in a blur of X-rays, rehab, physical therapies, and then there was seeing the therapist that my mother had insisted on.
Tap… tap… tap… tap… tap.
Why did all therapists have that annoying habit? I thought to myself as I watched Dr. MaryAnn’s fingers twitching around the pen.
I didn’t like the woman and much preferred Dr. Freud to her, but Marietta had let it slip that Skye was seeing Dr. Freud, so using her as my therapist was out of the question. Besides, I found these sessions useless. I only agreed to them to make my parents happy.
The return to the Nikolaev compound proved to be challenging for all of us, and honestly, getting out of there for these therapy sessions was a small reprieve.
But clearly Dr. MaryAnn didn’t feel the same as her eyes narrowed on me with distaste.
It was only my second session, but I had to wonder why the woman agreed to take me on as a client. She clearly had something against me. Maybe she’d heard of my and my family’s reputation and our potential to cause harm.
As a slow, cruel smile tugged on my lips, she glanced away from me.
“Let’s talk about how being handicapped makes you feel.”
Whoever said seeing a therapist should fucking help? I cursed silently as my fists clenched. My family delicately called it disabled, but this damned woman went straight for the jugular.
However, I refused to be baited. Instead, I sat back in my wheelchair, seemingly unperturbed.
“Why don’t you tell me?” I drawled lazily. “I’m told therapists know everything.”
She inhaled a breath, frustration marring her face, along with something else that I couldn’t quite pinpoint. “You feel useless.”
Fuck, did I ever, but instead, I stated coldly, “Maybe.”
“You feel all the wrongs, your sins are catching up to you.”
Her words left me agitated and ready to rain fury on her. On the entire world. But I refused to react. Dr. MaryAnn reminded me of a cougar who was always watching, ready to pounce.
As if she could sense weakness, a determination entered her posture and she straightened her shoulders. “Do you believe in karma, Nikola? What goes around, comes around?”
I chuckled, the sound harsh and cold, and said, “Maybe.”
Hesitation flickered across her expression, but she refused to stop.
“I think you realize that those you love will always be in harm’s way whenever around you,” she stated matter-of-factly. “The only way to protect those around you is to keep your distance. Especially now that you’re handicapped.”
Handicapped. I fucking hated that word. I would have killed anyone in a heartbeat whenever they called Skye that filthy word, yet now as I heard it… I wondered if maybe this woman was right.
I was handicapped and nothing would ever be the same.
I grabbed the handles of my wheelchair and rolled out of there while my chest hurt like I’d taken another bullet, shattering my whole heart and soul into tiny little pieces.
“Until next time, Doctor.”