Page 76 of In Love with the Devil

As the hours pass, my emotions overwhelm me. They take over, and I force myself to stay put despite the flashes of memory, the shaking, crying, and the beginning of a panic attack. Fuck it. I want to be me again, not some numb, useless thing that can’t even be there for her best friend. My five o'clock alarm goes off and an undefinable thought crosses my mind.

Me to Mindy:Ugh… My coworkers insisted I go to the happy hour. Don’t wait up for me. I promise I’m fine.

She’s been on me like an overprotective mom since I escaped, but today I need some space. Three blocks from the park, I take a bus I haven’t taken in a long time. It’s the bus that leaves me a block away from Dr. Michaelson’s office. I dismiss the hammering of my heart as a side effect of not taking the pills, and take the small mirror out of my purse, and to combat my paleness, I paint my lips to match my skirt.

An hour later, I enter the lobby and a young beautiful lady at the front desk greets me.“Hi, I’m Kristin. May I help you?”

“Um. Is Dr. Michaelson still here?” I take off my jacket and fold it over my arm.

“Yes, he is. Did you have an appoint–”

“What’s his first name, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s Asher.”

“Really?” I don’t know why I’m so surprised. Asher Michaelson… It’s a nice name.

"Did you have an appointment?"

The hairs on the back of my neck stand when I hear the door that leads to the examination rooms squeak open. “Kristin–” It’s Dr. Michaelson’s voice. Asher…

I turn around, and our eyes lock. My cheeks burn while butterflies flutter all over my body. It's the same person I day dreamed about for months to survive Julian, the same blue eyes, same black hair, although it now has a little salt and pepper. He's stunned into silence with slightly reddened cheeks. A sadness replaces the shock in his eyes. After walking on eggshells around a psycho for a year and a half, I’ve learned how to read people more carefully.

“Astoria? Wh-what are–”

“I think… I need to speak to you.”

“Uh.” He clears his throat. “Of course. Kristin. I’ll see you on Monday?”

“Bye, Doc.” She smiles menacingly and waves her fingers as if she’s caught him doing something inappropriate.

“Have a great weekend.” It escapes none of us that he’s hinting for her to leave.

I tighten the grip on my purse strap as I walk to him while he holds the door wide open for me. Even at this time of the day, he smells like expensive cologne. I can’t believe he's here, in the same place. It’s comforting how some things don’t change. Without turning around, I say bye to Kristin. My eyes are still locked on his and no one can convince me that the air between us isn’t hot, heavy, and full of static energy, pulling us toward each other. The hallway is still familiar, but to walk to his office we take a different turn than usual.

It's a small office. Across from the door is a huge window with books covering the two feet tall wall under it. Every wall is stacked with shelves full of books making the room feel cozy. “Please… sit down.” He closes the door behind him and sits in his light brown leather chair across the desk from me.

Out of nervousness, I lick my lips and then sweep them against each other. Why am I here? “Uh. I’m sorry to disturb you. I-I don’t know why I’m here. Um. Are you aware of what happened… to me?” My eyes snap to his after I scan the walls for his diploma, finding none. I have no idea why I’m searching for it but it's strange that he doesn't have them up like every other doctor.

“Yes. I am. It was all over the news. How are you, Tory?” He clears his throat again. “I mean, how are youreally?”

“I’m fucked up is what I am.” What starts as a fake chuckle won’t stop. The giggling goes on for so long that tears escape my eyes and I cover my face with both hands. When the laughter dissipates, I wipe my eyes. But he sits across from me with the most serious expression, unfazed. He’s being professional and I’m here on the verge of a psychotic break because I dumped mytherapist and pills today–of all days. The giggle resumes. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t laughed like this in two years, so… I guess it’s coming out now. Plus, I quit my meds today, so I’m not exaggerating when I say I’m a mess.”

“It’s okay. Astoria, you sure it's safe for you to quit your medication at this time?" He passes me a tissue from the box on his desk.

“Yeah." I nod, the giggles finally calming down. "Don't worry. I did it right." When our eyes meet, there is no doubt that he knows I'm lying. "I’m so sorry, Doctor. I don’t know why I’m here. I had a feeling and somehow... I ended up here. You probably have a family to go home to. I should go.” The words rush out of me as I stand, he mirrors my action and his finger tips touch my wrist while he’s saying, “No. Astoria, wait.”

I take two steps towards the door and he walks around his desk, places his palm on the back of my shoulder and I turn around but step away, gasping, ending up with my back against the door. Dr. Michaelson raises his hands and backs away from me while taking in my state with concern clearly written across his scrunched up brows. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Already, I’m out of breath and sweating. My knees tremble and want to buckle, but I close my eyes and take deep breaths.The square root of twenty-five is five, the square root of sixteen is four, the square root of nine is three, the square root of four is two… Everything’s fine.I'm strong. I'm not going to lose it in front of him because I am so fucking strong!I scream in my mind then cover my mouth as my body equalizes.

“Astoria." His voice is so even that I absorb the calmness to sooth away a part of the hurricane in me. "I don't have anywhere to be or anyone to see. You came here because you needed to talk to someone, correct?”

I nod. “I-I guess…”

“I’m honored that you thought of me. I would very much like to listen to whatever it is you want to talk about, whether it’s yellow flowers, whatever happened, or whatever is happening now. Please.” He gestures with his open palm toward the chair where I sat before. “Sit down.”

Yellow flowers...That’s quite the coincidence.I’m reaching, of course.

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