Chapter Twenty-Three Theo
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: THEO
A s I shifted uncomfortably on the leather couch, I eyed the framed diplomas on the wall. From the looks of it, Dr. Nathaniel Zeller appeared to be a pompous ass. I couldn’t imagine why Coach Murano had thought he would be a good fit for me as a therapist. Of course, considering the way I was feeling about therapy, no one on earth could ever be a good fit.
When I’d approached Coach Murano, I’d hoped he would laugh in my face. He would say there was no way in hell someone like me possibly needed therapy. Powerhouse goalies with NHL potential don’t need shrinks.
Instead, he had given me a slow nod before saying, “I think that would benefit you a lot, Novak.”
That was the last fucking thing I needed to hear. It was one thing for Bennett to think I needed it regarding Vivian. It was quite another for Coach.
Sucking in a ragged breath, I thought back to when I was eight. I’d just started a new school and hated it. I was so miserable that I couldn’t eat. That morning before school, I’d passed out from lack of nutrition. Although my mother was letting me stay home, I didn’t want to be by myself. I wanted her to stay with me.
“Vera will be here.”
For a kid having a nervous breakdown, the fact that our housekeeper would be there wasn’t comforting. “Please stay with me, Mommy. I want to talk to you about how I’m feeling.”
She huffed in frustration. “Theo, would you give me a break? I’ve got a huge project at work. I’m already running late because of your theatrics this morning.”
Trying to bargain, I begged, “Just for an hour?”
When she had frozen midway through packing her bag, hope surged in me. Placing both hands on my shoulders, she said,“I do not have the time or patience for your whining, Teodor. The sooner you learn to handle your emotions the better.”
That was how my mother treated a scared and overwhelmed kid. I mean, feral animals show more compassion to their young. Of course, my father’s way of dealing with feelings and emotions made my mother look compassionate.
After that day, I’d never bothered trying to talk to her again. I realized it was just me against the world. I’d kept that mantra until now.
Until Vivian and impending fatherhood.
And when I thought about it, Bennett and Grayson.
“Nervous?” Vivian asked.
I jerked my gaze to hers. One of the stipulations I gave her was that I wanted her to come to the appointment with me. Of course, I didn’t expect her to go into the doctor’s office with me. I mean, what would she think of me when she heard all my dark shit? I just wanted to lean on her strength.
Lying through my teeth, I replied, “Nah, I’m good.”
Vivian cocked her head at me. “Theo, what have I said about lying to me?”
I grinned at her using my words against me. “You win. I’m pretty fucking nervous.”
She took my hand in hers. “It’s okay to feel that way. It’s never easy talking about ourselves with strangers, least of all doctors.”
“You never seem to have a problem with it.”
“Well, I am older than you.”
“Not that bullshit again.”
“You cannot discredit the maturity that comes with age,” she huffed.
“Yeah, well, some people have shit in their past that causes them to mature earlier,” I countered.
Vivian stared intently into my eyes. “Yes, trauma can do that.”
Scowling, I replied, “I didn’t say trauma. I just said shit.”
“It’s okay to admit you’ve had trauma, Theo,” Vivian said softly.
I snorted contemptuously. “You must be joking.”
“I wish I was.”
“There’s nothing traumatic about my life. For fuck’s sake, I have the very real potential of playing in the NHL. I have almost a 4.0 GPA. While the money was given to me, I own a townhouse and drive an expensive car.” With a shark-like smile, I added, “Let’s not forget how blessed I am in the looks department.”
Vivian didn’t laugh at my joke. At anything, she appeared even more forlorn. “Oh, Theo.”
I grunted. “Don’t do that.”
“What?”
“Pity me.”
“I’m sorry. That’s just who I am.”
I opened my mouth to argue where she could stick her empathy when the door creaked open. My breath hitched as a relatively young-looking dude stuck his head out. “Theo Novak?”
“Uh, yeah,” I croaked.
He jerked his thumb at the office. “Come on in. I’m Dr. Zeller.”
For a moment, I couldn’t move. It was like my ass was super glued to the leather. It was so bad that Vivian patted my knee encouragingly as if somehow that would get me moving.
