Chapter 23
Roxanne
“Mr. Donovan, you can’t go in there!” I hear Lisa, the receptionist, call out as my office door abruptly swings open, Caleb strutting right in as if he owned the place.
Damn it.
After the conversation we had yesterday morning, I really thought he’d respect the barriers I set in place and not harass me at work. Apparently, I misjudged his stubbornness.
Lisa stayed late tonight to catch up on transcribing some patient files for me, so it’s just bad luck she had to witness the whole event.
“I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Seymour, but he just flew past me,” she tries to explain, giving Caleb the side eye.
“It’s quite alright, Lisa. I’ll take it from here,” I assure while trying to keep my expression as blank as possible so neither one realizes how nerve-racking it is to have Caleb here.
I wait for Lisa to close the door behind her before I place all my attention on my uninvited guest, who is now sprawled out on the chair in front of me.
“Told you she didn’t like me,” Caleb says unrepentantly.
“You did. Though I doubt her dislike of you is for the reasons you think. Usually, people take offense when someone undermines their livelihood,” I retort evenly.
“And how exactly did I do that?”
“Barging into my office when I could have been with a patient, for one.”
“If memory serves right, this is my time slot, no one else’s.”
“It was,” I reply, straightening my spine. “When you were a patient. That no longer stands, as you well know.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he counters with a sly grin.
“Yes, you do. I made it perfectly clear that you’re no longer my patient, and therefore, I’m no longer your therapist.”
“See…” He starts wagging his finger in the air and staring at the ceiling before looking into my eyes. “I don’t remember ever firing you.”
“You didn’t. I fired you.”
He chuckles at that.
“No. You fucked me. You didn’t fire me.”
I feel my cheeks heat up at the way he drawls out the word ‘fuck.’
“And because of that lapse in judgment,” I clear my throat, “a professional relationship between us will no longer work.”
“Again, that’s where you and I disagree. I need to get back to the team, as you well know, and you’re the only one who can make it happen.”
“There are plenty of other qualified professionals that can aid you in your predicament, Mr. Donovan. I will make sure to explain to your GM that I’m the one who can no longer offer you help.”
“Oh, yeah? And just what exactly are you going to tell him, Dr. Seymour ? I would assume the truth would be out of the question.”
How I wish he wasn’t right.
If Rex and Trent were the only ones I had to give justifications to, then I know that both would forgive my indiscretion as long as I made sure never to do it again.
Lawrence Preston III, on the other hand, would not tolerate such indiscretions . Judging from the brief interactions I had with Preston in the past, he wouldn’t hesitate to report me to the medical board, ensuring that I would lose my license without him losing any sleep over it.
“That’s what I thought,” Caleb smirks at my silence.
My heart starts pounding when he gets up from his seat to walk behind my desk, leaning against it, mere inches away from me. After ensuring I’m good and rattled, he grabs a rubber band ball from my desk and begins tossing it into the air, catching it repeatedly.
“Luckily for you, I have another plan. A better plan.”
“I’m sure you do,” I grumble, not liking where this is going.
“How about a compromise? You’ll stay my therapist, help me get my spot back on the team, and I promise never to touch you again. Not until you beg me to, that is.” He winks flirtatiously.
“I can assure you, that won’t happen.”
“What won’t? That you won’t be my therapist or that you won’t beg me to fucking touch you?”
“Both.”
He smiles.
God, I hate it when he smiles.
It’s like he knows some secret that is all his and no one else’s.
I especially hate how his smile makes my heart skip a beat.
“Alright then. We can always go to plan B—march into Preston’s office right now and explain why you really don’t want to work with me.”
“Are you blackmailing me?” I ask, aghast.
“Me?” he parrots deviously. “Not in the least. I’m merely fighting for what I want.”
“And what exactly is that?” I seethe.
He gets up from the desk, walks straight over to me, and raises my chin with his knuckles.
“I want you to help me get my shit together so I can get my spot back on the team.”
My forehead creases since that wasn’t the answer I thought he’d say.
“And…” he drawls mischievously. “I want you. In my bed and in my arms.”
“That won’t happen.”
