Page 24 of Sin

He shook his head and held my stare. “No, Sin. Not even nosy presidents.”

And somehow, I believed him.

He waited to let me process this before speaking again. “So since we’ve cleared that up, I need you to understand that I can’t help you if you won’t let me. That means, I need you to be honest with me, or I can’t give you the help you need.”

I swallowed down my instinct to tell him to fuck off. Because maybe… maybe he could fix me. He was a stranger, yes. But… I kinda liked him. He’d sensed how uncomfortable I’d felt answering his questions with London in the room and kicked him out. And I really did believe him when he said that he’d keep this information to himself.

I was still a little hesitant, but I found myself nodding. “Okay.”

He graced me with another warm smile. “Thank you. So let me ask again. Have you been feeling down, depressed, or hopeless recently?”

My response stuck in my throat, but I forced it out. Even if my answer hurt to say. “Yes.”

Nodding, like he expected that, he moved on to his next question. “Let me ask you something different. What are some things that have brought you joy this week?”

I frowned at the question. “Really?”

He laughed. “Yes, really. Come on, try to think of something. Or something you’re looking forward to?”

“I mean,” I thought about the question. Something that brought me joy this week? Honestly, it had been a pretty shit week. Pretty shit couple of years, really. “I guess getting out of prison?”

Nodding in encouragement, he waved for me to continue. I felt ridiculous as I tried to think of something else. I scratched the back of my neck and thought of how excited I’d felt seeing London waiting for me today. “I guess I’m looking forward to seeing some of my friends.”

Friends who I hadn’t seen or heard from in months.

The thought made some of my eagerness dwindle. Because even those closest to me had stopped coming by. Bennett and his partners were probably the last ones to visit me in prison, and that had been months ago, just after their honeymoon. Eva had only come by a couple of times in the past two years, and sometimes it seemed like she felt like it was an obligation rather than something she actually wanted to do. And of course, London had stopped as well.

Was there anyone out there who actually missed me?

“Sin?”

I snapped out of my thoughts and realized I’d missed something Mend had asked. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I asked if you’ve had any thoughts of harming yourself or others?”

I snorted, though it wasn’t really funny. “Um, no. Not today.”

He tapped the side of his thigh. “But you have had some?”

Unable to look at him when he’d asked me such a vulnerable question, I stared at a picture hanging on the wall. It didn’t look like much, but knowing London and his ability to track and find valuable items, it was probably worth a fortune. “I have them every now and again, yeah. Not usually about others, though. I’ve only acted in self-defense or distress.”

“And how often would you say you have thoughts of harming yourself?” he prodded gently.

I had to take several breaths while I braved my confession. “Maybe a few times a day. Some days more, some less. But they’re just thoughts. I’ve never, you know, tried anything.” I cringed at how ugly the words sounded out loud. “I’ve never actually gone through with any of my thoughts, I mean.”

“I’m glad to hear that. That’s definitely a win, Sin. I hope you know that.”

I shrugged since it felt weird to say thank you to him for congratulating me on not hurting myself.

“Not going to lie, Sin. It’s obvious you’re suffering with some pretty bad depression and what sounds like post-traumatic stress. While depression is common in prisons, I’m concerned with how severe yours is. So I think,” he said slowly, “if you’re open to it, I think we should have you start taking some anti-depressants. While it won’t solve the root of your depression or PTSD, it will help with the effects you’re currently feeling.” He lifted his medical bag into his lap and dug around inside for a few moments. When he set the bag back on the ground, he held up a small prescription bottle. “These are SSRIs. If you decide to utilize them, you take one a day and they should last you a month. If you feel like you’re improving and would like to continue taking them after that, I’ll leave my number with you. Though, once this is over and you have the time, I would highly suggest you seek out a psychiatrist to help you work through your depression and PTSD. There are lots of resources out there to help you.” He clasped my hand, pressing a small card with his name and number on it into my palm. “You’re not alone, Sin. Even though sometimes our thoughts try to tell us we are.”

Wet heat trickled down my cheeks, and I startled when I realized I was crying. Fuck, that was embarrassing.

While he turned away and rummaged through his medical bag, I quickly swiped away the evidence of my tears. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything. He pulled out some of that weird crinkly paper they put on medical exam beds, and I moved so he could roll it out onto the sofa. “If you could strip down to your underwear, then we can proceed with the physical portion of your examination. Then I’ll get out of your hair and you can enjoy the rest of your evening. Sound okay?”

Not really. Though, I kept those words to myself.

With little enthusiasm, I peeled off my shoes, shirt, and pants and tossed them on the floor by the sofa. In my nothing but my socks and boxers, I laid down on the paper, feeling awkward as fuck. Especially knowing I probably smelled rank as fuck. But he’d already heard the mess I had going on on the inside. He might as well see the mess I was on the outside too.

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