For all I know, Cole is hooking up with Vanessa. Or Andrea. Or, god forbid, both of them at the same time. That thought slices painfully through me. I think it’s entirely possible that the omelet I just wolfed down in record time is going to make an unexpected reappearance this evening.
Watching me through thinly veiled eyes, Sammy sweeps her tongue slowly across her teeth. And like any good therapist, she allows her carefully pointed questions and my eye opening answers to marinate within my mind until the ugly ramifications have fully set in.
I’m kind of hating Sammy right now because it has become oh-so-apparent that I inadvertently sabotaged my relationship with Cole.
Chapter Twenty-One
The rest of the week leading up to Thanksgiving break flies by at break neck speed. There are papers to hand in (which actually means there are huge papers to write), tests to study for, hours spent tutoring at the math center so I can earn some extra cash, and hockey practice to work myself over in so I can fall into a dead sleep and not spend any more time stewing over Cole.
Is it working?
Not really.
I’ve already arrived at the damning conclusion that I’ve screwed up the best relationship I’ve ever had.
Okay… I’ve screwed up the only relationship I’ve ever had.
After my late night therapy session, er… dinner with Sammy, I decided that maybe I needed to take a giant step back from the situation and focus on the whole reason I’m here at Western University in the first place.
Which would be academics.
So that’s what I’m doing.
I’m focusing all my time and energy on my courses and I’m trying very hard not to dwell on Cole or Luke. Until I pulled back, I hadn’t realized just how much everything was spiraling out of control. A little distance and perspective have helped me to understand that.
But there’s no getting around the fact that I still miss Cole. Even though I know deep down I’m doing what’s best for me, it doesn’t make the loss any easier to deal with. I think maybe even Dr. Thompson would be proud of me for seizing control of my life again.
I really do miss her insightful comments and conversations. Once or twice I actually dialed the number to the counseling center before quickly chickening out and hanging up the phone. Hopefully they don’t have called ID.
How humiliating would that be?
Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at nine o’clock I attend my psych 201 lecture. When I walk in, Cole is never there. Although I know the exact moment he arrives because I get an odd little prickle at the base of my neck. But I never turn around and check. So, for all I know, my Spidey senses could be totally off base. I’ve come to the sad conclusion that it really doesn’t matter anymore.
Even though I’ve caught glimpses of him around campus, it’s always from afar. Thankfully, I haven’t spotted Vanessa or Andrea with him. So… I guess that’s something.
But seeing him, even from a distance, feels devastating.
My heart lurches every single time.
Which is exactly what’s happening right now.
My breath, which puffs out in the icy cold that has swept through Oakton, hitches as my gaze slides hungrily over him. My feet grind to a halt as I watch him. It’s no surprise that there’s yet another girl at his side. I can’t tell who she is because she’s bundled up against the bracing November chill. He’s wearing a navy pea coat and has a dark beanie pulled low over his head. Pieces of his deep chocolate colored hair stick out adorably. God but I miss sifting my fingers through those messy locks.
He seriously couldn’t look sexier if he tried.
The girl he’s walking with must think so too because she’s smiling up at him like she’s trying to win an award for it. They look to be deep in conversation as he says something before laughing. His dimples flash and my heart constricts because I remember what it felt like to have him look at me like that.
Unable to watch another moment, I turn abruptly away before hustling down one of the winding cement pathways. With my thoughts so full of Cole, I’m not really thinking about where I’m going or my next class or all the things that are on my to-do list this afternoon.
No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to move on or get over him.
Even though it’s freeze-your-ass-off-cold, it’s blindingly bright out. As I blink my eyes, I suddenly find myself outside the student counseling center. Slumping onto one of the benches parked in front of the gray stone building, I try not to think about the irony of unconsciously finding myself outside Dr. Thompson’s office when I’m obviously upset.
Glancing down at my phone, I see that I have about an hour before I need to be at the tutoring center for my shift. I’m hoping that my mind will be too consumed with equations, quadratics, and proofs to dwell on Cole.
Wow… just when I didn’t think I could sound anymore more pathetic, I jackhammer to a whole new low. I really have become the sad bastard Brooklyn keeps accusing me of.
When someone sits down next to me, I shift my body away hoping that whoever it is will take the hint that I’m not interested in engaging in some meaningless conversation between strangers. Actually, I’d rather pop a vein.
I’m kidding.
Sort of.
“Cassidy?”
That voice has me whipping around with wide eyes. It’s the last person I expected to see. Although maybe I should have, considering that I’m sitting right outside her building. I’m suddenly overcome with a massive case of nerves as we stare at one another for a long painful heartbeat.
Finally she breaks the silence. Which is good because there is no way I was going to do it. “How have you been?”
My eyebrows lift. Out of all the things I imagined her saying to me (I’m so glad you’re no longer dating my son, I never realized just how fucked up you really were, maybe you should consider transferring to yet another college, etc), that wasn’t exactly it.
Gulping a breath, it takes a moment for me to finally find my words. When I do, they’re not exactly verbose. “Um… good.”
