Page 7 of The Soul Never Forgets

“I can neither confirm nor deny that.”

He doesn’t have to. His grin tells me that he’s heard about Riley.

Dr. Wescott, I mean Dr. Wes, scribbles on the notepad. “Just so you’re aware, I don’t record sessions with patients, but I do take a lot of notes. I guess you could say I’m old school that way.”

“I’m old school that way too. There’s something about the act of writing down my thoughts and seeing them on paper in my own handwriting that helps me keep things straight.”

He looks up at me and our eyes connect. “Yes, that’s exactly how it is for me.”

“Warning. You’ll take a lot of notes on me.” I shrug and grin. “I’m complicated.”

He glances at his desk and then back to me. “My apologies. My staff didn’t provide me with your medical history.”

“It’s no fault of theirs. I didn’t request a transfer of my medical records from my previous provider.” Which was intentional.

“My receptionist will ask you to sign release papers, and we’ll send a request to your previous therapist, assuming that you have one and I’m not the first therapist you’ve seen.”

“I’ve seen a therapist before.” Many, in fact, but for now I’m going to omit that piece of information. At least until he’s had a chance to form his own opinion of me.

“Your records aren’t necessary for today’s session, but it would be helpful to have them on hand before our next session.”

He’s going to be persistent about this, which I expected. That’s his job.

“I came to you because I need a clean break from my prior provider. Nothing you see in my medical records is going to help you treat me.”

More note-taking. “Can you tell me what you mean when you say clean break?”

“I would like your opinion of me to be based upon whatyousee and not swayed by what someone else has to say about my mental health.”

“Don’t worry, Caroline. I always want to hear about a patient’s history firsthand when they transfer their care to me so I’m able to form my own opinion. My decisions aren’t based on someone else’s observation.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” God knows that’s not how it has worked for me in the past.

“Today’s session is going to be about the basics regarding you and your current life. I want to get a general idea of who you are. Our discussion will be surface-level. We’ll dig deeper in our next session unless you have something pressing that needs to be addressed today.”

The only pressing matter is that Dr. Wes is my soul mate, and I need him to see it. Now.

“Nothing is going on with me at the moment.” Except that I can’t stop staring at him. The pull I feel toward him is powerful. And unmistakable. I want to go to him and climb onto his lap. I want to wrap my arms around him and kiss him until both of us are breathless and panting for air.

“My life is in a great place. That’s why now is the right time to break ties with my old therapist. I’m looking for someone who is interested in hearing whatIhave to say.” And not what my mother force-feeds them.

“Tell me about yourself, Caroline. Begin anyplace you like. There is no right or wrong order.”

I always hate this part––picking and choosing what to tell a therapist about myself. When I was a child, I didn’t understand that I was providing them ammunition to use against me.

“How does one choose the best place to begin?”

“Let’s start with some painless information like your age and occupation.”

Simple enough. “I’m twenty-nine, and I own a historical-home-restoration business.”

One of his brows rises and he writes on the notepad. “That must be a fun job. Is that something you’re passionate about––historical homes?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t end with houses. I’m passionate about all things from the past.” And nothing more so than Frank and Augustina.

“You and I have that in common. I love historical homes as well.”

Oh, Dr. Wes. We have so much more than a love of historical homes in common. And I can’t wait for you to figure that out.

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