Chapter 33
Between working, Livi, and going to my first therapy appointment, three weeks disappeared before I noticed.
I’d finally done it.
Somehow, despite my insides physically turning in on themselves and my legs going numb the second I arrived, I saw a therapist.
And truthfully? The whole ordeal left me so riddled with anxiety that I considered quitting before the session began.
Obviously not the healthy choice.
My therapist, Dr. Lillian Kooper, picked up on my discomfort instantly. Unlike the therapist I had seen in the past, Dr. Kooper didn’t push me into opening up.
She didn’t try to force me to tell her my issues straight away; instead, she said it was up to me when I felt comfortable enough to trust her.
Simply, she helped me vocalize my turbulent feelings swirling inside me.
She talked me back from the ledge of a panic attack, walking me through different coping mechanisms and offering to write me a prescription for anti-anxiety meds.
As soon as she mentioned tablets, I freaked out.
I couldn’t go back on Xanax again. One of those little bastards and I’d be straight back to the beginning.
I didn’t want to be powerless to a drug again.
That’s when the dam wall inside me broke. I told her everything, every vice that controlled me since being a boy, to every mistake I made that led me straight to her.
Kooper’s unwavering patience and refusal to let me leave until I was calmer and able to breathe again made scheduling the second appointment that tiny bit easier.
One session, that’s all I’d done.
And although there was still a hell of a path to crawl down, that first step felt like the largest.
Seeing Livi after the session made the whole thing worth it.
Although I wasn’t going to therapy for her, she played a massive part in making my decision clearer.
All my life, I told myself that I’d probably die alone. No one deserved to have someone so fundamentally broken, so fucked in their own head, in their life.
But with Livi, I struggled to imagine my life without her.
She was who I wanted to see every morning when I woke up and the last thing before I closed my eyes at night. I wanted to share every win, every loss, every single thing with her.
Although I always planned—one day—to bite the bullet and get some form of professional help, it was only because I thought I had to.
I had to do it for Adam. For Frederic. For Calvin. For Penelope. For my Grand-mère. For everyone I let down and harmed in some shape or form over the years.
Livi, on the other hand, made me want to get help for me.
She may not have realized, but she bled the life back into my soul.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to help you pack?”
Tipping her head back, Livi laughed. “That’s a funny joke.”
“I thought you said my organizational skills were getting better?”
“They are, but when it comes to packing, I like to be in full control. Getting everything in my tiny suitcase is my Olympic sport, and I have it down to a fine art.”
“Uh-huh.” I took a long sip of coffee from my to-go cup while reading along the spines of the books on display.
To take her mind off both her latest visit with Nicholas and the fact that we were due to fly to Montana in the morning, I brought her to a local independent bookstore.
Who knew such places existed in New York?
A little hidden gem in the busy city.
“You still haven’t packed, and the flight is first thing in the morning.”
She studied the blurb of the book in her hand. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m well aware. Morning flights should be illegal, by the way. Getting up at four in the morning is a crime.”
“So, seeing as we are on a little bit of a deadline, I thought you might want my help.”
She arched her brow. “By help me, do you mean trying your best to distract me by kissing my neck and whispering filth in my ear?”
I feigned shock. “I would never do that.”
“Tell that to the pile of clothes I refolded this morning after you fucked me mercilessly on them last night.”
A couple of women nearby giggled behind their hands.
Despite my cheeks flaring, I said, “Pretty sure there was a sock or two that didn’t have you writhing on top of them. Definitely a pair of pants that weren’t covered in your sweat either. Seems only fair every piece of clothing gets the same treatment.”
Lazily, she lifted her gaze, and her pupils dilated.
Having sex in a public bookstore was a bad idea, right? Morally, ethically, and legally bad.
But goddammit, if she kept looking at me like that, I was about to be arrested for public indecency.
“I’d invite you over to help me pack.” Her attention dropped to my mouth before bouncing back up. “However, you have work in less than an hour.”
“I could always phone in sick,” I toyed.
“Oh yeah, that’ll definitely help with your promotion.”
