Chapter 11
A few weeks later
Kiera Lane
Ididn’t have much experience with therapy, but I already knew I never wanted to have a session unless it was with Doc.
I’d been coming to him for three weeks now, and I was taking it seriously.
The first week, I’d had three sessions with him—mostly to describe everything that’d gone down. And now, I was at two sessions a week.
He looked to be James’s age, and he was so charming, calm, nice, and firm.
Like, he was super understanding, all while he wouldn’t let me make excuses or bargain with my recovery.
Issues needed to be dealt with head on, regardless of pace.
I could go slowly or quickly, whatever I could handle, as long as I didn’t avoid problems altogether.
I kinda wanted to know his real name, but I respected that he worked under an alias for safety reasons.
James had divulged that Doc’s family had started the Hillcroft Group in the first place.
This was their agency. But unlike most of the people I’d seen in this building, Doc didn’t dress like an operator. He rocked slacks and button-downs.
“And what about going to the grocery store?” Doc asked.
I blew out a breath and smiled ruefully. “I did go back, but not to the part of the store where I almost panicked. I’m not even sure that display is still there. It was a promotional thing, you know.”
It’d been such an insignificant event. I’d gone to the store to make dinner for my FaceTime date with James, and I’d freaked the hell out when I’d ended up in an elaborate display of Middle Eastern cooking.
They’d had a special that week or something, so a corner of the store had been dedicated to seasonings, prepackaged meals, free samples—which I usually loved like no other—and whatever else.
They’d even decorated that section to give it just a hint of a bazaar feel.
Doc nodded slowly. “That’s unfortunately something you need to take into consideration going forward.
What sets you off can be the slightest thing.
But that doesn’t mean it won’t get better—or that you should stop going places because something might happen.
” He paused and opened a drawer in his desk.
“How is your father doing? Have you seen him this week?”
I shifted in my seat. I wasn’t the biggest fan of the chairs in his office. They were kind of hard.
“I stayed with him from Sunday to Monday,” I replied. “He’s doing better, I think. He’s getting used to the idea of my moving here, and he didn’t react too weirdly when I told him that James and I are dating. He got a little grumpy and said at least James isn’t Navy.”
Doc chuckled.
“And I kindly hinted that he should check out the housing market for himself,” I added.
He placed a notebook in front of him. “How did he take that?”
“He got all quiet,” I admitted. “But it means the idea’s in his head now. He’ll mull it over. Then some more and some more.”
He inclined his head. “I’d imagine he’s got a lot going on. And that he’s still relieved to have you home.”
Undoubtedly.
“Our last session, you mentioned that the Feds were finally done bothering you,” Doc went on. “Do you remember what I said would happen once they closed the case?”
Aw, crap.
“You said something silly about my taking the next step and journaling.”
“Correct.” He smiled and held up the notebook for me, so I leaned forward and accepted it.
“When a case is solved, the dust starts to settle. Some memories will always be with you. Some details will fade until they’re forgotten entirely.
” He pointed to the notebook. “I want you to write a few sentences in that every day. If you dreamed something, if you saw something while you were running errands, if you registered a sound that reminded you of your time in Afghanistan—anything, big or small. It’ll help us identify or predict potential triggers. ”
I chewed on my lip and nodded. What he said made sense—and I would do it—but the precaution started to feel excessive.
I’d had a single almost-panic attack, and sure enough, I’d become overwhelmed once or twice when I’d had one too many impressions.
Other than that, though, I was doing all right.
The sessions helped immensely. I slept well, usually in James’s bed.
I had some job interviews lined up. I talked to Dad every day, if I wasn’t there to have dinner with him or spend the night in his gym/guest room. I’d had coffee with some friends…
Most of all, I loved talking to James. With him in Ecuador, we texted and called a lot. He was basically on standby and staying in a hotel, so we had plenty of time.
I gestured to the notebook. “James will give me the right amount of pity for this when I talk to him tonight.”
That made Doc chuckle. “Absolutely, he will. He’s one of my more challenging operators.”
Zero surprise. “He likes you, though. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have recommended you to me.”
