Page 37 of This Side of Beautiful

I jerked my head slightly and gripped the phone tightly until I heard his soft chuckle. “If you were here, I would punch the mess out of your arm.”

“I’m good on your hits. I have marks, remember?”

“Then you know I don’t play,” I teasingly warned.

The car slowed down, and the darkness of my condo reminded me of my current reality, which was that I was utterly alone. “Mind staying on the phone a little bit longer? After being around people the last few days, suddenly going into an empty place seems the hardest thing ever.”

Landon simply replied, “I’m here.”

For the second time that evening, I wiped my eyes.

March 14

“What am I supposed to do when I need you?” I complained to Dr. K, otherwise known as Dr. Amanda Kelley, my psychologist. “That was a big night, and I didn’t have anyone to call.” I picked up my coffee cup and sipped while I waited for an answer.

“Is that decaf?” she asked with an amused smile while jotting down notes on her purple clipboard.

I rolled my eyes. “Doc, give me a break. I need something.”

“You already had your break, Janae. And you keep glossing over whether you’re taking your meds or not.”

I tucked one leg underneath my other leg on the plush yellow sofa as I faced the woman who’d been in my life since I overdosed three years ago. “The meds take away my creativity, and I don’t feel like myself.”

Her forehead puckered as she pushed her glasses farther up on her nose. “When’s the last time you took any meds?”

I shrugged, though I knew how long. Five months and ten days.

“Janae, we can’t continue this back-and-forth. You make great strides, then lose it the minute there’s strife. Life will always be hills and valleys, and you must learn to deal with challenges without falling apart. You’re no different than anyone else.”

Nursing my warm cup of java, I quipped, “You mean besides those of us who have bipolar? Or do you mean most people who look for an escape through alcohol, drugs, porn, violence, or whatever is the latest social media trend? You mean those people? I feel like I’m being punished for trying to get my life right. Can you give me credit for what I’ve achieved?” Landon’s words about wearing the coin again rang true, and I rubbed it through my T-shirt.

“What’s that smile for?” she asked.

“I didn’t realize that I was.” I lowered my gaze. Thoughts of Landon made me smile. We’d been talking on the phone every day for the past week.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

I blinked. “You haven’t answered mine either. What am I supposed to do when I need you?”

She placed her purple notepad on the desk behind her. “I am your psychologist and not your friend. We have boundaries. We’ve been through this before. You know I care about you and want the best for you, but I can’t and won’t be at your beck and call. I gave you the numbers to call after hours if you’re in crisis. You chose to pop pills. Not taking your meds leads to more poor choices and impulsivity.”

“I don’t want to have to explain my issues over again with some random person. I’ve only called you a couple of times after hours in the three years we’ve worked together. Don’t act like I’m stalking you or something. I’m asking for something more. Advice or something tangible when my back is against the wall…” I held my hand up. “Besides meds. I’m less of a person on meds. I feel freer than I have in a long time since I stopped taking them. More vibrant. More alive.”

“Or is it because of a man?” Dr. K raised a sharp brow. “Love is a beautiful thing, but it doesn’t cure you. That smile is because of a man. Is it that musician who’s in the news for getting into a fight with Cash Black and pulling you out of the restaurant?”

I knowingly smiled and hugged myself. “He saved me, Dr K.”

“He wouldn’t have had to save you if you weren’t high that night. If you don’t get that you crave drama, then you’ll never heal.”

I shook my head. “He’s not like that. He’s not drama at all. He doesn’t drink or do drugs and prefers solitude.”

“It doesn’t matter what he’s like. I’m talking about you. You grew up in chaos. It’s your norm. For the past three years, you’ve been struggling with accepting that order and stability is the only way for you to manage your mental health.” She tapped the arms of her leather chair.

“You mean being less than who I am,” I argued. “Why can’t I be me without meds? I mean, honestly, what’s the difference between street drugs and prescription drugs? If I want to truly be clean, then I don’t want to put anything in my body that alters my mind. I want to learn how to like myself. Me.” I hit my chest. “I can brag about how much I love myself despite how everyone else hates me, but the reality is that I barelylikemyself. Instead of focusing on whether I took my meds or if a man is giving me false beliefs that I’m healed, help me get rid of these evil thoughts of demeaning and hurting myself. Help me control my raging moods.” I took another sip of my warm coffee before I pulled out my coin. “I put this back on because my friend, which is all Landon is to me, suggested that I keep wearing it to remind me what I had accomplished for three years and that I would achieve again.”

The ends of her lips curved downward as she settled back in her white leather swivel chair. “Does he know everything that you’re dealing with?”

“He will in time.” I met her concerned gaze. “I’m doing what you’ve been preaching to me all along. I need to trust. I need to be vulnerable without a motive. I need to have someone real in my life. You just told me I can’t rely on you after hours, and my ex, who used to be there for me, stopped taking my calls. I have no friends, and you know my family ain’t worth shit. Let me have this man, Dr. K. Please.” I gripped my cup harder. “Am I attracted to Landon? Yes. Have we had sex? No. Do I want to be different with him? Yes. I want to be different with him because he’s different than any man I’ve ever met. He’s a legit good man, and I don’t want to mess up. Ican’tmess up.”

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