Page 156 of John + Siena: The Complete Duet

NINETEEN

“Amelia will see you now,” the receptionist said.

John stood from the chair, and his father followed suit. The receptionist’s gaze widened when the two headed for the office door.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but only John can attend his appointment unless the doctor has otherwise stated for the session.”

“No,” Lucian said, “I will be seeing her, too.”

“I can’t allow—”

“It doesn’t matter what you can’t allow,” Lucian interjected fast. “It matters what will happen regardless of what you say.”

John was only half listening. A part of him was there, and present. Another part of him was somewhere else entirely.

He followed behind his father as Lucian entered the office, feeling like a child again. It reminded him of all those times when as a young boy and teenager he had visited office after office, doctor after doctor, therapist after therapist with his parents. Each one offered something different as an explanation. He had been diagnosed as ADHD, and then ADD, and even by one, as on the autism spectrum. It was difficult knowing that none of those really fit, either.

His parents had never done that to harm him, or anything of the sort. In fact, it had been the exact opposite. They took him to person after person, desperately trying to help John when he was a child. They needed answers, not for them, but for him.

And eventually, they got those answers.

Bipolar.

He wasn’t sure if that was the answer his parents had wanted, however.

Now, here they were again. John was thirty, a grown ass man, and his father was attending yet another appointment. To be fair, Lucian only came after he went through John’s home, and found the massive pile of medications prescribed by Amelia, and then overheard as his son tried to deflect yet another scheduled appointment with the therapist.

John should have had this shit handled. Neither one of his parents should be involved. He didn’t know which emotion to deal with first.

The guilt.

Or the irritation.

The way the two battled against each other was a poison to John’s mind. It was hard to know that his anger was irrational when his mind came up with too many different reasons to justify it. The reasons didn’t have to be good ones, of course, just reasons. It was even more difficult to deal with the guilt when the anger was an easier emotion to feed.

Yet, the two warred.

On and on it went.

Distracting him.

Sucking him in.

Taking him away.

“Johnathan.”

At the sound of his therapist’s voice, John realize that he was actually sitting in her office. Just like that, once more, he lost seconds. More moments gone from his day that he couldn’t explain.

Time erased.

“How long have you known my son was manic?” Lucian asked.

“I’m sorry,” Amelia said, “but I can’t speak about my patient—”

“This is my son,” Lucian interrupted. “And at the moment, what he needs right now the most, is the proper help. And I need to know if that is you, or if you are unintentionally hurting him.”

“Hurting him?” The therapist stood from her chair, and discarded the clipboard and pen in her hand to the seat. “I’ve been treating John since he was released from prison. Yes, I have noticed that he was possibly entering a hypomanic stage, but—”