Page 83 of Only With You

“I can still smell it.” I grimace at the caustic, acrid scent that clogs my nostrils and close my eyes at the wave of dizziness that comes with the memory. I shudder and goosebumps that feel like pinpricks spread across my body. “I can still hear her desperately gasping for air as I rolled her to her side. The tears streaking down the side of her face, clinging to her matted hair. Her eyes gaping with panic and then rolling back. I…I tried. I did the best that I could. I swear…I swear I tried.”

“Landon.”

My eyes pry open at the caution in his voice, and when our gazes lock, I hate the emotions on his face.

“My mother choked on her vomit and I watched it happen.” I sink back and laugh to myself. “I watched her die, and now, I get to relive that memory until the day that I die in painstaking detail. Isn’t that something? But it’s fine.” I shrug, swallowing past the thick emotions gripping my throat like a noose. “I guess my childhood could’ve been worse.”

“No.” This time his empathetic mask he so craftily wears slips off his face. “That isn’t a healthy way to cope. Landon, you have the right to feel?—”

“Feel what? Sad? To get in touch with my emotions and remind myself I’m human, and it’s okay to feel the way I do? There’s nothing to feel. It happened. I can’t go back and change time. I’ve accepted it, and I’m done with this conversation.”

Reid blinks with confliction, lips pinched together like he wants to say more. I’m sure I know what he’s thinking.Detached, numb,and I’m sure he’d throwmanipulative, with antisocial tendenciesin there. At least my previous therapist had. John thought getting a family therapist wouldstrengthenour relationship. The audacity of that man.

Thankfully, he doesn’t prod and picks up his notepad. He scrawls something on it, and then taps his pen, sporting his professional smile.

“I want you to do something this week for me.”

“Okay?”

“I want you to engage in something that makes you feel your best. It doesn’t matter what it is as long as it’s not putting you or anyone else in harm.” He gives me a pointed look and resumes. “And I want to hear about it in our next session. You might also consider making amends. You just never know how things will turn out.”

Engaging in something that makes me feel my best and making amends? This week is going to be interesting or it’ll just go to shit. I assume the latter.

And as if he can read my thoughts he says, “Please don’tassumethe worst. I know it’s easy to get lost in your head, and accept the bad. Your brain is sending these triggers, preparing for disappointment, because it’s something it feels it needs to do, because it’s always had to do it. Because it’s something you’re accustomed to, but rememberyou’rein control ofyou. You havethe right to hope, and don’t feel guilty because you think you’re going to disappoint yourself. Rejection is just redirection. And sometimes we need it to put us back on the right path.”

“Hmmm.” Jayden holds a black cauldron mug in one hand and then in the other. He inspects it from different angles, then pretends to drink from it. “Okay, it’s decided, this is coming home with me.”

“I’m getting this one.” Malik holds a black mug with the Scream face on it.

And Saint holds two, one that looks like an apple with a melted green skull on it and the other looks like Jason the serial killer with a machete for a handle. “We’re so cute. Look at us team bonding. Buying mugs and shit. We should do this again.”

This will certainly not happen again.

I was supposed to come alone, but the guys decided to come when they overheard Jagger and me talking. Now they’re here, browsing through the multitude of mugs on the shelves that take up one side of an entire aisle.

I pay them no attention and glance over at Jagger, who hasn’t touched one. Matter of fact, he’s been oddly quiet today.

“You all right, mate?”

“Hmm? Sorry, what?” He blinks.

I know he’s stressed about the upcoming season.

We have our first game in a week and the onslaught of unsolicited opinions has already started.

Now that TJ’s gone, Jagger’s taken the role of being the captain, and with that came a lot of unprompted judgement. TJ wasn’t safe from it last year, and Jagger certainly isn’t going tobe either, but unlike TJ, who could brush it off easily, Jag isn’t like that.

He likes to pretend, but he does a shit job at it.

“Are you all right?”

He flashes me a crooked grin and picks up a random mug. “Yeah, I’m good. Just tired.”

I know that’s bullshit, but I don’t want to press for more here. Not in front of the guys. I let it go for now and drag my attention back to the array of mugs.

It’s been six days since my session with Reid and six days of Julianna ignoring me.

It was fine at first, because I’ve experienced her silence before, but after the first day, it bothered me a lot.

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