Chapter Sixteen #3
“I have someone whom I’ve trusted with my mental health for years now,” she suggests.
“I was a little skeptical at first because I’d wanted to be connected with a female therapist, but…
I don’t know, there’s just something about the guy I’ve been seeing through this tele-therapy app I use—he’s amazing.
Would therapy be something you’d want to look into? ”
“I don’t know. I don’t want to be pumped full of anti-depressants or whatever. Nothing against anyone who uses them and finds help with them, but I heard they can kind of zone you out—”
“I’m not on any medications,” she notes, interrupting my train of thought.
“Brooks doesn’t prescribe anything. He’s just there to talk to, and trust me, he is an amazing listener.
That’s what took me so long in the bathroom, by the way.
I texted him to let him know that I had a giant breakthrough tonight, and that I’m ecstatic to tell him about everything that’s gone on today at our next session. ”
She beams at me, squashing all the doubt I had before that the shock had worn off, and that she suddenly had regrets.
Then, she goes on, seemingly excited to gloat about her amazing therapist. “He gets a little busier this time of year—the summer—because he runs a grief camp for kiddos or something, but the next time I meet with him, I could totally check in and see if he could take on another patient, now that camp season has ended. If not, at the very least, he might know of someone who could…”
I take a minute to mull that over. I’ve never been one to want to seek out therapy or anything like that because—well, I don’t know—before the accident, I never had to.
My life felt like this epic fever dream of all these amazing things: I was married to my soulmate, we had this fantastic little family, everything was going so fuckin’ good…
until I had this perfunctory failure of judgement that cost me just about all of that, save for still having Cam.
Which, honestly, thank fuck I still have him, because without that kid, I’d be completely hopeless.
Now? I never even considered seeking out therapy because of all the goddamn hoops I have to jump through trying to communicate.
I don’t care what they say—that language should never be a barrier to receiving medical or mental health treatment—it fuckin’ is.
The stone-cold (shitty as hell) truth of it is, access is limited when the world is designed with little consideration for those who are differently abled.
“You don’t have to decide anything tonight,” Lauren adds, breaking through my mental swirl of grievances. “It’s been a long day, and I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted. Just, I don’t know, keep it in mind.” She pecks my cheek with a kiss.
I offer her a soft grin back. “Okay. I’ll think about it. You seem quite fond of him, this B-R-O-O-K-S.”
She titters. “Well, besides Marcus and my parents, he’s the only one I’ve ever trusted all my trauma with. Now, you’re in my little circle of trust too,” she hums, sifting her fingers through my hair. “Is it too gushy of me to say ‘I love you’ again?”
I shake my head. “I’m pretty sure I’ll never get sick of hearing you say those three words.” I hold my hand up, signing, “I love you.”
She presses her matching hand up to mine, kissing me on the lips this time. “This has been an amazing weekend,” she hums on my lips. “I wish it didn’t have to end.”
By the time we make our way back to the campsite and quietly slip back into my tent, I notice my phone lit up with an incoming text to our “Poop Deck Partners” group chat. For the record, Gannett named it.
Cap
Not sure if either of you mateys have had your eyes on the weather at all, but the day after tomorrow looks like we’re due to get some bad weather.
Tropical storm or some bullshit down South is supposed to make its way up here.
Wanted to give you both a heads up that we might not be going out Tuesday morning.
Marcus
Yarrgh, looks like these pirates will be landlubbers for the day, then? No pillaging the lobster pots, I presume?
Cap
Nah. Too risky. Can’t afford to have the Coast Guard out saving our asses.
Marcus
Much appreciated, good sir. I look forward to sleeping in.
Me
Thanks for the head’s up, Cap.
Cap
Figured I’d let you know in advance, since you were both out partying this weekend with your respective Laurens. That’s still weird, BTW, that you’re both with chicks named Lauren…
Lauren and I both smirk at each other, reading over the texts.
Me
Yeah, small world.
Marcus
What are the odds, indeed… *thoughtful face emoji*
I can hear Marcus snickering from his tent, next to ours. Lauren giggles in response.
“You’re not going to tell Gannett that there’s only one Lauren?” she whispers to me.
I shake my head. “It’s kind of funny letting Gannett scratch his head over it. He’s fun to mess with.”
Would blow his ever-loving mind even further if he found out that things seem to be moving in the direction of there being more between me Marcus and me as well.
But there lies the ultimate question: would Marcus ever be okay with us being out to the public together as a part of a throuple?
And, if not, will I be okay with that—living in secrecy?