Page 84 of Things We Do for Love and Science
“Gabriel and I have separated, amicably.” She gulped in some air. “That’s all I want to say for the moment.”
“But...” John opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish.
“Thank you.” She raced back to the sanctuary of her office.
Seated behind the desk, she rested her head on her folded arms. Life sucked. No. She sucked at life. Always had done. The one thing she was good at was science.
She lifted her head, stretched out her arms, and focused on the next item in her color-burst of a calendar.
Chapter Twenty-Five
What a bloody disaster; that man was brutal. Why had Gabriel even invested so much time in sessions with a counsellor who took him for a cosseted, privileged moaner? A niggling voice at the back of his head kept insisting he hadn’t tried hard enough to see things from Delia’s perspective. He’d assumed she’d drop her fear of commitment like a bothersome burden once he made clear how serious he was about her.
‘So, you came to believe you could heal her with your love but that backfired.’
...That grating voice, no, he couldn’t go back there, even if Christian Miller had made some good points.
Gabriel ground his teeth, his stomach leaden with guilt. He hadn’t even mentioned Vanessa once during his therapy sessions. If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t talked about her because the therapist wouldn’t have hesitated to dissect his less-than-noble motives, would have told him his attempt at rekindling things with Vanessa was the act of a coward too scared to face heartbreak on his own. That he was using her to shield himself against his feelings for Delia he still had no handle on.
He needed to break things off with Vanessa, untether himself, and float in the thin and hostile atmosphere of his loss without a new partner to numb the old pain. After all, he was going to be a father, and he wanted to be dependable, mature, and kind, like his dad had been.
The children of lovers are orphans. Gabriel shook his head. Jem and his silly notions. He’d never been emotionally neglected, even if his parents hadn’t been physical in their expression of their love for him. As a child he’d gone to Mary and Liam for hugs and cuddles. Surely that didn’t mean...
Gabriel chewed his lip. Mulling over his childhood wasn’t his wont. For now, he needed help coping with the present, and maybe there was a counsellor in Renwood who was somewhat less confrontational than Christian Miller. Evelyn could probably recommend someone else.
He picked up his phone and dialed Dr. Ashford’s number. “Evelyn, thank you for taking my call, I know I’m not your patient, and I appreciate it.”
“Not at all, Gabriel, I’m glad to hear from you. How are you getting on with Christopher?”
“He’s a bit...bracing.”
“Christopher? Bracing? But he is the kindest, most gentle and understanding—”
“Wait a minute, don’t you meanChristianMiller?”
“Christian? No, my goodness, you must have landed in the practice of another Mr. Miller. I’m so sorry. You can change therapists, if you want to, I’ll talk to Christopher.”
