To Be Loved
Aviana
“Aviana, wake up. You’re having another dream.” The voice echoes faintly in my mind. Slowly, I open my eyes and find Scarlet standing over me. Startled, I jump.
“Sorry, girl, didn’t mean to scare you,” she says, her tone casual but tinged with concern. “You were dreaming again. You mumbled something about Maverick and Nightshade?”
“I’m fine. It was nothing,” I mutter, trying to shake the haze from my mind.
Scarlet smirks but steps back. “Do you need me to call Cade to help you work through… whatever this is?”
“No,” I reply, groaning as I rub my temples. “I have a session with him today—” My eyes widen as realization hits. “Oh my gosh, I’m already late! Why didn’t you wake me up?”
“It’s not my job,” she shrugs, a hint of playfulness in her voice as she turns and walks away.
I leap out of bed, my heart racing. The rush to get ready should be my focus, but something in my chest tightens at the thought of seeing Cade. The memory of his anger in the office—the way he’d lashed out at me—is still too fresh.
I rush to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in a futile attempt to shake off the unease that’s settling deeper inside me. The chill of the water hits, but it only brings me back to that place, the tub, the dark thoughts after everything Maverick did.
Was last night just a dream? Or something worse?
I stare at my reflection for a long moment, my mind spinning. I don’t know if I can face Cade today, not after how he reacted. I want to talk, I need to, but that anger—his anger—lingers. And I don’t know how to walk into that room and act like everything is fine.
I can’t think about that right now. I have to go. I have to get through it.
But the idea of walking into his office, facing his cold, distant eyes, fills me with a deep, aching hesitation.
I need to talk to Nightshade. I need to know who he really is.
***
“Good morning, Aviana,” Cynthia greets me with her usual cheer as I enter the building.
“Morning, Cynthia,” I reply quickly. “I’m late for my session with Dr. Brenner. Can you let him know I’m here?”
“Sure thing, hon. Have a seat. I’ll let him know.”
I take a seat, my heartbeat already pounding. Yesterday’s session had been tense, and now I was late. Why am I so nervous? Cade has never hurt me.
“Avi, come on in,” his voice calls, calm but commanding. Hearing him use my nickname makes my chest tighten.
I grab my journal and the light flannel I’d brought, following him to his office. The morning chill had been sharp when I stepped out of the cabin earlier, but now my nerves provided all the warmth I didn’t need.
“Good morning,” Cade says, shutting the door and motioning to the couch at the back of his office. “How’d you sleep last night?”
I hesitate, fidgeting with a button on my flannel draped over my arm. “I guess I slept fine. Scarlet woke me up, though. She said I was dreaming again. Mumbling.”
“What were you mumbling about? Do you remember?”
Embarrassment flushes through me, and I drop my gaze. “Maverick,” I say quietly.
Cade nods, his expression softening. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really,” I answer, shifting uncomfortably. “If we don’t have to, that is.” Then, hesitantly, I add, “Cade, about yesterday…”
“I was upset with the situation, Avi—not you,” he interrupts gently. “I didn’t mean to scare you. As your therapist, I should’ve handled my emotions better. And as your therapist…” He pauses, his tone growing more personal, “I shouldn’t get attached. But you’re… different.”
My breath catches, and I blink up at him.
“The moment I bumped into you that first day, I saw the sadness in your eyes,” he continues, his voice steady but earnest. “From that moment, I wanted to protect you from any more darkness. You have this light, Avi—a way of attracting people to you.”
“That’s not always a good thing,” I interject sharply. “Some people I have attracted only made my life worse.”
“I didn’t mean it like that,” he says firmly. “You attract people with your kindness, your warmth. You’re an elementary school teacher for a reason, aren’t you? Why did you choose teaching?”
I pause, swallowing hard. “I wanted a place to belong. I wanted to create a place for others to belong. I’ve been through hell, Cade. No one saved me from it—none of my teachers at school even noticed. They never helped me.”
“But did you ask for help?” he asks gently.
“No, but that shouldn’t matter,” I reply, my voice trembling. “You’re a therapist. You can tell when someone says they’re fine, but they’re not. Why couldn’t they see that in me? Why didn’t they ask?”
“Avi,” he says softly, “would you have told them the truth if they had?”
“Maybe not,” I admit, tears prickling my eyes. “I was ashamed, embarrassed. But isn’t that the point? That’s what I do for my students now. I look out for the ones like me. I try to be their safe place because I never had one.”
Cade nods, his expression full of understanding. “You’ve taken your pain and turned it into compassion. You’re their safe haven because you never had one. ”
Tears spill over despite my efforts to hold them back. “No one saved me,” I whisper. “No one helped me.”
Cade leans forward, his voice steady and firm. “Then let me help you save yourself, Avi. Let me show you how to take back control of your life. You deserve to be free from the memories that haunt you.”
“But what if —” I choke out. “What if all I ever wanted was for someone to hold me, to tell me it’s going to be okay? What if all I wanted was to feel loved, to be wanted the way I deserve?”
The tears fall freely now, and I bury my face in my hands.
Cade moves around his desk, kneeling in front of me. His hands rest gently on my shoulders. “Avi, look at me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
Reluctantly, I lift my head. The hurt in his eyes mirrors my own.
“You are lovable,” he says, his voice breaking slightly. “Anyone who gets to love you will be the luckiest person on this planet. Their life will be brighter because you’re in it. But you won’t see that until you start standing up for yourself—the child you used to be, the woman you are now.”
I gasp as he pulls me into an embrace, holding me while I sob against his shoulder. At this point, I can’t imagine there are any tears left in me, but they keep coming.
For the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone.