Fight for Love (19 page)

I interrupted her. “Exactly.”

“Damn. Can I ask a question?”

“Go for it. I’ve bared part of my soul already. Why not a little more?” I flashed a grin at Stacey, hoping she’d know it was a joke.

“How did you end up seeing Lissa?”

“Mom. She’s not my first therapist, you know. Dr. Greenberg is my third doctor.” Stacey’s mouth fell open. “Didn’t know so many psychiatrists practiced in lil ol’ San Marcos?”

“Huh uh.”

“They do. Some of them commute from San Antonio and see patients once or twice a week. One of them did teleappointments. They rented office space and set it up with a receptionist and webcams. I met with him via webcam every week.”

“Why stick with Lissa?”

“Easy. She’s the only one that got me. Dr. G has never tried to force me to talk when I didn’t want to. Her questions are about school, friends, or life in general. We don’t always focus on what’s bothering me. It’s refreshing and a change of pace. When I’m at home my nerves are wound up tight, and I’m walking a fine line of control. During my appointments everything unravels, but in a good way.” My fingers traced the outline of Stacey’s face. “If I can offer you one piece of advice for when you start practicing, do that. Care about your patients’ lives as a whole, not just what brought them through your door. It matters more than anything else.
 

“Dr. Greenberg is the reason I’ve never considered suicide. Mom brought me to Dr. G three months after we moved here. Yeah, the other two didn’t last long. They both diagnosed me with severe depression and said it was due to my father’s death. Their diagnosis wasn’t the problem as much as their treatment. One suggested I take a pill twice a day and the other recommended regular exercise. The funny thing about that was I already worked out daily. It’s been something I’ve always done. He knew it too. Such a joke. I hated that Mom wasted money on him.”

My legs tingled with numbness, so I lifted Stacey off my lap and tucked her into my side. Her head tilted and her breathing slowed. Both of us on the verge of sleep, I didn’t finish my story. Instead, I picked her up and carried her to bed, tucked her in, then slid in next to her.
 

CHAPTER TWENTY

My next appointment with Dr. G was as repetitive as the rest. I was dealing with my anger better. Yet, we both knew I still had a long way to go. Staying out of intense situations helped, but I couldn’t avoid them forever. For now, we played the wait and see game. Dr. G waited for me to decide it was time to open up and get to the bottom of my problems. I wasn’t ready yet.
 

So for the next hour we talked about school, now and in the future. Dr. Greenberg reminded me to start applying since many schools had an early application deadline. She also gave me advice on how to find scholarships to help pay for everything.
 

The record store called her to check a reference and since I forgot to tell her, she brought up my job after we finished the subject of school.
 

My last questions of the day were as unexpected to me as they were to Dr. G. The appointment went from repetitive to what the hell had I gotten myself into.

“Why did I have to lose everything I loved and everyone that loved me? Why does my mom hate me so much that she took all that away? She doesn’t see it. I have no one, no one that cares about me. No one that would talk me down from suicide if I contemplated it.” My whole body shook. I don’t know if it was fear, anger, loneliness, or a combination of all three.
 

“Whoa. Ok. Calm down.” Dr. Greenberg rushed over and sat beside me rather than in front like normal. “You didn’t lose everything or everyone. Your mother still loves you. She doesn’t hate you. No mother can hate her child. She may not see what she’s doing to you because she is blinded by her own problems, but she loves you Luke.” Tears leaked from my eyes and trailed down my face. Dr. Greenberg kept talking. “You have people that care about you. Me. Stacey. Chelsea. We all care about you, and I promise if suicide were a concern every one of us would do whatever it took to talk you down. Even if it meant we had to handcuff you to a bed until you understood how much we cared.”

My throat tightened, I couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe. Crying seemed to be the one thing I could do. At some point Dr. Greenberg told me she’d be right back and left the office. I felt like such a girl sitting on her couch bawling my eyes out, but no amount of mental force worked to stop the explosion of tears.
 

Stacey came in afterward. She fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around my waist, her head buried in my stomach. Her soothing murmurs helped a little, but the tears still rained down my cheeks. Everything I’d kept in finally drained with each tear and I shook with each sob.