As if sensing my apprehension, Dr. Zeller said, “Would you like your girlfriend to come in?”
“No!” I quickly blared.
While Dr. Zeller’s brows creased, he held his hands up. “That’s fine. I just wanted to offer it.”
Considering how I was looking like a complete and total pussy, I forced myself off the couch. “Let’s do this.”
Vivian stood up beside me. “I’m here if you need me.”
“I said I was fine,” I grumbled without looking back at her. I got halfway across the floor before I froze. Once again, I was retreating to assholery instead of dealing with my emotions. Vivian didn’t deserve my wrath.
Turning back, I gave her an apologetic smile. “Thanks for offering.”
“Anytime,” she replied with a wink.
Warmth spread through my chest at her response. I then turned and followed Dr. Zeller into the office. Once we got inside, Dr. Zeller motioned to the chair in front of a large, mahogany desk. “Please have a seat.”
Glancing around, I mused, “No couch?”
He smiled. “Too many people nodding off.”
“Makes sense.”
After I eased into my chair, I noticed several hockey trophies on his shelf. Motioning to them, I asked, “Where did you play?”
“Dartmouth for college, and then for the Bruins for a season.”
“Holy shit, seriously?”
Nodding, Dr. Zeller replied, “One of the most amazing years of my life.”
“Why just a season?” I asked.
“Blew out my knee.” With a wry smile, he said, “I suppose I should say another player blew it out for me with a low check.”
Wincing, I replied, “That fucking sucks.”
Dr. Zeller leaned back in his chair. “Yes, it certainly did.”
“Guess it makes sense that Coach Murano recommended you.”
“Over the years, Gus has sent many players to me.” After steepling his fingers, Dr. Zeller eyed me intently. “And why has he sent you?”
“My buddies gave me an ultimatum.”
“And what precipitated that request?”
Furrowing my brows, I asked, “Huh?”
The corners of Dr. Zeller’s lips quirked. “What actions of yours made them suggest therapy?”
I shifted in my seat. Nothing like going straight for the jugular. “It’s a long story.”
“We have an hour.” Cocking his brows, he added, “Well, at least for today.”
Clearing my throat, my mind spun with ways to get out of this. Maybe I could bullshit him for a bit with my fears about my post-secondary life. Or I could maybe throw him a little bone about my childhood.
“Or if you would prefer, we can just sit here and enjoy the quiet.”
“You’re shitting me.”
He laughed. “No. I’m not.” At my continued disbelief, he said, “This is your time and your dime.”
The old me probably would’ve appreciated the joke as well as taking him up on the offer. Instead, agitation thrummed through me. “And how the hell am I going to fix my anger if I sit here on my ass?”
“Do you want to fix it?”
With a roll of my eyes, I replied, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“But it was an ultimatum, not your desire for healing that brought you here.”
“Isn’t that enough?”
“I’m afraid not.”
Tightening my hands on the arms of the chair, I growled, “This is bullshit.”
“Perhaps you need to sit in quiet reflection rather than speaking about what happened?”
I shook my head. “No. I want you to fix me.”
“Only you can do that.”
“If that’s the truth, then why am I here?”
“To get the tools you need to fix yourself.”
Groaning, I pinched the bridge between my eyes. “Would you stop with the psychobabble bullshit and just tell me what I need to do to ensure I never hurt Vivian or my kid?”
Dr. Zeller’s brows shot up. “Your child?”
I smirked at him. “It’s part of that long story.”
To my surprise, Dr. Zeller smirked back. “Then I suppose you better start at the beginning.”
With a slow shake of my head, I replied, “You’re pretty good.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“You tricked me emotionally and steamrolled me into submission.”
Dr. Zeller grinned. “I like to call it the Zeller Zamboni.”
“It’s a good one.”
“Quit stalling and start talking.
With ten minutes left on the clock, I prowled around Dr. Zeller’s office. I’d come out of my chair about thirty minutes into our appointment. Instead of telling me to sit down, Dr. Zeller tossed me a puck. I didn't even bother asking where the hell it had come from. Instead, I just kept hurling emotional vomit at him.
I had to admit the puck was a nice touch. Something about running my fingers over the rough edges soothed me. I rarely handled them without my gloves.