“Oh, Roxie, but it will.” He smiles widely. “You have until the end of the day to decide.”
He then bends down and presses a tender kiss to my cheek, making my insides melt with the sweetness of his action despite his intent of blackmailing me.
Only after I watch him leave my office do I let out the breath I was holding in my lungs.
What am I going to do?
If I tell the truth, then I’m as good as fired.
But if I don’t, if I continue to see Caleb, I’m not sure I won’t give in to him again.
The night we spent together will be permanently engraved in my mind, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t replayed every second of it in my head.
Unable to make this decision on my own, I call the one person who has no dog in this race and can give me some good advice—Rex.
We agree to meet the next day at our usual spot.
As I sit on my favorite park bench, anxiously waiting for him to show up, I hear a familiar voice call out to me, “Why the sad face?” he asks when he arrives. “Oh, no. Is it one of those days?” he probes worriedly, mistaking my anxiety for melancholy.
“No.” I shake my head. “This doesn’t have anything to do with Gregg. Or maybe it does. Honestly, I don’t know anymore.”
His brows furrow at my erratic state, which is to be expected since I’m usually the voice of reason.
“I messed up, Rex. I really messed up.”
“You?” He smiles warmly. “I highly doubt it.”
“I did. I really did. And now… I might lose my job over it.”
Rex’s expression turns serious with my statement.
“What happened?”
I tell him everything, from start to finish.
Rex—God bless him—doesn’t interrupt once as I explain how my relationship with Caleb was always complicated from the start. How I felt some kind of kinship for him. Whether I initially knew it or not, there was always this pull between us. Something that called out to me whenever I was in his presence. Either it was his grief that struck a chord inside me or just blatant physical attraction. I’m not sure. All I know is that when he was at his lowest point, I couldn’t stomach it, needing to ease his suffering in any way I could.
And now… now I’m just as lost as he ever was.
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do. Should I tell Trent? Should I just walk right up to him and tell him the whole truth, let the cards fall where they may? Or do I take Caleb up on his offer and pretend that nothing happened between us? Can I even give Caleb impartial advice when I feel anything but?”
“Those are a lot of questions, Roxanne.” Rex frowns. “And I’m afraid only you have the answers to them. What does your gut tell you?”
“That I should go to Trent.”
“Then do that. Trent will understand. Of that, I have no doubt.”
“Are you sure? Trent isn’t exactly the understanding type.”
“Best he hears it from you, rather than from someone else,” Rex warns. “We both know how he’d overreact then.”
That’s true.
Trent might not like the fact that I slept with one of his players while said player was a patient of mine, but he’d be furious if he got blindsided by the truth coming out before he learned about it.
“In the meantime, I say the best thing for you to do is not engage with Donovan if you can avoid it. From what you just told me, it seems like he’s a man on a mission, and he won’t easily give up, no matter how hard you try to discourage him. Though, I’m not surprised, really. I saw how he looked at you at my party the other night. He’s completely besotted.”
“He’s unreasonable, is what he is,” I grumble, hating how my heart skipped yet another beat by Rex’s description of Caleb’s feelings for me.
“Well, whatever he is, I’m glad he’s appeared in your life.” Rex laughs.
“Glad?” I retort in shock. “How can you be glad? Do I have to remind you of the dilemma I’m in?”
“Yes, I’m fully aware of your predicament, but I’m sure you’ll find a solution for all of it. When I say that I’m glad that Donovan came into your life, it’s because I’ve never seen you talk about anyone with such fervor. The boy, for all his faults, has managed to do something I didn’t think possible—getting under your skin, sweet girl. That alone should tell you that your feelings for him aren’t just based on physical attraction, as you so put it. There’s something there, Roxanne. And I wish you’d allow yourself to find out what that something is. A couple of years back, you never would have entertained such strong feelings. That’s growth.”
“Or betrayal.”
“Ah, so it seems we have arrived at the true heart of the matter.” He frowns. “You feel that having feelings for someone that isn’t Gregg is a betrayal of his memory.”
“In part,” I admit.
“And do you think living like a ghost is something that would make Gregg happy?”
“Pot, kettle, Rex. Pot, kettle,” I reply with a sigh.