Her lips lift into a kind smile. It’s the one I always found so reassuring and calming when I was sitting in her office. “I’m glad to hear that.”
I can’t stop thinking about how weird this feels. Other than the unexpected meeting at Cole’s house and at the ice rink, I’ve never seen Dr. Thompson outside of her office. So the fact that we’re sitting in broad daylight on a campus bench like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes this meeting all the more bizarre.
When it becomes painfully obvious that I’m not about to pick up the conversational ball, she gently murmurs, “I’ve been hoping you might make another appointment so we could talk.”
Unable to hold her steady gaze, my eyes slice guiltily away because I think we both know that wasn’t going to happen. “It just felt too weird,” I finally admit.
“Cassidy.” Taking a deep breath, she doesn’t say another word until my eyes hesitantly slide back to hers. “I realize that finding out your therapist is none other than the mother of the boy you’re seeing must have been… surprising.”
That absurd statement is met with a strangled little laugh from me.
“For obvious reasons, if you decide to come back to counseling, I wouldn’t be able to see you.”
Oh the horror. I can’t even imagine it.
“No, probably not,” I add weakly.
She clears her throat. “It would be what we call- a conflict of interest.”
To say the least.
“But I want you to know that if you’re still interested in receiving counseling services, there are two other therapists who work in the office. Either one would be a good fit for you. Or, if you prefer to go off campus, I can give you some excellent referrals. It’s completely up to you.” She reaches out before squeezing my hand. “My chief concern is making sure that you have the support and assistance you need to be successful here at Western.” She pauses before continuing, “I’ve been wor
ried about you.”
The sincerity of her words confuses me but then again, maybe it shouldn’t. Dr. Thompson has always been kind, thoughtful, and caring. I never felt she was anything less than sincere. Maybe… maybe she really has been concerned about me.
My mind tumbles back over the last two weeks. Yeah, my break up with Cole was difficult. I think we can all agree that it was touch and go there for a while… but somehow I managed to pull through. I handled it on my own. And that feels pretty damn good. Maybe I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was actually able to apply a lot of the tools and coping mechanisms I learned in counseling to my life.
Which is kind of the whole point of learning them in the first place.
Huh. How’s that for an ah-ha moment?
Take that Oprah Winfrey!
“You know what?” I meet her gaze with just a hint of a smile playing around the edges of my lips. “I think I’m good.”
Recovery of any kind is a struggle… but I’m working my way through it. The fact that I’ve learned how to deal with my own problems instead of needing someone to hold my hand feels like a major breakthrough.
One I can’t help but take pride in.
“No anxiety attacks?” She probes quietly.
The small smile tilting my lips upwards continues to grow as I shake my head. “No, none. I’ve felt my chest tighten up a few times but I was able to breathe through it. And I do a lot of self-checks to make sure I’m feeling okay. When I need to talk things out, I have a few friends to do that with.”
Not seeing Dr. Thompson has been hard but it’s nice to know that I can handle life on my own again. It’s a huge step in the right direction. Which is kind of an amazing realization considering that these last two weeks have totally sucked.
But… without them sucking, I wouldn’t have realized just how much I’d grown.
So, I guess it isn’t all bad.
She nods, genuine happiness lighting up her expressive face. “Well, it sounds like you have everything under control. I’m really proud of you, Cassidy.”
My eyes hold hers and for the first time since she sat down next to me, some of the tension melts away. It suddenly feels a little bit like it used to between us. Which is kind of nice.
Of course that would be the exact moment I remember that she knows I was sleeping with her son and-
“Cassidy,” she says interrupting the freight train of thoughts that are steamrolling through my head, “it’s okay.”
My eyes fasten onto hers. “What do you mean?” Because she can’t possibly know what I was-
“Your relationship with my son has absolutely nothing to do with the relationship I have with you. It’s two separate things and although I can’t see you professionally as a therapist, I want you to know that I have no issues with you seeing Cole.”
My mouth falls open. “How can you possibly feel that way?”
I mean… she knows everything.
Everything.
She smiles just a bit in response. “Because everyone has issues, whether they see a therapist or not. Everyone comes with their own unique set of baggage. I’m not in the business of judging people for what they’ve been through or the mistakes they’ve made.”
I whisper again, “But you can’t possibly want me with him.” Cole deserves the absolute best. A girl with her shit together and… that’s not me. I’m still a work in progress. Maybe I’ll always be a work in progress. I can’t help but stare down at my fingers which are playing with the hem of my thick winter coat.
“Cassidy,” she says drawing my attention back to her face, “I want my son to be happy and in a healthy, loving relationship. That’s all any mother can hope for. Cole is a grown adult and he can make his own choices,” she pauses before adding, “and his own mistakes. I can’t stop that from happening.”
“Does he know I was seeing you?” I lower my voice, “Professionally?”
She shakes her head. “Of course not. I would never divulge personal information about a client. There are strict laws against that kind of thing, not to mention ethical oaths I took when I received my license to practice. I take my professional responsibilities very seriously, Cassidy. I hope you realize that. I would never do anything to harm a client. My role in your life is to offer help and assistance. Now, if you chose to tell him, that’s your decision. But I will never discuss our working relationship with anyone else.”
