Page 110 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

John cleared his throat. “You sure on that?”

Andino pointed to the ceiling, but kept his gaze on John. “As sure as the sky is blue, man.”

“I still don’t like it.”

“Give them something, and they’ll back off.”

“But not about her,” John countered. “Not on Siena, Andi. They won’t back off a bit.”

“You’re really messed up on this woman, huh?”

John smirked. “How’s that Haven thing working out for you?”

Andino returned his grin. “Yeah, I get it, John.”

“But yeah,” he added quieter, “I am, Andi.”

“I guess nothing else matters, then.”

No.

Not at all.

This entire meeting had not gone the way John expected it to at all. It wasn’t a bad thing, but he had come here prepared for a war with Andino.

His cousin made peace.

Funny how that worked.

“You missed two appointments, and rescheduled three others,” Amelia said.

John kept checking his watch because the goddamn time was not passing fast enough for him. “Busy, that’s all.”

The therapist tapped the tip of her pen against the pad of paper. It drew John’s attention back to her for the moment. “Part of your probation involves therapy, Johnathan. Once a week, or more if I say it’s needed.”

“My probation says I need to attend therapy,” he countered, “not that it needs to be with you.”

And he wasn’t entirely sure how he felt about his current therapist. She had a habit of fucking with his meds—leading him to screw with his own meds to counteract the way it messed with him physically and emotionally.

He felt like her test subject a lot of the time, and that didn’t make for a good patient and doctor relationship. Regardless of how often he spoke up to say the new med regime she wanted to try wasn’t working, or whatever else was the case, she consistently pushed him to continue on with it.

Like it would change.

Like the fog would lift.

Like it was helping.

None of it helped.

Ever.

He had done just fine using only Lithium and therapy while in prison, and then adding an antidepressant or antianxiety with a mood stabilizer when he needed it. His doctor, while in lockup, had allowed John to only use the medications needed to treat him at whatever point in his cycle he was currently at.

It worked.

He liked it that way.

Too many medications made him feel like he was constantly in a bubble. It wore him down, and made him tired. Too many medications mixed together reacted badly with his brain chemistry, and he knew it.