“Ah, see, that’s where we differ. I’m leaving Boston in a couple of days so I can finally start honoring my Martha by living my life to its fullest. Take it from me, sweet girl. The dead make for terrible bedfellows. You are far too young to close yourself off in such a way.”
“Debatable,” I mumble, not having the strength to argue with such a dear friend.
“Nothing debatable about that. Everyone deserves a shot at happiness. You just have to be brave enough to grab and hold on tight to it when it knocks on your door.” He smiles warmly. “But first things first. Talk to Trent. Confide in him as you have done with me. I’m sure he’ll understand and advise you on what to do next.”
I nod, knowing that coming clean to Trent is the correct thing to do.
How I’m supposed to deal with Caleb from here on out, will have to wait.
After my heartfelt conversation with Rex, I decide that the best course of action is to drive to the Guardians Arena and see Trent. I know he’ll be disappointed in my behavior, but hopefully, he won’t drop the gavel on me.
“Good afternoon, Dr. Seymour.” Brigitte smiles at me when I approach her desk.
“Hi, Brigitte.” I smile back nervously. “Is Trent in?”
“He is. Do you want me to check if he is available to see you now?”
“I would. Thank you.”
I stand there anxiously as she calls him, announcing my presence.
“Go right on in,” she says after hanging up the phone.
“Thank you.”
I take a deep breath and open Trent’s office door, surprised to see him with company.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were busy,” I say, my gaze falling on the beautiful blonde fixing her hair as she hurriedly walks away from behind his desk where he’s sitting. “Hello, Piper. Nice to see you again.”
“Hi, Roxanne,” she says, her cheeks still flushed from whatever excursion was taking place before I walked into the office.
“I can come back at a more convenient time. It’s no bother,” I say, feeling awkward for interrupting.
“Actually, I was just finishing up some emails before I take Piper to lunch,” Trent says while fixing his tie, pulling my attention to the closed laptop on his desk.
Emails.
Right.
“You’re more than welcome to join us,” Piper proposes cheerfully while Trent immediately frowns at the invitation.
“That’s very kind of you to offer, but I’ve already had lunch. Thank you anyway.” I smile, unable to stop my fidgeting.
“What’s wrong?” Trent’s face contorts, sensing my discomfort.
I look over at Piper and then back to him, uncomfortable about having this discussion in front of his girlfriend. Especially since she’s such an important fixture in Caleb’s life.
Trent might be understanding if I confess to having slept with his delinquent player—Piper, on the other hand, will surely not.
She’ll see it as I see it—that I took advantage of him when he was at his most vulnerable.
Shame coats every inch of my face as I turn to both and say, “Maybe I can come back at another time.”
“Is this about Caleb?” Piper asks, going to the root cause of all my troubles.
“Yes,” I admit, my shoulders slumping in defeat.
“Great. What has the jackass done now?” Trent groans.
“Stop,” Piper chastises her boyfriend in defense of her friend. “Why do you always assume the worst? Maybe Roxanne is here to tell you how well he’s been doing lately. And that she thinks you should give him a shot to play in the Stanley Cup finals. Did that ever cross your mind?”
“Very well.” Trent stands up, walks to the front of his desk, and leans against it. “Is that why you’re here, Roxanne?”
“No.” I shake my head.
“See? Just like I figured.” Trent throws a shark-like grin at Piper, one that could almost read, ‘I told you so.’
“Whatever he’s done, we need to give him a bit of grace. He’s going through it right now,” Piper rebukes, still on the defense.
“And due to the ordeal Donovan has been facing, I have shown him such patience. However, there is only so much patience one man can have.”
Piper shrugs away her boyfriend’s remark and stares at me.
“What’s wrong? Is he okay?” she asks, as her big blue eyes stare at me expectantly.
“Actually, I… well… the thing is…”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Roxanne,” Trent admonishes. “What has gotten into you? Out with it already.”
“Very well. I no longer feel I’m the best person to help Caleb. I would be doing a disservice to him and to this club if I continue on as his therapist.”
I straighten my spine when Trent’s scrutinizing gaze feels like it can see right through me.