Even though I understand what she’s saying, I can’t stop myself from asking, “Does your husband know?”
Again she shakes her head. “Absolutely not. He’s under the impression that we met for the first time at our house.”
It’s such a huge relief to hear her say those words. My eyes finally rise to hers. “Cole and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.” I figure she already knows this but I say it anyway. Even though it’s been a few weeks since it happened, it still feels surprisingly raw and painful.
“I know,” she acknowledges quietly, “he mentioned it.” Clearing her throat, she sounds just a bit hesitant. It’s the first time I’ve ever seen her look anything other than calm and composed. “I wasn’t sure if finding out that I was Cole’s mother had anything to do with what happened between you two.” Her concerned eyes search mine. “I really hope it didn’t.”
Inhaling a deep breath I slowly force out the words. “No, it didn’t.”
“Good.” With her lips tilting up at the corners, she corrects herself with a small wince. “Well, not good…”
“Yeah, I know.” Then I add softly, “I think I might have messed things up all on my own.”
“Well, I guess you need to decide if your relationship with Cole is worth repairing.”
If I didn’t know any better, I would think she might actually be encouraging me to fix my relationship with her son.
“I… I don’t know.”
Would he even give me a second chance?
Or has he already moved on?
I mean, I’ve spotted him around campus with several different girls. And don’t think my heart doesn’t crumble every single time it happens either, because it does. It hurts to think of him loving someone else the way he once loved me.
Dr. Thompson gives me a long penetrating look before saying, “It’s something you’re going to have to figure out for yourself.”
Feeling depressed all over again, I nod in agreement.
Glancing at her small gold wristwatch, she finally says, “It’s time for me to get back to the office, but it was lovely to see you again, Cassidy. I really do think that you’ve grown tremendously in just the short amount of time you’ve been at Western. You need to be proud of all you’ve accomplished and keep focused on the goals you’re working towards.” She pauses before adding, “And you should feel good about the person you’ve grown into, because you’re a wonderful young lady. You need to cut yourself a little bit of slack every once in a while and stop being so hard on yourself.” She looks at me knowingly. “Sometimes we are our own worst critics.”
We’re both quiet for a long moment as I let her words wash over me.
Feeling just a bit choked up, I say, “Thanks, Dr. Thompson… for everything. I’m really going to miss you.” I realize as I say the words just how true they are.
“It was my pleasure, Cassidy, and just remember- if you decide you want a referral, just give the office a call. Okay?” Once again she squeezes my hand.
“Yes.” I give her a small smile feeling less weighted down than I have in a long time. Closure. I hadn’t realized just how much I’d needed it with her.
Standing up, she brushes off her coat. “Good luck,” she pauses as her eyes continue holding mine before adding, “with everything.”
“Thank you.” I whisper the words unable to say anything more for fear that I might actually break down and cry before she’s able to disappear inside the counseling center.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“So you’re totally cool with going home for the break? Everything�
��s good with the fam?”
Folding another sweater, I place it neatly in my suitcase before glancing over at Brooklyn. “Yeah, I think so.” Over the past few weeks, my parents and I have met several times for dinner. Our relationship is slowly morphing into one that is comfortable again.
“Well, if you need a breather, just pop on over.” She rolls her eyes before dumping a handful of clothes into her bag. “Not like anything interesting will be happening over at the Bennet household.”
“I think everything will be fine. And honestly,” I carefully fold a pair of jeans before laying them on top of the sweater, “I’m looking forward to getting away for a few days.”
Brooklyn huffs out a breath before throwing another armload of clothing into her bag. “Yeah. I know what you mean. It’ll be kind of nice to get the hell out of Dodge.”
I can’t resist asking, “Aren’t you going to miss your little benefits buddy over the holiday?”
My eyes slice to hers because she’s been keeping the whole Austin-thing tightly under wraps lately. Which is most definitely not Brooklyn’s usual style. Normally she gives me a cringe worthy amount of details regarding whatever guy she’s into at the moment. But she hasn’t uttered a single word for almost a week. Which I find both suspicious and oddly disconcerting. I have no idea if they’re still engaging in their little arrangement or not.
“First thing- never refer to my benefits buddy as little. He’s super huge and deliciously girthy.” She waits for me to wince before continuing, “And second, I’m pleading the fifth.”
My eyes narrow. “Since when?” Since when doesn’t Brooklyn want to over-share? TMI her MO for goodness sake.
Not answering, she gives a little shrug of her shoulders before throwing a few more things into her bag and zipping it up.
Apparently not wanting to discuss the state of her relationship with Austin any longer, Brooklyn asks instead, “What time is Luke picking us up?” She yawns rather loudly. “Do I have time for a nap? I’m seriously beat.”
I glance at the clock next to my bed. “In an hour.” I was surprised to learn that Luke lives about twenty miles away from us in a small city which is roughly the same size as ours. He asked if we needed a ride home for break and even though I wasn’t altogether sure I should take him up on the offer, I did.
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