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“You’re not lucky,” she replies softly, “you’re deserving. Now, finish your dinner. You need your strength for tomorrow’s training, and you know Timmy will want to see you before he goes to bed.”
We eat in comfortable silence, the fears still present but less overwhelming. The food, the laughter around us, and Sarah’s unwavering support make me feel like maybe, just maybe, I can face whatever comes next.
As the night deepens, I find solace in the simple moments, knowing this journey is far from over but feeling ready to take it one step at a time.
Chapter 16
Sarah
Overcoming Obstacles
I glance at the clock on the wall, the ticking hands seemingly mocking me as they relentlessly push forward into the late hours of the night.
My desk is cluttered with medical files, the jumble of papers threatening to topple over at any moment.
It’s been a long day, filled with back-to-back sessions, and now I’m finally alone in my office, trying to catch up on the new client’s files. Dr. Jones, the client's old therapist I spoke to on the phone, warned me that this client would be a tough case, and I can see why. Her history reads like a tragic novel, filled with layers of trauma and hurt. I make a few notes in the margins, reminding myself to ask her about her relationship with her parents during our next session.
The gentle hum of my office lamp is a comforting sound, as is the occasional rustle of papers as I sift through the files, but the persistent buzzing of my phone shatters that peace. It's Tyler — again. His name lights up my screen, and I almost feel the phone vibrating in frustration. I had told him earlier that today would be hectic, but that message didn’t stick. I let the call go to voicemail, hoping he’ll take the hint.
A surge of irritation washes over me, momentarily clouding my thoughts. Doesn’t he understand that I need this time to focus? I run my fingers through my hair, trying to untangle both the knots and the chaotic swirl of emotions Tyler’s calls incite in me. It’s not that I don’t care about him — because I do, deeply. But there are times and places for these conversations, and now is not one of them.
I am sure it's because he's become so dependent on me with his bull riding practice with Bill. Wanting me to be there at the ranch any time he hops on a bull so I can cheer him along. He tells me it gives him confidence and motivation with me there. I'm glad to hear that, but I am a woman who owns her practice and co-owns a ranch.
Sometimes, I am up to my neck at work, and today is one of those days.
I force myself to concentrate on the task, diving back into the client’s files. Her detailed history demands my full attention. Fragmented notes from previous therapists suggest a host of undiagnosed issues. There’s a glimmer of a breakthrough in the last entry — she had opened up about a childhood memory that seemed pivotal — but then the phone buzzes again, derailing my train of thought. Tyler. Again.
I slam the file shut in frustration, leaning back in my chair as I try to calm the irritation inside me. I know my responsibilities, my promises to my clients, and the standards I set for myself. Tyler’s continuous interruptions feel like an intrusion on a sacred space. I know he worries. I know he means well. But tonight, it's hard to see past the annoyance.
He texted me, and I decided to read his message, saying he would bring me dinner. I realized I couldn't afford the distraction, so I texted back that it was okay since I would have a light dinner.
I then checked the time and saw that I should take a much-needed break and walk into town to grab something to eat.
I could have driven, but it's not a long walk to where I plan to grab dinner, and the cool air feels nice tonight.
As I grab my purse and prepare to leave, I glance back at my office one last time. It’s my little sanctuary, a room filled with echoes of countless therapy sessions, tears, and breakthroughs. But tonight, it feels oppressive, weighed down by the files demanding my attention. Stepping outside feels like reclaiming a small piece of myself.
I make sure everything's in order before locking up the building. My clinic stands on the edge of town, a steady beacon for those seeking solace. As the key turns in the lock, the finality of the click brings a semblance of relief. It’s time to disconnect, if only briefly, from the endless demands of my practice.
Stepping outside, the crisp evening air embraces me, unraveling the tension knotted in my shoulders. The sky is a deep twilight, with stars beginning to sprinkle across the canvas. My thoughts drift as I walk to Johnny’s Subs, following the familiar sidewalk towards the center of town. The cool air against my skin is invigorating, a gentle reminder of life beyond work’s confines.
The anticipation of a roast beef sandwich and kettle chips grows with each step. Something is comforting about indulging in a simple pleasure that promises a temporary escape. And a large, iced tea—I can almost taste the refreshing chill of it already. The small joys, like a good meal from Johnny’s, often bring a semblance of balance to my hectic life.
The warm glow from inside beckons as I reach the small, inviting establishment. I walk in, greeted by the familiar hum of conversations and the comforting aroma of freshly baked bread. Johnny’s Subs is a haven. The staff know me by name and always greet me with a smile. I place my order—a roast beef sandwich, kettle chips, and a large, iced tea—and decide to take it to go.
Bag in hand, I exit the restaurant, feeling satisfied. The sandwich is a promise fulfilled. Its weight in my hand is reassuring. I unwrap it as I walk, taking my first bite and relishing the burst of flavors. The roast beef is tender and savory, perfectly complemented by the crispness of the chips. I alternate bites with sips from my iced tea. The chill in the air is refreshing my senses and washing away the day’s remnants.
The walk back to the office takes about seven minutes, and each step feels lighter than the last. The food, the air, and the release from constant interruptions create a brief, blissful respite. Even though I know the files and responsibilities await me, this moment of solitude and indulgence is enough to fortify me for the evening ahead.
As I approach the office building, I notice Tyler’s vehicle parked next to mine in the lot—the sight of his midnight blue truck mingles with my mundane sedan. My heart skips a beat, wondering what could have happened to bring Tyler here at this hour.
As I get closer, I see him sitting on the steps outside, looking distinctly annoyed. He’s holding a plate covered in aluminum foil and a fountain drink cup, his fingers tapping impatiently on his knee.
"Tyler?" I call out, my voice mingling curiosity with cautious cheer. "What are you doing here?"
He glances up at me, his brow furrowed. "Oh, hey, Sarah," he says with a hint of sarcasm. "I brought you dinner, but you decided to get your own."
I hold up the bag from Johnny’s Subs, feeling guilty. "I told you I was getting a light dinner."
