Page 17 of Endless Love

EIGHT

Willow

My heart raced as I lay down on Dr. Goodman’s chaise. Why had I just encountered Ryan Madewell? He told me had an appointment, but not with whom. Yes, there were other medical personnel and professionals in this building—doctors, lawyers, dentists—but I positively knew he had just visited Dr. Goodman. How? Simple. I could smell the scent of his woodsy cologne.

A million questions whirled around my head as I waited for my psychiatrist to return from the bathroom. Had Ryan told him about me? What did he say? Should I tell Dr. Goodman about our relationship? And that’s assuming there was one.

What happened last night had sent my emotions into a tailspin. Ryan Madewell had given me the most intoxicating kiss I ever had. It had sent me orbiting and everything indicated that he got off on it as much as I did. Then, shortly after my father showed up, he paled and took off like the wind with not as much as a goodbye. In a heartbeat, I’d gone from an incredible high to a terrible low.

Stinging with confusion and hurt, I called it a night, but no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t fall asleep. Clinging to Baboo, I couldn’t stop thinking about Ryan, the memory of him kissing me making it harder. Plus, the scent of him lingered. Sadly, as dawn approached, I came to the conclusion that I was just some kind of fling. Nothing more.

“So, Willow, let’s pick up where we left off,” said Dr. Goodman, snapping me out of my disturbing thoughts as he entered the room. Sitting down on an armchair close to me, he glanced down at a pad of notes.

“Why do you think you let Gustave control you?”

Gustave.Right now, he was the last person on my mind. I didn’t want to think about him. Or talk about him. Someone else was all over my mind.

“I don’t want to talk about Gustave today if that’s okay.”

“And why is that, Willow?”

“I met someone.”

“A man?”

I nodded.

Knitting his brows, Dr. Goodman jotted something down on his notepad. “Do you want to tell me about him?”

“I think you can tell me more about him than I can.”

“What do you mean, Willow?” His perplexed voice matched his expression.

“His name is Ryan Madewell.”

For the first time ever, Dr. Goodman was speechless. His pen fell out of his hand. He quickly picked it up and persevered.

“So, you had some form of intimacy with him.” It was a statement, not a question. Clearly, Ryan had told him.

My mother’s personality shot through me. Not one to mince words. “I kissed him.” Oh, that kiss! That unforgettable kiss!

“And…”

“He ran off. He didn’t even say goodnight.”

“How did that make you feel?”

“Like shit.”

“As it should.”

“Did he tell you what he thought about me?”

“My dear, you know I can’t divulge that. Doctor-patient privilege.”

I inhaled a deep, frustrated breath and then randomly asked, “Can two broken hearts find happiness together?”

Dr. Goodman looked straight into my eyes. “Yes, they can.”

That’s all I needed to hear. With forty-five minutes left to our session, I bounded out of his office.

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