Chapter 14
Chapter 14
It seemed as if Dr. Jones knew Tanner had something special to talk about that Tuesday. Maybe she came equipped with some sort of spidey-sense/shrink-feelers that warned her in advance of his arrival. Another one of life’s greatest mysteries.
Tanner just had the best weekend of his life, and it was all because of Lance. They’d fucked like rabbits and, during their rest breaks, watched sports on TV, had a few beers, and finished up several house projects. Tanner hadn’t had a single bad dream, and while he knew it wouldn’t always be this way, he felt so much better now than when he’d been buried in a pit of despair prior to meeting Lance.
Dr. Jones was all smiles as Tanner took his usual spot on her large leather couch. She looked him up and down, appraising him as one would cattle at the stockyard. Whatever she saw seemed to satisfy her.
“You look good,” she told him, getting right to it.
“I feel good,” he admitted with a shrug. She waited for him to offer more information. Usually, this was the part where Tanner squared off with her, refusing to budge—to protect himself, but today—it felt like too much work. He’d been hanging onto so much luggage for so damned long. And all for what?
“I met someone.”
She nodded like she already knew. He pulled one of her decorative pillows into his lap, playing with the fringe along the seams to help relieve his nervous tension.
“A man,” he added, because he might as well come out and fucking say it, right? It was the whole point of sitting here once a week for an hour, forcing his ass to stay parked on this huge leather couch, wasn’t it? To admit to things, usually for the very first time. To come to terms with making decisions, right or wrong. He needed to man up and deal with this momentous decision he had made to be with Lance. Didn’t they both deserve his honesty?
She gave him a soft smile, looking neither surprised nor shocked. Perhaps she did already know, or maybe she needed a whole lot more than that to be surprised or shocked. Impossible to tell either way with her.
“Would you like to talk about him?”
Yes. He would like to. Just not for the reason he’d expected to. He talked about him mainly because Lance had started putting pieces of him back together. Pieces of his soul that he had thought were broken forever. He hadn’t thought it was possible. He talked about Lance because it was all he could think about these days. Because Lance was a safe place to land, and Tanner hadn’t come across one of those in over three years. He talked and talked, and she listened to everything. Tossing around ideas with him whenever he needed help with some aspect of the blossoming relationship that concerned or confused him. When Tanner ran out of things to say, he looked at her expectantly, waiting for her opinion.
Dr. Jones smiled and said, “I don’t see the problem.”
“I never said there was one.” He crossed his arms over his chest defensively.
She didn’t speak. But her sympathetic gaze told him you didn’t have to say it.
He sighed and leaned his head back against the couch. He squeezed the pillow a little tighter, pondering this one last thing about Lance. The one little thing that was tripping him up.
“He’s always taken care of others. His brothers, his mother—what if he’s not actually into me, but just—” he didn’t finish. He couldn’t. Words became trapped in his throat.
“What if you’re just someone else to take care of?”
He nodded because she’d hit the bullseye.
To her credit, Dr. Jones didn’t dismiss his fears. She sat back and thoughtfully tapped her pen against her note pad.
“You said he was in a relationship before you.”
“Yes, for several years.”
“Did he take care of her? Was that the foundation of their relationship?”
Tanner thought it over. Even after meeting Julie the other night, Tanner hadn’t asked much about her. He hadn’t felt the need to. From Tanner’s point of view, she was just the backstory to the clutter in the guest bedroom. When he’d met Lance, he’d seemed annoyed about how things ended, but it hadn’t been much more than that, so he hadn’t dug any deeper. Yet from what he did know—
He shook his head.
“They were together for about three years. It was more for the sake of convenience than anything else, and when her career took her to New York—” he thought of how Lance had put it. Of the way he’d described their breakup. “He didn’t want to live that life.”
Dr. Jones nodded and scribbled some notes before she looked back at him.
“I won’t tell you that you’re wrong. I think there is a valid reason for your feelings. Children who’ve grown up in difficult homes and who learn to take care of others often repeat that behavior in their relationships throughout adulthood. It’s—soothing to them.”
Tanner didn’t feel reassured at all. He opened his mouth to make a comment, but she continued before he could interject.
