Rose
“How are we today, ?”
Here he goes with the dreaded we again. “ I’m fine. How are you, Joe?” I don’t bother to look at him as I speak.
I’ve been in this room enough times that I could maneuver blindly without bumping into anything. Maybe Joe doesn’t see our relationship as a window, but I do. I know he can see me, but does he realize I can see him as well?
That as observant as I am, I’ve picked up on the many quirks of Dr. Joe Brown.
“As good as always,” he answers easily enough but he fidgets with the frame of his glasses in a way that I don’t usually see.
“Are you sure?”
He drops his hand, clears his throat as he meets my gaze, and nods. “Quite sure. But I’d like to discuss something with you.”
Why the dramatics?
“Isn’t that why we’re here? All I’ve been doing for the past three years is discussing things with you, Joe. The day you bring me in here to play hopscotch will be the day I’m genuinely at a loss for words.”
He cracks a small smile but it’s fleeting.
Nothing at all what Abel offers. And my reaction to this bland smirk is nowhere near the warmth I feel when I see Abel’s smile.
But Joe likes to joke; enjoys making light of the words that we often volley between us. So the lack of engagement makes me sit up a little straighter.
“What is it?” I whisper the question, afraid of this man who holds my fate in his hands. I hate it. I hate how itchy it feels to not be the master of my life. No matter what he says, I’m his and no one cares.
“I just want to warn you about your new friendship…”
My brows are drawn by the end of his sentence. “Why? I haven’t done anything to him or anyone else. He seems to be helping me, if anything.” I grit my teeth. I don’t want to say more and risk Joe seeing the intensity of my feelings.
I can’t give him more power than he already has.
“Believe me when I say I have your best interests at heart. But I want to put things in perspective for you, Rosamunde.”
I clench my fist at my full name and he takes off his glasses.
“In all the time you’ve been here, your progress has been minimal. You refuse to partake in treatment options while Abel readily accepts his. Abel is already leaps and bounds ahead of you on the road to recovery,” he explains, as if he’s attempting to pit us against one another.
“That’s because there’s nothing wrong with Abel,” I cry out and stand. And maybe there’s nothing wrong with me, but I know normal people don’t walk around wondering how many ways each person they encounter can die.
Joe flinches at my sudden movement and I hate it more than I ever thought I would. Because in spite of my desire to do so, I’ve never harmed him. But he still sees me as a monster.
I sit back down, ignoring the pounding of my heart in my chest, my leg now shaking.
“I want to make sure you don’t get so attached that when he leaves you lash out.” He murmurs the words, his hands clasped before him on the desk. But I hardly even see him.
When he leaves…when he leaves…
Those aren’t words I want to hear right now.
“It isn’t like he’s leaving tomorrow, Joe.” I cross my arms and sit back in my chair, trying to make light of his words to throw him off the scent of my impending adoration. A little crush, that’s all this is.
“True, yes. But I’m saying this now, in the beginning. Listen to me?—”
“I was never any good at listening.” I stand and move toward the door, but I know he has to agree to end the session before our time is up. If I walk out, I could face time in solitary. I clench my jaw for a moment before turning back to look at him. “May I leave?” The question is bitter as I spit it out, hating the need to ask for permission.
He stares at me as I squeeze the doorknob. When he waves his hand, I rush out of the room.
I don’t bother to shut the door behind me for the next cattle member that has to spend an hour with him.