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Holly clings to the belief that the hefty dose of midazolam she gave JJ will probably blur her memory of this session. But it won’t touch her earlier recollection of having walked in on Holly while she was tripping on an illegal psychedelic inside her own office.
Holly’s heart hammers. Did I just interrogate a client under the influence of psychedelics for my own benefit? It’s another in a series of self-inflicted wounds. She doesn’t recognize her own motivations anymore. And what kind of therapist loses insight into herself?
Besides, even if Holly can achieve the results she hopes for through psychedelic therapy, how can the ends still justify the means?
CHAPTER 25
Aaron has never before been invited to the condo that Holly rented after their separation. And when he received her text asking him to come, he assumed Walter must have interceded on his behalf. Aaron even rushed out after work to catch his favorite flower shop before closing, where the florist assembled a colorful bouquet of Holly’s favorites, including peonies, roses, calla lilies, and hydrangeas. The sweet floral scent filled his car on the drive over and only heightened his anticipation and excitement.
But the moment Holly opens the door, Aaron sees that she is not right. Her face is pale, her eyes forlorn. He reflexively drops the hand that holds the bouquet, wishing he could tuck it behind his leg.
Holly glances down at them. “They’re beautiful,” she mumbles. “Thank you.”
He hands her the flowers and follows her inside. The condo is bright and modern, with high-end cabinetry, granite countertops, and top-of-the-line appliances, but it’s also smaller than he expected.
“What’s going on, Holl?” he asks.
Without answering, she pulls down a vase from a cabinet, fills it with water, and arranges the flowers inside. “Glass of wine?” she asks.
“For both of us, from the looks of it.”
After pouring two generous glasses of a Spanish Syrah, Holly leads him to the couch and sits down beside him but far enough away to leave a gap between their legs.
“I fucked up, Aaron,” she says, blank-faced.
Much as he wishes she were talking about her distancing herself from him since the night they slept together, he knows better. “What happened?”
“I…” Her cheeks redden. “I vaped DMT.”
“That’s the active compound in ayahuasca, right?”
She nods.
“What’s the big deal? As long as I’ve known you, you’ve used psychedelics intermittently. Self-care. Isn’t that how you describe it?”
“But never in my office.”
His head twitches involuntarily. “Holly, please don’t tell me you indulged in psychedelics with your patients?”
She waves her hand. “No! Nothing like that. It was a couple of days ago. After the office closed. I thought I was alone.”
“But you weren’t?”
“One of my clients came back for her jacket, and the cleaners let her in. But she only told me today.” She hangs her head. “She saw me, Aaron. JJ saw me vaping.”
Her angst makes sudden sense. “But you didn’t see her?”
“I had a blindfold on. I heard the door open, but I assumed it was the cleaners.” She sighs. “DMT has this very pungent stench. JJ figured out exactly what I was vaping.”
He squeezes his temples between his thumb and forefinger. “Why did she wait to tell you?”
“She blurted it out under ketamine therapy.”
“Jesus! Your practice is like Woodstock or something. Nonstop psychedelics.”
Holly’s shoulders sag and her chin drops lower as she reaches for her wineglass.
“I’m sorry,” he says and gently lays a hand on her other wrist. “That wasn’t fair. You caught me by surprise.”