“Oh, Luke. It’s okay. We’ll get through this. Shhh. I’m here.”

That’s when I paid attention to whose arms were around me. It hit me that she saw me crying like a baby, and I couldn’t handle it. “Get out of here. I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“It’s okay. I promise.”

“No, it’s not okay. Get. The fuck. Out.” I hid my face in my hands and didn’t watch Stacey leave under Dr. Greenberg’s guidance.
 

A few minutes later Dr. Greenberg returned to my side. My waterworks were replaced by humiliation and anger.
 

“Maybe we should call it a day.” Dr. Greenberg’s voice was controlled which helped me maintain my composure. “But I need you to come back tomorrow. There are some things I think you and I need to work out.”

I knew she was right, but I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t want to see Stacey after the way I yelled at her.
 

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow. But before I go. Why did you bring Stacey back here?”

“For two reasons. I wanted you to see that we all care about you, and we’ll be here when you need us. The second, I know she cares about you more than any other patient of mine. While I know it’s not allowed and I won’t condone or encourage a relationship, I also know that you have feelings for her. If anyone can help you, Luke, it’s her.”

“And did it ever cross your mind that maybe I wouldn’t have wanted her to see me this way? All blubbering and red eyed. That maybe, if you’re right, and I do have feelings for her, I’d be embarrassed?”

“It did. But Luke, you need to work through that. It’s obvious that you aren’t ready to take that step, and for that I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I pushed you to a place you didn’t want to go. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t do it again. It was the right thing for you. I’ll see you tomorrow.” She held her hand out to the backdoor.
 

I called Chelsea, the person besides Stacey that wouldn’t judge my actions.
 

Chelsea picked up on the third ring. “What’s up?”

“Can I come to your place for a little while? My day hasn’t been great and I need a place to crash.”

“Sure.” Chelsea rattled off her address and I pulled in front of her house ten minutes later.
 

She stood outside leaning against the doorframe. The house was a white A-Frame with a porch off to the side. A white picket fence surrounded the well-manicured front lawn. Even in a daze I chuckled. The American Dream, a two story white house with a white picket fence.
 

Chelsea threw her arms around me in a bear hug before I stepped on the first step of the porch. I didn’t have the energy to pull away, so I stayed there and let her offer the comfort I wanted from Stacey. Standing in Chelsea’s grip, I knew why Stacey was jealous. Chelsea was more than a friend. I hadn’t confided in her like I had Stacey, but in her eyes that didn’t matter. Stacey had known Chelsea would work her way into my heart even if I didn’t. The stinging sensation of tears formed behind my closed eyes, but I forced them away. Crying was no longer an option. I cried all my tears with Dr. Greenberg and refused to shed anymore.
 

“What happened?” She pulled away.

“I don’t want to talk out here. Can we go inside or somewhere else?”

“Yeah, of course, come on in.”
 

My mind was clouded by fear, confusion, and other emotions I couldn’t identify. Unsure of my next move, I needed to talk to Stacey. Not because I thought she’d have all the answers, but I wanted to apologize for being a dick. I sent a text telling her I was sorry and I hoped she’d still talk to me. Then I let her know I was at Chelsea’s because I didn’t want to be alone until I had time to calm down. Stacey didn’t respond, and I hadn’t expected anything else.

Up the stairs and around a corner we passed three doors on the right and two on the left. The last door on the right was Chelsea’s room. It screamed girl with bright yellow walls covered in hand painted flowers. The bed, pillows, and lamp matched the walls. I was overwhelmed with nausea, barely able to keep my lunch down.
 

“You want to talk?”

“Nope.” I had to inhale deeply to cover my gag reflex. Damn girly shit. A new appreciation for Stacey’s lack of interior decorating took hold in my thoughts

Chelsea sat on the edge of the bed. She pulled one leg up and leaned back on her hands, her other leg hung over the edge. I chose her desk chair, straddled it and propped my arms on the back.
 

“You want to listen to music?”

“Only if it’s not that top forty shit.”

“Green Day okay with you?” She turned on the radio sitting by her bed.
 

At least she had good taste in music. “Yeah that’s fine.”

