Chapter 20 Fileted
Fileted
Aaron
The idea left me cold. I’d never do that to her again.
Over all our years together, we’d barely spent a handful of nights apart other than the occasional business trip or training program. Last night was an anomaly I never wanted to repeat.
I sucked back a coffee and a bagel then went down to the basement to run on the treadmill and pound out the fog in my brain.
Two hours later, sitting in my car at the foot of my mom’s driveway, I texted Max. Within five minutes, he opened the door in a sweatshirt and pajama pants. Ten minutes after that, we sat around the kitchen table with coffee while my mom slept.
“Spit it out, son.”
I rubbed the back of my neck.
“Is it the situation with Ryan?”
“It’s part of it,” I sighed. “The truth is I’d been thinking about a career change long before that.” I looked away. “Maybe that’s what’s eating me up inside. Maybe my head wasn’t in it, and I missed the signs with him.”
Max shook his head and leaned toward me. “Then we both missed the signs because I was seeing Ryan, too.”
“But he trusted me…”
Max shook his head. “And you honored that trust. The problem is there was no follow-up. Rhonda blames us because she needs a scapegoat. If you’d had the opportunity to follow up with Ryan, you would probably have found it was an impulsive decision brought on by one stress too many.
You could not have known because he didn’t know himself. ”
My chin hit my chest. “Do you believe that?”
“I do. I’ve seen it before.”
I shook my head. “That didn’t even occur to me.”
“Imagine if you’d sat down with me months ago,” he responded drily.
I huffed out a laugh. Max gave it to me straight, always had. It was that that allowed me to trust him from the get-go with my mom at a time I trusted no man.
Interrupting my chain of thought, he continued, “You want to do something else with your life?”
I nodded slowly. “I think so.”
Max leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “Should we hire two candidates then? Do a six to twelve month phase out with both of us instead of just me?”
I blinked at him. Could it be that easy? Had I made this so much more difficult than it needed to be? Did me leaving not affect his plans?
The lines in Max’s brow deepened. “No?” He leaned back and crossed his ankle over his knee. “If you need to pull back entirely, son, I’ll handle it.”
“I can’t do that to you.”
Max looked out the window but seemed to see something else entirely.
“The first time I failed a patient, I changed tracks and went into research for two years. Eventually, I found my way back to what I was meant to do which was work face to face with patients. That was the right answer for me. I couldn’t begin to guess what yours might be. There’s no judgment here.”
“My concern is that me leaving puts a damper on your retirement plans.”
He shook his head. “It doesn’t change my plans at all. From the beginning, I planned on a six to twelve month exit plan.”
A comfortable silence stretched between us as he gave me the time I needed to sort through my feelings.
“I think, if I have a solid exit plan, I would like to ease my patients through the transition with as little stress on them as possible.”
“And that’s how I know you’re a good therapist. You put the patient first. Even when you shouldn’t. I’m proud of you.”
Four words, so unexpected under the circumstances, flayed my chest open like a filet.
For months I’d battled, beating back the despair to make it through another day.
For months, I’d berated myself over my failing, bore the shame of letting myself down, letting Ryan down.
Especially letting Max down.
Max who’d done so much for me and Audrey.
Max who loved my mother so utterly and completely.
Max who put his trust in me when he took me on, fresh from school.
My eyes rounded as they flew to his.
Max’s eyes sharpened on my face. Dropping his foot to the floor, he leaned in. “I’m proud of you.”
I swallowed, tried to force a smile, and failed. Dipping my chin, I blew out a breath attempting to regain my composure.
It shouldn’t have hit me so hard.
It wasn’t like it was the first time he’s said it.
My mom said it all the time.
Dini said it.
Even my kids said it.
But there’d never been a time I’d needed to hear it more desperately.
Reaching out with one of his long-ass arms, he clamped his hand down on my shoulder. “If you were mine, I couldn’t be any prouder. It’s been the privilege of a lifetime working alongside you,” he voiced gruffly.
Keeping my head down, I fought to control the gratitude that roared in my chest. Breathing deeply, I beat it back.
I huffed out a laugh, then drew in another breath. Swiping beneath my eyes, I exhaled roughly and joked, “Fuck me, Max. You’re going to have me bawling like a baby.”
His dimpled grin took a decade off his face. “For fuck’s sake, don’t do that. Your mother will flay me alive.”