“You’re giving me whiplash, Roxanne. First, you barge into my office, upset that I had the audacity to suspend him from the team, and now here you are again, only this time asking to be dismissed as his therapist. What changed?”
“Nothing’s changed,” I lie. “I’m just reiterating a sentiment I explained before when I told you that what he needs is a therapist who specializes in grief.”
“You are the best therapist we have. If you can’t fix him, no one can.”
“He doesn’t need fixing, Trent. He just needs someone to understand him,” Piper defends again before she puts her sole focus on me. “I know he’s a hard person to work with. Believe me, he’s given me more than my fair share of headaches. But he’s a genuinely good guy. He’s loyal and sweet when he wants to be. Whatever he did to make you want to stop seeing him, all of a sudden, I’m sure it was just him lashing out. Please don’t abandon him now. Not when he needs you most.”
“Like I said, I’m not sure I’m equipped to help him anymore,” I repeat, my voice sounding robotic to my ears.
My palms grow sweaty, and my heart races in my chest as Piper continues to stare at me with such worry in her blue gaze.
“As you can see, my wonderful girlfriend has a soft spot for Donovan, which I have inherited by default. But just because I like the idiot, it doesn’t mean I want you to suffer his insolence if you think you can no longer handle it,” Trent affirms. “Let me make this clear, whereas Piper’s loyalties lie with Donovan, mine will always lie with you,” he says poignantly. “We’ve been friends for far too long for me to not take into account any of your requests. Having said that, I would be remiss if I didn’t say that I doubt there is a therapist in all of the city of Boston that could connect with the kid like you have,” he continues to say. “Whatever you’re doing is working, Roxanne. I saw it at Rex’s farewell party, as did everyone else.”
“It’s true,” Piper adds. “He’s different. Grown even.”
“Proven by the fact that he apologized to Bellamy Van Rhyne for his lamentable behavior,” Trent interjects.
“Bellamy told you?” I smile, happy that he has genuinely forgiven Caleb.
“He did. Even with all his misfortune, Bellamy made sure I knew how sorry Donovan was about his less-than-stellar welcoming to the team. The Donovan I knew a year ago wouldn’t have apologized for jack shit. I know the kid didn’t do that of his own volition, so you must have influenced him somehow.”
“Man,” I correct. “Stop referring to Caleb as a kid or boy. He’s a full-grown adult. And whatever apology he made to Bellamy, I can assure you it was all his doing. I had nothing to do with it.”
Trent’s grin stretches from ear to ear as his gaze bounces from me to Piper.
“Sweetheart, did that sound like a therapist ready to give up on her patient?”
“No, it does not.” She beams.
“I didn’t think so,” he quips, eyes back on me.
Argh.
He tricked me.
He tricked me, and I fell for it.
“So, now that’s settled, lunch awaits,” Trent says, holding out his arm for Piper to hook hers to.
She links her arm to his and mouths ‘thank you’ to me as Trent leads her out the door.
This meeting did not transpire as I had predicted it would.
The aim was to confess all my sins, and as a result, Trent would be forced to accept my unwillingness to keep Caleb as my patient.
But all I ended up doing was cement my role as his therapist.
Great.
Just great.
What am I supposed to do now?
I stare at my phone like it has teeth.
I shake the thought away and pick it up, knowing there is no use avoiding the inevitable.
Me: You win. I’m still your therapist. See you tomorrow at six.
As soon as I send the text, I drop the phone on the coffee table and get up from the couch, preferring to pace back and forth, waiting for his reply.
After a few minutes without a response, I pick up the phone again just to be sure the damn text went through. I frown when I see that he’s read the message but hasn’t bothered to reply.
Why I’m disappointed, I don’t know.
Angry at myself for acting like a schoolgirl, pining over a text from her crush that will never come, I chuck my phone away to avoid being tempted to stare at it all night.
Before I have time to go upstairs to my room, there is a knock on my door that halts me on the spot. Intrigued about who it could be, I walk over to it and look through the peephole.
“It’s me,” Caleb says on the other side of the door.
My heart hammers in my chest as I spin around and lean against the door.
“What… what do you want?” I ask nervously.
“For you to open the door, Roxie.”
