Page 81 of Crossed
Her obvious approval makes me feel sick. I want to reach out and shake her, screaming that it isn’t something to celebrate. But when Quinten opens the door and bounces out of the room, all of it falls away, and I beam, rememberingwhyI’m doing what I am.
Quinten deserves the best, and I want to be here to share it with him.
“I don’t mean to be a pain,” Abby continues, drawing my attention away. “They’re just breathing down my neck, and whenever I try to solve things with them, I don’t getanywhere.” Her eyes flick to Quinten, who’s wrapping his arms around Gabby’s legs. “I’d hate to have to interrupt his sessions.”
I nod, even though it feels like she’s chastising me. Like it’s somehowmyfault that insurance is a fucking scam and I can’t afford to pay for things he needs. “I’ll take care of it.”
Pulling out my phone, I bring up Parker’s name.
Me: Hey, can I talk to you later about Quin’s therapy? There’s a problem with his insurance and I could use your help.
I stare at the screen, my thumb hovering over Send, nausea rising through my esophagus and burning the back of my throat.
How quickly I went from wanting nothing to do with Parker to leaning on him for almost everything. Just the way he’s always wanted.
But desperate times call for desperate measures.
I’ve been holding on to the tiny sliver of power I felt when I was with Cade, but now it slips away entirely, my life at the mercy of the in-between, straddling two worlds. What lifewasand what it’sabout to be.
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I look down, hope rising in my chest that it’s Parker calling to take care of the insurance issue immediately. I’m disappointed when I see my old boss’s name,Phillip, flashing across the screen.
I cringe, knowing I should answer. Technically, I still haven’t quit the Chapel, and while I can go in whenever I want, since there was never a set schedule, I know I should still tell him that I’m done working there entirely.
Only, I don’twantto. One, I like dancing there, and I guess holding on to the possibility gives me a sense of control, like maybe there’ll be some way for me to keep the connection as long as possible. Just in case. And two, the second I tell Phillip, he’ll revoke access to his studio. And now more than ever, my body craves the mental and physical release of pole.
If I lose that, what else do I have that’s just for me?
Quinten hops over to me, snapping me out of my thoughts, and he’s followed by his therapist, Gabby.
“Did you have fun with Miss Gabby?” Quinten says to me, bouncing on his toes.
“I had fun with Miss Gabby. Did you?” I nod.
“Did you?” he parrots. “I had fun.”
I glance around for Abby to reassure her one more time, but she’s gone. She must have slipped away when I was staring at my phone, lost in thought.
As Gabby tells me what she and Quinten worked on, Quinten walks away, going to stand in front of a young boy who’s sitting in the chairs against the wall, his legs pulled up underneath him and his gaze wide and wary as it tracks Quinten’s every move.
I hop up, saying bye to Gabby and grabbing Quinten’s hat, hoodie, and headphones before making my way over to where he is.
“You ready to go, dude?” I ask, coming to stand next to him. I look over to the boy and his mother. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Quinten repeats to them, then looks to me.
“Do you want to say hi, baby?” the mother prods.
Her son blinks, curling in on himself more. I put my hand in front of Quinten’s face so he sees it coming and then grab his arm, gently pulling him back.
“He’s shy,” the mother is quick to explain.
I gulp down the sudden emotion clogging my throat. It’s always the little things like this that catch me off guard. Things that before Quinten, I never would have thought twice about, but now…my heart aches over what that mom must be feeling, phantom wounds from all the timesI’vefelt it pinging against my chest.
The mismatched emotions tearing her in two over feeling the need to explain her son’s behavior and feeling guilt over thinking shehasto explain it in the first place.
I’ve been there a thousand times with Quinten.
It’s a shitty feeling, and it’s only been in the past couple of years I’ve recognized that it literally doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, as long as Quinten is happy and healthy.