“That in no way means you’re a project to him. It’s probably his—love language of sorts. How he shows his love to those who really matter. Same way you want to fix his entire house or help move his younger brother out of his dorm.”
Tanner blew out a breath. He understood, he really did, he just wasn’t sure it was all that reassuring.
“Does he resent them? His mother, his brothers?” she asked.
Tanner thought of the animated way in which Lance spoke about his siblings, about growing up and going to all their football games. It was never anything but positive, like he’d genuinely enjoyed it.
“No,” he replied, shaking his head.
“Then I don’t see why he would resent you.”
“But I’m not one of his brothers,” Tanner pointed out.
“Exactly. You are not an obligation. He chooses to be with you—a choice, not an obligation. That makes a world of difference in how he treats you and shows his love for you.”
He sat in silence, thinking hard about the possibility that she was right about this, and he’d been looking at it all wrong. With a soft sigh, she cocked her head to the side thoughtfully as she sought the right words to summarize Lance’s behavior in a way that would put Tanner’s heart and mind at ease.
“People like Lance—caretakers—they don’t resent the people they love. Not unless they feel the relationship is one-sided.” In her gentle, sensible way, she just handed Tanner the final piece of the puzzle he’d been looking for all along.
Tanner laughed and flopped back against the couch. “I have a feeling you and him will be the end of me, Doc!”
She laughed along with him.
“The end of broken Tanner, maybe, but the start of a much happier one. Of that, I have no doubt.” Tanner held onto those words the same way one does to those spoken by a prophet. He could have left it at that, and he almost did, but then he glanced at the clock and noticed he still had a few minutes. Noticing his hesitation, she smiled encouragingly.
“I have time,” she assured him. It wasn’t the first time she’d said this, but every other time, he’d been recalcitrant, and she’d simply been waiting him out.
Tanner sighed and returned to fidgeting with the fringed pillow.
“I don’t remember the last time I felt this way—” he said, unable to meet her gaze.
“What way specifically?”
“Happy? At peace?” In love , but he didn’t want to go there. Not because he didn’t feel that way, but because that wasn’t the issue. He knew he was falling for Lance—hell, that he’d already fallen for Lance in more ways than one. It didn’t scare him. Everything else did. But not the feelings he had for Lance.
“You’ve been through a lot,” she acknowledged sympathetically while waiting for him to complete his train of thought.
“Right—” he agreed with a nod. He wondered for a moment if he could take it all back and just walk out. He didn’t want to go down this rabbit hole. So maybe—
No. If he walked out of here with these thoughts still whirling around, he’d be a wreck all evening, and he didn’t want to bring his shit home. Not when he didn’t absolutely have to. Wasn’t he dragging enough fucking baggage around with him as it was?
“What if it’s too much pressure? He can’t be responsible for my happiness—for my peace of mind— what if—” Tanner halted as he suddenly choked on the emotions tightening his throat.
Dr. Jones’ smile softened, and she nodded, pleased with his observations and his line of questioning.
“It’s important to find sources of happiness not tied to the wishes or actions of others,” she began, addressing Tanner’s valid concerns. “However—” she paused for a moment, carefully choosing her next words. “While it’s a good thing to have your own life vest and be able to just—float around independently in the water, when someone’s been literally drowning for years—it’s also normal to offer them a raft to rest a little before throwing them back in—does that make sense?”
Tanner thought it over, trying to make connections between his life and that metaphor. He thought he might understand it. Meanwhile, she carried on.
“You were drowning, Tanner. Taking on water and fighting your damnedest not to give in to the currents—but—you weren’t just drowning in a lake, or—or a river—you were lost in the middle of the goddamned ocean during a storm. And by your own strength of character that is quite extraordinary, you have managed to survive this long. But don’t you think you deserve a little rest? Someone to ease the pressure you’re under for a little while so you can catch your breath?” Dr. Jones asked, and in all the hours he’d spent spilling his guts, it was the first time that he’d ever seen her facade slip, allowing raw emotion to show.
Tanner nodded slowly, understanding gradually dawning on him.
“You’re terrible at metaphors, Doc,” he replied, voice rough with suppressed emotion.
She flipped him off before reaching for the tissue box next to her chair. If she wiped away a stubborn tear of her own, neither of them commented on it.