“No.”
“No?”
“Yes.”
“Is it yes or no, Roxie? I’m confused.” He chuckles.
I pinch the bridge of my nose because his amused laughter wreaks even more havoc on my already frazzled nerves.
“Just open the door, Roxie. I promise I won’t be long.”
I take a deep breath and consider my options.
If I don’t open the door and let him in, he’ll probably spend the night on my doorstep just to aggravate me.
Knowing that I don’t have many options, I turn around and open the door.
“What?” I ask a bit too aggressively.
“Well, hello to you too, love. Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“No.”
His smile broadens, making those two dimples of his more prominent.
“Let me inside, Roxanne. I know you want to,” he repeats, his eyes daring mine to refuse him again.
Unable to look at his face a minute longer, I widen the door and let him step inside.
“Now see? Was that so hard?”
“Just tell me what you want and be done with it. I have already succumbed to your demands. I would have assumed that would be enough for you.”
“You would think so, wouldn’t you?” He winks before taking a seat on my couch, arms laid back, and legs spread wide.
“Please, make yourself at home, why don’t you?” I retort sarcastically.
“You’re angry at me,” he states, matter of fact.
“That happens when a person is blackmailed into doing something she doesn’t want to.”
He doesn’t say anything, preferring to scroll his gaze up and down my body.
“Well? I don’t have all night,” I say, doing my best not to fidget under his lingering gaze.
“Oh? Do you have big plans for tonight? Do you need to be somewhere?” he teases, staring at my pajama bottoms.
There is no use in coming up with a lie.
Even if I weren’t already in my pajamas, he’d see right through any of my lies.
“The only big plans I have are with a good book and a long bath. Neither possible if I have to stand here and entertain you.”
“I do love to be entertained.” He licks his lips suggestively.
“Well, tough. If you really do want to continue with our sessions, then there must be some ground rules—my home being off-limits to you is number one.”
He takes a beat and nods.
“Fair enough. Do you have any more?”
I swallow the confounding feelings of disappointment that he conceded to that demand so quickly.
“I’m sure I’ll come up with some, given enough time,” I rebuke, crossing my arms over my chest so I have something to do with my hands.
“So? Are you going to tell me why you’re here, or am I supposed to guess?”
“God, you’re so fucking hot when you’re angry at me,” he says, taking the wind out of my sail with such an unexpected comment.
I don’t dare say anything to it, fearing he’ll just press me further until I break.
“Caleb,” I grind my teeth. “Why are you here?”
“I wanted to ask you a question.”
Again, I remain silent.
“Why do you sleep in your guest bedroom?”
A jolt of panic shoots through me, the words stuck in my throat while my mind races to find a response.
“That… that is… none of your business.”
“Agree to disagree. Now answer the question, Roxanne. Why don’t you sleep in your own bed? Why keep a second bedroom?”
“I repeat, that’s none of your business,” I finally manage to say with conviction while straightening my spine.
Caleb stares at me with those emerald eyes that spell nothing but trouble.
A shriek escapes me when I’m forced to jump back after he springs to his feet and eats the distance between us with only two strides. He stops a few inches away from me, but I can still feel the heat of his body graze mine, coaxing memories of what we did two nights ago.
My breathing turns shallow when he gently presses his hand on my cheek, staring deep into my eyes.
“I’m sorry for your loss, Roxie. Truly.”
I swallow dryly because I don’t know what to say.
He means every word.
I’ve heard the phrase a million times, and traditionally, thank you is always my knee-jerk response, but to Caleb, I say nothing.
I’m not sure how much time passes with us just staring at each other, but when he drops his hand off my cheek, a cold chill runs down my spine in mourning.
He begins to move towards the door, my stiff shoulder slumping in relief, but just as he reaches it, he turns to me with an unfamiliar look on his face.
“I know you still mourn the love you lost, but I’m here to tell you that my intention is not to replace him. He had a part of you that I know I’ll never be able to touch. But that doesn’t mean I won’t fight tooth and nail to win the rest of your heart and keep you all to myself.”
“Is that another threat?” I rasp, shook by his words.
“No, love. It’s a promise. This… is just our beginning.”