Chapter 43
Lily
The hem of my sleeve had seen better days before I arrived at the waiting room outside the psychologist’s office. The fabric was frayed thanks to my insistent urge to pick at any loose threads. I was one tug away from unraveling more of it before Dean casually took hold of my hand.
He had been waiting for me outside the doctor’s office building when I arrived in an Uber.
Still in his navy-blue coveralls with the top half folded down to his hips and the sleeves tied around his waist. He had a lollipop in his mouth and wore a backwards baseball cap and white T-shirt, and had smiled at me like there was nothing to worry about.
Which was true — my anxiety just wasn’t aware of that.
We had been waiting for ten or so minutes since arriving, after I gave my details at the desk.
Apart from picking at my sleeve, I spent the time staring at the abstract art hanging on the walls.
I wasn’t paying attention to the details in the brush strokes.
I was too busy thinking about the next chapter of my life.
And what this one introduction to therapy was about to change.
The door of the psychologist’s office opened, and my heart skipped several beats as I straightened in my seat.
Doctor Hamdan was a stout man with a head of unruly gray curls, a friendly face, and kind brown eyes, but that still didn’t settle my nerves. I was about to share parts of my life with him.
“Lily Whitmore?” he asked as he stepped out, addressing the waiting room like Dean and I weren’t the only ones in it.
I took a breath and rose, offering the doctor a polite smile while I looped my bag over my shoulder.
“Come on in,” Hamdan smiled warmly.
I glanced at Dean.
“I’ll be right here. You’ve got this,” he said.
The words were simple but lifted my confidence by a fraction.
I headed for Doctor Hamdan’s open door, smiling again at the doctor as he welcomed me into the space.
The First of Many Big Steps, read the poster on the wall in his office.
The streets were busy, but the traffic was flowing.
Halloween was in two days, meaning décor was in full bloom in almost every storefront and business window. Coffee shops sold pumpkin spice lattes and season-themed pastries, and every so often, I would spot a street performer dressed in a ghoulish costume, entertaining a small gathering.
It was all a welcome sight when all I wanted to do was sit and ponder the last hour at Doctor Hamdan’s office. For such a small window of time, we discussed a lot in the session. Surface-level stuff that gave the doctor an idea of why I needed help.
He specialized in therapy for gun violence survivors, but he also wanted to help with my general anxiety. Which meant working through the things that triggered it: social gatherings, what James did, my parents…
No more hiding from the problems. I was facing them head-on. Soon, the scars on my body wouldn’t be ugly reminders but simply scars.
“Doctor Hamdan said we’re going to practice setting boundaries with my parents, which will be fun,” I said, breaking the silence.
Dean smiled, eyes on the road. “I’m glad you’re doin’ this. I’m proud of you.”
I took his hand and locked my fingers with his, bringing it to my lips to kiss the snake head tattooed on the back of it.
The corner of his mouth curved up again as he dared to steal his gaze from the road.
I settled our hands in my lap, thinking still as I watched the world go by. “I also want to quit my job. Not right away, but I want to start looking for work again. This time I’d tell Mom, though.”
“No more nightclubs?”
“Definitely not.” I gave myself a self-deprecating shake of the head. “I want to work somewhere that I’ll actually enjoy getting up in the mornings for. Like a bookstore, or maybe an art gallery. Somewhere where I don’t feel suffocated.”
“I’m all for that.” He squeezed my hand gently.
“Are you sure you won’t come to a meeting?” Kira pulled away from our embrace, holding me at arm’s length from her after she greeted Dean and me in the little hallway entrance of our apartment. “The whole group is really supportive.”
Dean was already in the living room, talking with Seb.
“I want to settle in with this doctor first.” I placed my hand on hers at my shoulder. “But I’ll think about it. Maybe it can be part of my next step in therapy.”
“Okay, but just know they’ll welcome you when you’re ready.” Her smile broke free as she slung one arm around my shoulder. “And, like, lots of cakes and biscuits. Some of the members like to bake.”
“That might actually convince me to come sooner,” I joked as we headed for the living room.
Five minutes later, we were all seated around the TV. Seb and Kira were in a playful debate as they set up Seb’s Switch — the debate was over where and how we would do Halloween.
Dean and I listened from the couch. Well, half listened.
I had picked up a pen from the coffee table and was idly drawing on a scrap of paper before Dean silently offered me his left wrist. I looked at him quizzically, but all he did was shrug. So, I started doodling on his skin instead.
“Don’t forget it’s Dean’s birthday on the thirty-first. He should have a say in where we celebrate,” I piped up quietly, keeping my attention on the drawing. Kira and Seb didn’t hear, not that it bothered me.
