AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s right. You’ve made some fantastic gains, but in order to keep growing and expanding, I recommend a referral to a more specialized psychologist.”
“What?” He shook his head. “You’re trying to palm me off, even now? We’ve been through this fucking shit before. I thought I’d made myself pretty fucking clear. How many times do I have to explain I find your intervention helpful? Yours. No one else’s. I can’t believe you’re still set on handballing me to some new person.”
He breathed out a forceful, frustrated breath. “I like you. I connect with you. I don’t want to see someone else. How many times do I need to say it for you to comprehend? I don’t want to retell my story, relive all the trauma. I don’t care if they’re the best in the business. I value your assistance. If you’re as client-centered as you say, you’ll respect my choice and not try and bulldoze me.”
Was she bulldozing? Had her hypervigilant mind forced a compromised decision? Or did Miles excel at emotional blackmail? “I empathize with what you’re saying, and I appreciate that you feel you’re making gains and are comfortable with me. So if you really do trust my judgment regarding what’s best for you, you’ll accept my recommendation.”
He scoffed.
“In my professional opinion, you’ve become too attached, too dependent. Eventually this will have an impact on you moving forward. I believe a male therapist is the best option—”
“I don’t want a fucking man!” Miles shot to his feet, his jaw clenched, his face flushed, his hands fisted. “I want you. You’re my therapist. Don’t I have a fucking say?”
Her heart kicked into overdrive. “Sit down, Miles.” She hoped he hadn’t noticed the waver in her voice.
He stood there, breathing hard, his face turning an even angrier red.
“Please, Miles. If you don’t sit, I’ll end the session and have you escorted out.”
He dropped onto his chair, still seething. “This is bullshit.” He thumped his fist on the armrest, and she jumped.
“I realize it’s not what you want to hear. It’s normal to have reservations, to fear change, to want to avoid moving on to a new psychologist. The thing is you’ve hit the ceiling with me and what I can offer. A fresh start will swing the momentum in the forward direction.”
“I don’t believe that. I keep seeing improvements. I want to stay with you.” His tone had turned from frustrated and aggressive to almost pleading.
“I get that staying with me, remaining in your comfort zone, feels like the right decision. However, you’re looking at things from a grief-stricken point of view. Whereas I’m factoring in the whole picture from a neutral state, seeing what you need without any emotional compulsions or complications. Does that make sense?”
“I’m not fucking stupid,” he spat, her comment reigniting his fury. “Even with all your ‘it’s in your best interests’, psycho-babble rubbish, I’m not sold. I know what I need, and that’s you. You’re saying you want to help, but if you really do, you’ll factor in what’s important to me, not just what you think.”
She held out her hands in a non-threatening, placating gesture and tried to keep her voice calm yet firm. “I appreciate your honesty. You’re triggered right now. How about you go away and think about what we discussed? In the meantime, I’ll investigate some alternative psychologists who can help with where you’re at and email their details to you for review.”
“Fine…whatever. But if I choose to keep seeing you, you can’t stop me, right?” He raised his eyebrows in an I-dare-you-to-refuse-me stare.
“If my clinical reasoning determines it’s not helpful, that it’s detrimental to your health and wellbeing, I will have to refer you on.”
“It isn’t. You’ll see. I’ll show you.” He stood and strode toward the door. “See you next week.” Miles marched out of her office, the door slamming shut behind him.
Her pulse pounded at her temples. Could he have gone from dependence to dangerous obsession?
Chapter Six
Alexander arrived early to pick up Sage and parked right out front of her office building. The moment she exited, he’d see her, and she couldn’t miss him. If he hadn’t been on time, he didn’t doubt she’d stick by her word and make her own way home to prove a point.
And he couldn’t risk that. Call it overprotective, but he’d rather be prepared and cautious than complacent. In his experience, that’s when shit happened. That’s when people got hurt, killed.
Cold, sticky sweat glazed his skin, and his heart hammered. Fuck, shit like that caused his PTSD—constant reviewing and reliving events where he believed he could have made a difference. If he just hadn’t been so gung-ho, over-confident, impulsive. Too trusting.
He flicked through radio stations until he found a song he liked. He’d debated whether to Bluetooth one of the meditations he regularly listened to but worried he’d zone out and miss Sage. And knowing her, she’d use his decreased attention to take off and demonstrate to him and her brother they’d prematurely panicked.
From what he’d observed, the principle of something meant most to her, the fairness. She’d worn those beliefs like a badge of honor, and they formed part of the reason he liked her so damn much—not that he’d let her know.
Instead, he’d acted like a grade-A dick, like she’d been a nuisance, in his way. He didn’t want her to think that anymore. His time in the commandos had made him re-evaluate…everything.
It reinforced that life was limited and to make the most of opportunities when they presented, like his second chance with Sage. Nothing could happen, though, unless she saw he had prospects. He needed to see it, too…believe it. Would she give him the time to show that? Or had he lost his shot with her?
Even if he convinced himself he could be the right man for Sage, she might already be involved with someone. He’d avoided broaching the boyfriend subject, part of him not wanting to know. But if she did have a significant other, wouldn’t Chase have asked the guy to check on her instead?
No assuming. He needed a definitive answer…from her.
