Page 143 of Love Me

“And that won’t change either. Now hop out.”

We step inside the building. It looks like an apartment complex from the outside, but my father said Dr. Camden is the best in the business.

We knock and her assistant welcomes us in. I take a seat on the couch, my legs bouncing up and down uncontrollably. Hunter presses his hand on my knee, but I’m too jittery to stop.

The entrance door opens and Kaden steps inside. All my nerves recede. His eyes find mine, and I exhale the breath I was holding.

He takes the seat next to me, intertwining our fingers. I love how he doesn’t fill the space with words. He’s just here with me. Supporting me.

“You can come in,” Dr. Camden, a beautiful and ageless woman, says from her office door.

Both of the guys stand up, flanking me.

The assistant flushes. “You two can’t go inside.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” I say.

“No,” Kaden says resolutely. Hunter takes a warrior-like stance. Good God.

One look at us and Dr. Camden says, “You two can come in if Celine is okay with that. But one word from either of you, even the smallest reaction, and you’re out.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

Look at my guys, intimidated by her and I suppress a smile. Dr. Camden continues as we walk into the room. It’s an inviting space with green walls, and a Chesterfield couch covered in a mustard colored fabric. Her college degrees and accolades hang up on the wall behind her desk while tastefully framed pictures decorate the other walls. Along the window plants rest, soaking up the sun. “What you’re going through will take a toll on you. It might be upsetting.”

“Do not stop, I can take it.”

I already feel Kaden’s disapproval, but he keeps his mouth shut. I guess being here counts more.

“Lay down and make yourself comfortable.”

I do that, my body sinking into the soft sofa.

“Close your eyes. Breathe in and out. Just listen to my voice.” She has an alluring voice lulling me deeper and deeper, and I feel myself drifting further away. Someone should bottle her voice up and sell it as a relaxant.

“You’re in the car with your parents.”

I watch myself as a five-year-old. My mom’s and dad’s facial muscles are strained and they are talking in hushed voices.

“What do you see?”

“My parents are arguing, but I can’t hear what they’re saying.”

“Focus, you’re there with them. Now, hear them.”

I pick up my doll, and Mom says, “It was a mistake. What did we do?”

“We did what we had to do. I don’t want that life for her.”

“They won’t stop searching for us. My mother would never allow that. I am a terrible daughter.”

“That’s their words, not yours.”

She blinks, focused on him. She nods, a small smile parting her lips.

“Daddy, when are we going to be there?”

---