“What are you talking about? Zara loves me now.”
A lie.
She didn’t love me, nor could I stretch to say she liked me. But I was starting to think she didn’t hate me either.
It felt like an indifference to me more than anything now, and I could work with that.
Hope remained indifferent.
“It’s your last shift for a week,” Livi continued. “Then it’ll be you, me, and one bedroom for a whoooole week in Montana.”
And the rest of the fucking wedding party will be there too.
Whoever decided one day wasn’t enough for a wedding needed a kick in the teeth.
Five days of activities before the wedding, which ran across two days. Two damn days!
Livi offered to let me stay in New York and join her in Montana for the last two days of the week. But, like fuck that was happening.
Hell would freeze first before I left her alone to deal with her entire family, her ex-boyfriend and his friends, and her ex-could-have-been-in-laws.
It didn’t matter that it was likely going to be a week of torture; I refused to let her do it alone.
“Okay, this one right here has been on my Tbr list for far too long.” She slipped the book into her basket. “I’ve already read the first two in the series, been delaying the last book because I don’t want the story to end.”
“What are the books about?”
“Besides the juicy, toe-curling smut?”
“Wait a second,” I acted surprised, “are you telling me there is more than just smut in the books you read?”
“Sometimes.” Her kissable mouth twitched at the corners.
“The books are about love. It’s brutalness and raw honesty, how it not only steals but rewards.
And that no matter what life throws at you, love always finds a way to conquer and consume your very soul, especially when you’re least expecting it. ”
FUCCCCCCK!
I was late for my flight.
The Uber I prebooked cancelled, leaving me stranded at my apartment, desperately trying to hail down a cab at four in the morning.
Firing off a text to Livi to assure her that I was on my way, I contemplated driving my own car and abandoning it near the airport.
If it got towed and impounded, fuck it.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to resort to giving up my car, as a cab driver finally took pity on me and stopped.
Bundling into the backseat, my phone started to vibrate. I answered it without looking at the screen, assuming it to be Livi. “I am on my way now—”
However, I was sorely mistaken.
“Bonjour, frère.” Frederic’s voice chilled me to the bone. “Don’t you dare hang up on me.”
Tempting.
Of all the days, why now?
“Frederic, I can’t talk right now,” I said over the sound of my own heartbeat. “I have a flight to catch, and I’m already running late.”
“You have time to talk. Your flight isn’t for another hour.”
“How do you know?”
“Your girlfriend informed me about your little trip when she contacted me,” he remained deadpan. “Nice of you to give her my number without asking.”
“Ah, did I not tell you? My mistake.”
A long sigh sounded down the speaker.
“Look, I knew you could help her,” I stared down at my lap, my fingers tapping quickly against my leg. “I planned on calling you, things kept coming up.”
“Menteur.”
He was half-wrong.
Eventually, I was going to ring him. After a couple more therapy sessions and once I got the promotion, then I’d call him.
“How have you been?” I dared to ask. “How’s Penny and Orla?”
Silence echoed back. After several beats, three words rang through my eardrums. “I know, Elliott.”
My body turned arctic cold.
“Know what? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t do that,” Frederic said, his tone unwaveringly calm. “Don’t insult us both and act stupid with me. Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
I kept the phone to my ear, channeling the calm that Dr. Kooper taught me. Centering myself, I started to think about what I could see, hear, touch, and taste.
I could see the cab driver, the awakening sun peeking between skyscrapers, and a Polaroid of two children attached to the cab’s dashboard.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said past the rock expanding in my airways.
“Were you truly planning on keeping this from me forever?”
Hearing next.
What could I hear? Radio, some country singer strumming his guitar. Hum of traffic driving past us.
And my brother’s voice ringing like the aftermath of a bomb through my head.
“We both know you’re smarter than this.”
“Look, Frederic, I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about.” The lie thickly coated my tongue, making it harder to breathe.
“Fine, have it your way,” he sighed. “Why is your trust fund empty, Elliott?”
An invisible hand gripped my throat while another reached under my ribcage and tried to rip out my lungs.
