Page 84 of Parrish

“Feel? I don’t feel shit.”

“Sure, you do,” she argues. “Your heart is broken right now and you feel that, don’t you?”

I sure fucking do but I won’t admit that.

“We started this journey together many years ago,” she continues. “For a good while we were ahead of the game but then the Lithium stopped working. I prescribed something else, and that didn’t work for you, but that doesn’t mean we throw in the towel. We keep fighting until we find the right medication because you, my friend, are not ready to sign off on this life. You have people who love you, Jack. A wife and two children who think the world of you. Reina may not remember that right now, but you need to be her light. You need to pull her back from the darkness. Give her something to fight for, just as she gives you something to fight for everyday you open your eyes.”

This bitch.

She’s going to make me fucking cry.

Pussy.

“Be patient with her, Jack. Love her through the dark.”

The timer on her desk goes off and apparently it doesn’t just symbolize our session is through but is also the cue for the fucking waterworks because a tear slips from the corner of my eye. Quickly brushing it away, Dr. Spiegel reaches for the box of tissues next to her.

“I’m not crying,” I snarl.

“It’s okay to cry,” she soothes.

“I gotta get out of here before I lose my balls and grow a fucking rack.”

“I expect to see you next week,” she says as I turn for the door.

I don’t confirm the appointment.

“Jack.”

“Fuck,” I growl, pulling the door open. “What now?”

“Next week,” she repeats.

“Watch out, doc, I’m starting to think I’m more than a paycheck to you.”

With a wink, I leave her with a slack jaw and enter the waiting room. Pipe spots me and immediately tosses the Home & Garden magazine he’s reading on the empty seat next to him. Rising to his feet, he meets my gaze. The poor bastard looks as fucking exhausted as I do.

“You good?” he questions, reaching around him to cup the back of his neck.

“I’m not miraculously cured if that’s what you’re asking me,” I retort.

“Motherfucker, I ain’t looking for a cure. I’m looking to lay my head down at night without having to worry that my brother is going to off himself,” he grunts. Pausing for a beat, he shakes his head and lifts his worry filled eyes to mine. “You scared the fuck out of me, Parrish.”

Sighing, I shove my hands into my pockets and glance at the wall.

Maybe the world isn’t that much better without Jack Parrish.

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