Instead of starting in my childhood, I began trauma dumping from the present. To his credit, Zeller didn’t even flinch when I unloaded about my threesome superstition, hooking up with Vivian, and my potential fatherhood.
Eventually, he got me to focus on what I was feeling for Vivian. After all, it was the reason why I’d come to therapy in the first place.
“I’ve never had a long-term relationship.”
“One might reason there is a first time for everything,” Dr. Zeller suggested.
“While that might be true, I’m not sure I can.”
“You won’t know until you try. From what you’ve told me, you feel Vivian is worth trying for.”
“But it’s not just about me.”
“You mean the two other members of your relationship?”
“Yeah.”
Dr. Zeller eyed me curiously. “Is it because you fear losing control?”
“It’s not like I care that much about control,” I lied as I tossed the puck up and down in my hand.”
“Are you sure about that?” he countered.
With a roll of my eyes, I replied, “Jesus, do you have a bullshit meter or something?”
“It was part of my PhD program,” he joked.
I laughed. “Okay, fine. I do like control.”
“What happens when you don’t have it?”
“I get angry and frustrated.”
“And those emotions are a problem.”
“Exactly.”
“So, we have to find a way for you to slowly give up control.”
Unease pricked over my body. “We do?”
He nodded. “You need to be comfortable without control to be successful with your partners in your relationship. Not to mention one of the most unpredictable creatures in the world is a child.”
As my chest tightened, a ding went off on his phone. “And that’s all the time we have for today. Nice job.”
“Thanks.”
“When can you come in again?”
My eyes bulged. “Again? I have to come back?”
“We’ve only scratched the surface.”
“Can’t you just give me some things to read?”
Dr. Zeller narrowed his eyes. “You didn’t become a skilled hockey player overnight, did you?”
With a groan, I swept my hands over my face. “Not a fucking hockey analogy to guilt trip me into coming back.”
“It’s always a good time for a mental health and hockey analogy,” Dr. Zeller joked.
“I’m serious.”
“So am I, Theo.”
At the sudden seriousness of his expression, I shifted in my seat. “How bad is it? I mean, how bad am I?”
“I don’t see success for you in any relationship, least of all a polyamorous one, unless you can overcome your anger and control issues.”
“Thanks for not sugarcoating it,” I grumbled.
“Sorry. I believe in complete transparency.”
Easing back in my seat, I shook my head. “I don’t want to do this.”
“No one does. Myself included.”
“You see a shrink?”
“Of course.”
“Why?”
He cocked his brows at me. “I could tell you that it is private, but as I said before, I believe in transparency. You know better than anyone what losing your dream would feel like. I spiraled for many years. Like you, someone gave me an ultimatum to get help.”
“So you were as fucked up as me?”
“In some ways, yes.”
“Interesting.”
Opening his appointment book, Dr. Zeller said, “Would this time next week work?”
“You want me every week?”
“I’d prefer twice a week, but I know you’re on a tight schedule with hockey.”
“Fuck,” I muttered.
“Okay, I’ll go ahead and put you down.”
I snorted. “Fine. Put me down twice next week.”
With a grin, he replied, “Look at you wanting to crush therapy.”
“Don’t get cocky, doc. This has everything to do with that redhead out there.”
“We all need motivators.”
I tossed him back the puck. “See you next week.”
“I look forward to it.” When I started to the door, his words stopped me. “And one more thing.”
“Christ, what is it now?” I demanded.
“I would like to see the four of you in my office.”
“You want to see Bennett and Grayson and Vivian?”
He nodded. “Therapy for polyamorous couples is very important. Especially since none of you have ever partaken in a poly relationship.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I replied, “I don’t see that happening.”
“I think if you broach the subject, you’ll be surprised.”
“Do you get paid by the person or the hour?”
“Sadly, just the hour,” he lamented with a smile.
“Whatever. I guess I can ask.”
Somehow I knew that Vivian and Bennett would be more than willing to accompany me. As for Grayson, he was going to take more convincing. Of course, I’m sure if Vivian asked, he would do it.
After all, the three of us were ridiculously pussy whipped.