Page 42 of Forget

Dr. Alys looks like she’s in her mid-thirties and has warm caramel eyes and is shorter than I am. She’s wearing a blue sweater dress that hugs her curves. She looks pulled together and approachable. I instantly like her.

“I am, hi,” I tell her with a smile. “Thanks for giving me a little time on the weekend.”

“It’s no problem,” she says, waving me forward, so she can come over and lock the door. “I’m not expecting anyone, but I’d rather be safe.”

Nodding, I catch her slight floral scent, reminding me of the magnolias Dad has in his garden. It’s not overpowering, and suits her well as I follow her to the other room.

There’s a desk as well as a large sofa and two armchairs in the room, as well as bookcases filled with books. It’s comfortable, and when I sit in the armchair, I find that I’m able to take a full breath for the first time today.

“Now, what would you like to speak about?” Dr. Alys asks.

“I have had some experience with therapists,” I begin with a small smile, “and the rhetoric is often damaging to the patient. I even know someone’s mother who was medicated for voices, but those voices weren’t due to schizophrenia.”

“What were they from?” Dr. Alys asks, leaning forward with interest.

“A group of alphas forced a pack bond on her, which twisted it in a way I’ve never heard of,” I explain. “The doctor didn’t ask questions, because he was doing experiments at the hospital.”

“What the hell,” she growls. “I don’t understand what’s wrong with these doctors. I’ve come into contact with many who back the teachings we had in school, that omegas need alphas in order to remain happy and mentally stable. While in a way, biologically our body needs the things that the right pack can offer, it is not a bandaid for more serious issues. On the other hand, not everyone is ready for therapy when they’ve had a traumatic event happen, and the wrong therapist can cause damage.”

“And that is why I’m here,” I say gratefully, not even a little bit turned off by her mini diatribe. It’s everything I’ve been thinking over the last year.

“My friend and I run Omega's Haven. It’s a shelter, outreach center, and community to help omegas specifically. However we’ll help whoever comes to us in need. We’re offering a safe place for omegas to have a heat who don’t have somewhere safe to have one. One thing we are in desperate need of is a therapist who isn’t going to do more harm than good. We have a budget set aside for therapy, could I refer people to you?”

Dr. Alys blinks slowly at me as if this wasn’t how she thought she’d be spending part of her Saturday. I know my heart is big, and so is my energy, so I sit back for a moment to allow her to process.

“Let’s walk through this,” she says, brows drawing down as she thinks. “Some of these people will be in hiding, correct?”

“Yes,” I agree. “We have security around the building, and a back door for anyone who needs the anonymity to come in or leave.”

“Would it be better if I come to you for these sessions?” Dr. Alys asks. “We could set the time up, and I can work out of an office in Omega's Haven?”

My heart beats a little harder as I realize she’s not shutting me down, and I hide my hands at my sides as my nails dig into my palms to stay grounded. I didn’t think I’d get this far, since I’ve been turned down by so many other people for things.

“Of course,” I breathe. “We can easily do that.”

“Did you think I would say no?” she asks, her face clearing of the furrowed lines to smile at me. “Oh God, have people seriously denied you?”

Dr. Alys has an old fashioned way of speaking, but it helps me relax as I shake my head.

“I have had people tell me ‘no’ for other things to do with the organization due to my age,” I admit. “I also have a feeling people don’t like or understand what Wren and I are doing. However, you’re the first therapist I’ve asked to work with because I have encountered therapists whose backward way of thinking causes more harm than good. I went to a mental health conference you spoke at and could tell immediately you were different.”

“Well thank God for that,” she sighs. “I’m just growing my practice in Minneapolis, and have more time on my hands than I’d like to admit.”

“I mean, I would hire you outright if it wasn’t overambitious of me to ask,” I say with a shrug. “I don’t want to completely take over your time. There’s simply no other therapist that I’ve met with, or listened to their discourse where they don’t mentionthat an omega just needs to be regularly fucked in order to forget their problems.”

“That’s such shit,” Dr. Alys growls. “We’ll figure out a schedule and go from there. I hate that this is what people still think.”

“It’s what I’ve been told by three or four different therapists, which is why I no longer go,” I sigh. “I put in the effort, but I don’t even want to recommend that my own friends go to therapy because I know it won’t help.”

“I’ll do my damnedest to assist,” Dr. Alys says. “I’m not a miracle worker?—”

“I know that,” I say with a sad smile. “Most people just need someone to process things. I’ll be throwing a lot of work your way though. I swear Minnesota is the best place to be forgotten as an omega.”

“That’s a very bold statement,” she says, brow raised.

Standing, I make a face. “Doesn’t make it any less true. Monday, I’ll get a list of people together who would be interested in speaking with you, so you can begin scheduling them.”

“Will you be one of them?” Dr. Alys asks.

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