It wasn’t so much a radio, as an entire sound system. It sat in a custom made cabinet. Her iPod was plugged into it and she scrolled through what I assumed was her playlist.
 

I stared out the window and watched the sun set. Neither of us said anything for a while. I needed time to sort out all the shit that had happened.
 

“Tell me about your brother?” I didn’t look up at her. I just wanted to talk, not be examined like I knew she’d do.

“Does he have something to do with what happened today?”

“I’m not going to talk about today. You’ve used your brother, as the reason you knew how to help me, but you’ve never told me what his deal is. I want to know. I’m done with the mystery.” The comforter swished and crunched when she shifted. I swatted her hand away when Chelsea ran it down my cheek. “Stop. That’s not why I’m here. I want to know about your brother.”

Chelsea let out a sigh. “Okay. Obviously you’re hurting. I won’t make it worse.” There was a pause before she started talking. “My brother has the same thing you do, Intermittent Explosive Disorder. He was diagnosed when he was sixteen. He’s twenty-two now. If you care.”
 

I looked at Chelsea, but what I saw caught me off guard. She wasn’t sad. She was pissed. Her cheeks were red and her nose flared out. It was funny, but I didn’t laugh. That would have made everything worse.
 

“Anyway, our mom noticed that his anger was getting out of control and she took him to Dr. Smith, he’s with the same group as Dr. Greenberg. After some lengthy research they finally made a diagnosis, and even then they weren’t sure how to help him.

“A few months before, Mom and Dad went through a nasty divorce. I’ll spare you the details tonight. Cody had always had a temper, a lot like you, but he’d never become violent. Mom decided he needed help when he began spending more time at the gym and less time at home. He wasn’t talking to anyone, and he’d become cold. I couldn’t remember seeing him smile or hearing him laugh.
 

“Every time we tried to talk to him he got mad, smashed something, and left. There were a couple of times he disappeared for days. But like I said, even with the diagnosis, Dr. Smith didn’t know how to help him. Cody figured some stuff out on his own. After a couple of years of trying different things he started reading and researching. I watched him do the same things I’ve seen you do.”

“Like what?” My question came out as a whisper.
 

“Like getting into fights and having no clue why. Sometimes he felt bad about fighting, but most of the time he didn’t. It pissed him off more that he couldn’t remember.”

“What did you see when I fought Brandt that you somehow knew what my problem was?”

She turned away from me and lowered her voice. “Honestly?”

“Yes. Honesty would be good right now.”
 

“Ummm, well.” Her voiced trembled and she ran her hands through her hair.

I’d never seen Chelsea so nervous. She kept moving around, tucking her feet under her then stretching them out, and the same with her hands - tuck, untuck. There was something going on and she wasn’t sure how to tell me. Hell, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know if whatever it was made her this nervous.
 

“What are you not telling me?”

Her voice was so soft I barely heard her question, “You promise not to leave?”

Did I? Could I? Yes. Even if I couldn’t I wanted to know. “Yeah. I promise.”

She took a deep breath then let it out slowly. “I didn’t know anything. I saw you, and I saw the hurt in your eyes when you recognized Brandt on the ground. The whole thing about my brother and how I thought I could help was a lie.” She pushed herself back on the bed and crossed her legs. “Okay, not a total lie. But it was a long shot. I hoped that I’d be able to convince you that I could help, so you’d spend time with me. I didn’t really know anything. Yeah, Cody has the same problem you do, but I kind of quit paying attention to what was going on with him when he moved out a few years ago.”

“Chels…” She held up a hand and stopped me.

“I know. You don’t have to say it. But you promised not to leave. My feelings for you are my problem. I don’t want that to get in the middle of our friendship. Luke, I care about you. I do want to help you. Even if I didn’t know what that meant before, I do now. Please.”

Son of a bitch
. She played me. For some reason, I didn’t feel the anger I expected. There was more a sense of pride. I don’t know, but it felt good to know that she made up a reason so I’d spend time with her. Hell, she even went to the police station for me. Chelsea had done more for me than anyone I’d met in the last year. Well with the exception of Stacey, but that was different. Chelsea kept helping me even after I turned her down repeatedly.