“As long as it’s with you,” Dean muttered into my ear. “I’m still down for that box wine and burgers by the Hudson, by the way.”
“And give up the opportunity to witness us all drunk together?” I mused softly, continuing the drawing.
“I think if we’re all drunk, there won’t be a lot of witnessin’ going on.”
I smiled as I added the final touches to the drawing. It was of two small birds flying. The entire thing was no bigger than two inches and sat right below the heel of his palm.
“Why birds?” Dean asked so that only I heard.
“I don’t know, but they’re sort of flying free in a way. Maybe I’m subconsciously trying to manifest something for you.” I huffed a laugh.
Dean took a closer look at the drawing, studying the details with an impressed little smile in the corner of his mouth.
My smile faded. His eventual arrest was going to tear my heart out.
When he looked at me to say something else about the birds, he stopped himself after he saw my face. I tried to smile again, but it didn’t work as well as I hoped.
Dean’s eyebrows gently rose, and his eyes softened.
Without bringing attention to us, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer.
It was a casual enough gesture that Kira and Seb took no notice to ask if something was wrong — I had heard that question enough since the day of my panic attack.
A hug for now was enough.
“I’m not gone yet.” The words were barely a whisper.
I nodded and wiped the tears from my eyes before Seb and Kira could see.
Their debate had moved from Halloween plans to dinner discussions.
“So,” Kira said, getting to her feet. “Chinese or pizza?”
“Pizza sounds good,” I said, accepting the distraction.
Kira snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “You read my mind. Pizza it is.”
“Do we not get a say?” Seb asked as he linked controllers.
“I’m down for pizza,” Dean shrugged.
“You were going to pick pizza anyway, Seb,” Kira said as she headed for her phone on the kitchen counter. “You suggested it.”
“Eh. Sue me for enjoying banter with you,” Seb grinned innocently.
Kira rolled her eyes in amusement before dialing the number for the local pizza place using the menu pinned to the fridge.
She began the order with her preference — gourmet barbecued chicken pizza — and then pointed to Seb for him to say his.
He cupped his hands around his mouth and sang out, “Supreme!”
Kira laughed into the phone. “Did you get that? Okay, cool—” She pointed at Dean next.
“Prosciutto. Extra mozzarella.”
Kira nodded once, repeating that into the phone as she looked at me expectantly.
“Hawaiian, please. And garlic bread.”
As Kira finished up the order, adding drinks and desserts, Dean hummed in displeasure.
I looked at him. “What?”
Seb took a seat on the arm of the couch. “Now you’ve done it, Lil.”
“Done what?” I laughed a little as I straightened up so I could look at them both.
“This might be our deal breaker.” There was a slight hint of sarcasm in Dean’s tone. He slung his arm along the back of the couch behind me while he lifted a single brow.
“Pineapple on pizza?” I asked.
“Doesn’t go with tomatoes.” His eyes were locked on me like we were the only two in the room.
I raised a shoulder. “But it’s sweet and salty.”
Kira walked over, stopping beside Seb to watch us curiously. “What’s going on?”
“They’re having their first big argument.” Seb wrapped his arm around her waist, but watched Dean and me intently with a goofy smile on his face.
“The sweetness overpowers the rest of the flavors. It ruins the pizza, Lily,” Dean continued, lifting a hand for emphasis.
“Oh, god,” Seb whispered. “He’s starting to use his hands.”
It was me who rolled my eyes next. “Okay. It doesn’t ruin it, Dean. It’s also the only time I enjoy pineapple, oddly enough.”
Dean ground his jaw as he shook his head, despite the glint of humor in his eyes.
I smiled sweetly at him.
“Dean, you aren’t gonna win this. Think of it this way…
” Seb stood and walked around to the back of the couch to squeeze Dean’s shoulders.
“Lily is like the pineapple to your pizza. She’s sweet, you’re salty.
From a distance, no one would guess that it works, but it kinda does.
” He lowered his head beside Dean’s, who sighed as he listened to his friend. “Face it, bro. Accept the pineapple.”
“That was the best analogy I’ve ever heard,” I said. “Thank you, Seb.”
“He’s a pineapple sympathizer,” Dean deadpanned. “Of course he’d pick the side of the pineapple.”
I feigned a pout and placed a hand on Dean’s knee. “I know a good doctor if you need to talk about it.”
Dean’s brows shot up in surprise while Kira burst into laughter.
“Too soon?” I cringed.
Seb, grinning widely, moved along the back of the couch to wrap his arms around my shoulders instead. “Don’t change, Lil’.”