Frederic deserved the truth, even if it killed me telling him.
But when I tried to speak, nothing came out. I was frozen, motionless, unable to do a goddamn thing except listen to my brother plead for the truth.
“Why did you leave Canada? The real reason this time. I don’t want to hear any more bullshit.” Frederic’s voice cracked. “Answer me, s’il te pla?t.”
Next sense: touch.
My trousers, the empty leather seat beside me, and my phone that I wanted to throw out the passenger window.
“Merde, why are you making this harder than it needs to be?” Frederic cleared his throat thickly. “I’m going to send you some information that I think might help.”
I said nothing.
“There’s a facility in New York that should work. I’ve spoken to the owner, and she’s assured me that they can help you. It’ll be intense, but they know what they’re doing when it comes to addictions.”
The whole world outside the back seat of the cab fell away with that one word: addictions.
He knows.
But how? How did he figure it out?
Unless…
My voice was barely a whisper, “Did she tell you?”
“It doesn’t matter how I found out,” he replied bluntly. “What is important is getting you the help you need, Elliott.”
“I don’t need help.”
My brother ignored me. “The facility is paid for; all you need to do is go there for one month.”
“How did you find—”
He cut me off. “The email with all the details should already be in your inbox. Once you’re back from Montana, I want you to go.”
“I’m already seeing a shrink. Everything is under control right now.”
“One session with a therapist who doesn’t even specialize in addiction is hardly enough.”
Fuck me, how the hell did he know about that, too?
I rested back against the headrest. This couldn’t be happening. This was some fucked up nightmare, and I was actually still back in my apartment sleeping.
“As for your trust fund.”
Acidic bile singed coated my tongue.
“A new trust fund has been set up, and all the money has been replaced,” Frederic said matter-of-factly. “Once you’re ready, we can talk about you getting access to it.”
Exactly what I thought he’d do.
Frederic was a cold, ruthless bastard. Traits he was infamous for. However, when it came to the people he cared about, there wasn’t a single thing in this world he wouldn’t do.
This was what I feared all along, that the second he found out the truth—from me, not through a middle-fucking-man—that he wouldn’t be angry.
Hell, he barely sounded disappointed.
Instead, he wanted to fix it.
I wanted him to shout at me. I longed for him to call me worthless, to tell me how badly I fucked up, and that he hated me.
I needed him to not be okay with all of this because it wasn’t okay.
He gave me the foundations that many people would kill for to start and build a good life. That money was supposed to buy me a house, a car, let me travel the world, build a future, and never worry about money.
“Please get rid of the new trust fund,” I begged quietly. “With this new job, I’ll be able to pay it all back to you in a few years.”
“You don’t have to pay me back. The money wasn’t mine, it was yours, Elliott.”
“And look what I have to show for it.”
“People make mistakes, that’s life. Shit happens. It’s what we do after the mistakes that matter, petit frère.”
“And some mistakes are too big to forgive, Frederic. This one is too big for you just to accept.”
“I won’t lie to you, I am disappointed.” An uneven breath rattled down the phone.
“But let me make something clear, that disappointment does not lie with you, it lies with myself. For years, I’ve been too wrapped up in my own misery, my own mess, that I let you down.
I should’ve noticed something was wrong, that you were struggling. ”
I spent my whole life hiding my problems, and I became the master of deception.
Hardly his fault that he didn’t notice. After all, how could he have seen something that I never allowed anyone to see?
“I only wish I’d been the big brother you deserved.”
His words punched me square in the gut.
The cab pulled up outside the airport. Paying and gathering my bag, I got out and, without thinking, headed straight inside, beelining for security.
“Your flight back from Montana is next Monday, right? We’ll talk more then,” Frederic said as he hung up, and true to his word, an email notification from him awaited me.
He knew every-fucking-thing.
And there was only one way he knew. I only trusted one person with all that information, one person who I thought would never break my trust,
When I spotted Livi waving at me from the other side of security, a fresh wave of nausea swept across me as I knew I was looking at the source.