CHAPTER THIRTY- ONE #2
The kind that remembered every breath they shared three weeks ago.
Najee exhaled slowly and adjusted his glasses. “Well,” he said, finally lifting his eyes to hers, “let’s begin.” She raised a brow. “Let’s.” Neither of them moved. Neither of them blinked. Najee cleared his throat, picked up his legal pad, and clicked his pen like they were strangers.
“Before we begin,” he said, voice smooth but paper-thin,
“I want to check in on last few weeks. How did Max respond to the therapist transition?”
“He’s adjusting,” Jackie replied. “He likes Dr. Ish.” Najee nodded once.
“Good. Dr. Ish works well with children who struggle with self-regulation—especially those who process best through creative expression.” He made a note.
“Max’s engagement so far is a positive indicator.
” He didn’t look at her. Not once. Something hot and wounded coiled low in Jackie’s chest spreading slow and uncomfortable.
She pressed her tongue to the roof of her mouth, fighting the urge to say something reckless.
“And how have you been coping?” he continued. “Any new stressors—”
“Oh, hol’ the fuck up.” Her voice cut through the room before she could stop it.
“We really doing this today?” Najee’s pen paused mid-stroke. His fingers tightened slightly around it before he looked up. expressionless. “Doing what?”
“This,” Jackie said, gesturing between them. “This fake-professional, how-does-that-make-you-feel bullshit. Acting like you ain’t ghost me for three weeks.” His jaw flexed once.
“I didn’t ghost you.”
“You haven’t contacted me either,” she shot back.
“And you been on weird shit ever since you came back.”
“I had a personal matter.”
“No,” she snapped. “What you had was a fucking mouth. And a phone. And you used neither.” Silence dropped like a weight.
Najee’s nostrils flared, just barely. Jackie leaned back, arms folding across her chest, trying to regroup.
But it was too late. She had already shown her hand.
And she hated herself for even caring. “You know what?” she said tightly.
“Never mind. Continue with your lil’ clinical check-in.
” Najee closed his legal pad slowly. Like he was trying not to break it in half. “You seem upset.”
“You don’t fucking say?” she shot back. “I must be hiding it real well.”
“You are,” he said evenly. “You’re deflecting.”
“Oh, we diagnosing now?” Jackie tilted her head. “Should I lay on the couch too?”
“Ms. Brown,” he began, controlled, “this is a therapeutic setting. My responsibility is to—”
“Your responsibility?” she cut in with a brittle laugh. “Your responsibility was also to show up.” His eyes sharpened. “I communicated the necessary information to the school—”
“But not to me.” Her voice cracked once. She smoothed over it immediately.
He caught it anyway. “You’re taking this personally,” he said quietly. “You’re damn right I am,” she whispered. “Because it was personal.” Najee leaned forward instinctively, forearms braced on his knees. “Jackie…” Her name slipped out without thought. Not Ms. Brown but Jackie.
Gone was the clinical distance he’d been holding onto since his return. What remained was him. Familiar and unmistakable. His voice dropped before he spoke again.
“If I’ve made you feel ignored—”
“You did.” His composure cracked in real time.
Jackie watched as his fingers tightened around the pen.
“I didn’t intend to hurt you.”
“That don’t change the fact that you did.”
“Jackie…” he tried again, voice lower, “you don’t understand—”
“Then explain it,” she snapped. “Since you so damn professional, explain why you disappeared. Explain why Max has a new therapist without warning. Explain why you can sit in a room with me and pretend like— she stopped herself. Her voice didn’t rise it trembled.
Najee’s eyes closed for a beat. When he opened them, the truth was sitting right behind his pupils.
He didn’t hide this time. “I’m having a house built from the ground up,” he said slowly, like dragging the words out of himself.
“The house should’ve been finished weeks ago.
The construction company I hired, turned out to be some money grabbing dragons.
So, I brought in a whole new team, and we finished everything.
” Jackie blinked, thrown. “That’s it?” she asked, confusion swelling in her chest. “A house issue?” He shook his head once.
“No,” he said. “That is what happened. That is not why I didn’t contact you.
” She froze. Najee looked at her, the way he had that night on her porch, when his breath touched her neck, and his restraint was hanging by a thread.
“I didn’t contact you because I needed space,” he admitted quietly.
“Not from Max.” His voice dipped. “From you.”
Jackie’s heart dropped so hard it stole the air from her lungs. “From… me?”
“Jackie, what happened that night—” he stiffened. “Shouldn’t have happened.”
Her stomach sank. “Oh.” That was all she managed. Najee’s eyes flashed with frustration.
“Not because of you either,” he corrected quickly. “And not because I didn’t want it.”
Her breath caught. He leaned forward again, forearms resting on his knees now, voice stripped of all professional and clinical polish.
“It shouldn’t have happened because I was still Max’s primary clinician.
” Jackie blinked but remained silent. “I crossed a line with you. A serious one. And the minute you got into my car that night, I knew exactly what I was doing. That’s on me Jackie.
Not you.” Jackie didn’t speak, didn’t know how.
“I couldn’t keep working with your son the same way,” he continued, voice roughening at the edges, “at least, not if I wanted to pursue anything beyond professionalism with you.” Her lips parted.
But nothing came out. “So yes,” he said, “I fell back. On purpose. To clean up the conflict of interest and make sure nothing compromised Max’s care.
I also didn’t want to compromise you any further.
” Jackie’s heart kicked hard against her ribs.
“I didn’t switch his therapist because I was done with him,” Najee added.
“I brought in Dr. Ish because he’s better suited for Max.
He’s trained differently. Meets more of his needs and he’s lighter and has a fresh set of uncompromised eyes. ”
“I’m still supervising the case.” Jackie swallowed thickly before finally finding her voice.
“You could’ve told me,” she whispered. His eyes softened, not out of pity, or condescension. Just something painfully human. “I planned to,” he said. “At our breakout session.
The one you missed.” Guilt washed over her.
“And when I got pulled into the house situation,” he continued quietly, “I didn’t want to explain something that serious over text.
You deserved to hear it face-to-face.” The Silence that sat between them felt different now.
Less hostile and more honest. Jackie sank back into the couch, bouquet shifting beside her, chest rising too fast. “So all this distance.”
she murmured, “And all that cold energy—”
“Was me trying to be ethical,” Najee finished. “Not indifferent.” She stared at him.
“But you acted like I didn’t exist.” He exhaled slowly. “I fucked up Jackie. But I knew, I if I let myself talk to you the way I wanted to… that line wouldn’t have just blurred.” His voice dropped, steady and direct. “It would’ve disappeared.” Her breath caught painfully in her throat.
Najee leaned back, hands clasped between his knees, eyes on her.
I thought distance would help me re-center,” he admitted. “Remind myself of the boundaries I’m responsible for maintaining. Of the position I hold in your son’s life.”
“Did it?” she asked quietly. He looked at her, wounded honesty in his gaze.
“No,” he said. “It made it worse.” Her throat burned. “So what you’re saying is,” she whispered, “you ghosted me for professionalism?” He flinched. But she caught it.
“I didn’t ghost you,” he said softly.
“I withdrew because I didn’t trust myself not to cross another line.”
“And you couldn’t just say that?”
“I didn’t know how.” She scoffed.
“You’re a whole ass psychiatrist.”
“That doesn’t make me perfect.”
“It makes you trained, though.”