He smiled. “He’s a good man. How are things going between you two, by the way?”
I sighed, so beyond smitten and infatuated that I was slowly moving into much more serious territory.
“I’m falling for him,” I admitted. “I know you advised us to take things slowly, and we really are. I mean, we’re currently on different continents.
We’re just…you know, getting to know each other.
Talking a lot…” Maybe some FaceTime sex too…
“He, um, he accused me of turning his condo into a ‘chick’s paradise’ because I bought a single bouquet of fresh tulips for the kitchen bar. ”
Doc shook his head in amusement. “Having been to his place, I can see how flowers would brighten everything up to the point where he won’t recognize himself.”
For real! Good God, man, it was okay to put a picture on the wall or buy a towel that wasn’t gray.
His entire two-bedroom condo ran in white, black, and gray, and every item of furniture could fit into a large closet.
His spare bedroom had a single kettlebell and an empty moving box in it. What the hell?
He did have a big, comfy bed, though. It was apparently new too. He blamed his old one for messing up his back.
“He’s gonna freak out when he sees the scented candle I put on the coffee table,” I said.
In sheer protest, I’d bought condoms that were blue. I needed some color in my life—and we needed to stop being reckless about protection. So far, so good. But yeah. He was gonna roll on one of those blue suckers the moment he came home.
“To be a fly on the wall when he sees that,” Doc laughed. “Stand firm. He needs someone like you in his life.”
I smiled.
“Have you started looking for your own place, or will you and Hyatt come up with another solution?” he asked next.
I had actually begun my search, not that I was enjoying it. “I’ve looked around a little, and I don’t know how it’s going to work. It’s so insanely expensive in NoVa.”
“It is.”
“Dad wants me closer, of course,” I went on, “and James said I might as well stay in his condo—which…I’m not sure he knew what he was offering when he said that. Like, I think he was more tossing out an idea to help me, rather than asking me to move in with him. If that makes sense.”
Doc nodded. “You would hardly be the first person in town who needs a roommate or two. It’s easy to go with someone you already know and care for.”
But…?
Obviously, the thought had occurred to me. Without a doubt, I was going to need at least one roommate if I wanted to afford rent around here, and it went without saying that I’d rather steal James’s second bedroom—but also half his bed.
I knew it was too soon. Way, way, way too soon.
“It’s not a good idea, is it?” I asked hesitantly.
He released a breath and leaned back in his seat.
“That’s not for me to say, Kiera. We live in the real world, yes?
In which you need a place to live. It certainly feels like the simplest fix—for you to stay with him.
You’re dealing with your trauma in a healthy way too, and you don’t suffer from crippling panic attacks or night terrors.
” He trailed off for a moment, and I waited for the but.
“I will always recommend caution, though. Regardless of the state of your mental health, you’ve been through a lot, and you don’t know yet how things will progress.
What if you take a turn for the worse? What if something suddenly triggers those panic attacks?
What if you end up feeling caged in by feelings you developed because Operator Hyatt became the face of freedom and rescue? ”
My shoulders slumped, and I was overcome with a feeling of defeat—even though much of what he said, while making perfect sense, didn’t feel true.
I hadn’t latched on to James because he’d flown me to freedom.
I didn’t view him as some flawless hero.
He was a wonderful man, and I…I adored him.
I found him funny and sweet and… My feelings were developing as I got to know him better.
“With that said, we never know what’s going to happen,” Doc told me.
“We can’t predict the future, and I don’t want you to stop living your life.
If you and James can be mindful of your recovery…
” He shrugged slightly. “This is a situation in which only you can determine what works. If it feels right and you’ve thought things through properly—who knows, maybe this will work out perfectly. ”
Nuance was so damn overrated sometimes. Just give me a yes or no.
“One more thing, though,” he said. “If you’re looking for outside answers to this, there’s a possibility you don’t trust yourself at the moment, due to what you’ve lived through. Or perhaps there’s a voice in your head telling you to slow down—in which case you might want to listen.”
Well, shit.
I bit at my thumbnail and tapped my foot against the floor.