Page 152 of As the World Falls

I pull my gaze from the Zen garden sitting on the coffee table across from me in my new therapist’s office. Anytime I saw sand, I had the urge to dip my fingers into it, and it was all I could focus on today. So, when she asks me questions, it takes all my strength to focus on her.

“Uhm, it’s okay. I still have at least one nightmare a week, but I can fall back asleep now after them.”

Dr. Ramorez keeps her eyes trained on me, her expression completely blank. I knew most therapists kept themselves detached and biased when it came to their clients. I’m sure it’s part of a survival technique to keep themselves safe, but I struggled to open up to people who looked at me like I was just another person paying their bills rather than someone they genuinely cared about.

“How about James? What does he do when you have your nightmares?”

“James is…usually already awake when I have them. He doesn’t sleep much anymore. He’ll stay with me when I wake up, and I can fall back asleep if he’s there, but I know he doesn’t fall asleep.”

“Have both of you tried my suggestions to help you sleep?”

I nod, chewing on my bottom lip. “Yup. The books have helped quite a bit. I mean, they have always been a habit for me, but it’s nice doing them together before bed to redirect our brains elsewhere before falling asleep.”

“I’m glad it’s helping. How about your days? Are you getting on well with your recovery?”

“Yes. I’m not really back to my full strength, but I feel good and am trying to get things back to normal.”

“So, you’ve been to the library then?”

I trace my tongue along the bottom of my top teeth as I freeze on the question. Was it okay to lie to therapists, or do they have some kind of magical superpower to see right through your lies and force you to face your biggest inner battles? Mine being going to work at Stone Corridor again. Going back to my everyday life, that isn’t so normal now that Lance isn’t there with me anymore.

It’s been three weeks since everything happened, and the place felt haunted now. Sometimes, I would forget that he didn’t work there anymore, that he’s not…a person on this earth anymore, and I won’t see him ever again.

I’ll go to the space section, expecting to see him sitting there, reading instead of working. Or when it’s kids' story time, and I think he’d have more fun with the book than I would, I forget I can’t assign him to those anymore. Or when I make my own coffee instead of having it ready like he always did. Or when I lock the place up at night all by myself now.

I made it back to work only three days a week ago. Only three days, and I had a breakdown. I couldn’t handle the change.I couldn’t handle the pain of expecting to see him around every corner and realizing he wasn’t there. He never would be. I couldn’t fucking handle knowing I had lost my best friend because he turned on me. The one damn person who should have always been in my corner couldn’t stay there, and I felt sick all the time because as much as I missed him and mourned him, I hated him. I was angry that he did this to us. To me. To him.

During his autopsy, they found drugs in his system. Same as Chuck. It explained why they were both so irrational and impulsive that day, but I couldn’t wrap my head around Lance doing drugs, let alone him working for Chuck, all because he wasn’t getting his way with me.

If he would have just given us some time, things could have been okay. We could have tried. He could have moved on with his life and maybe found someone who made him happy. He had the rest of his life to try, and he didn’t do it, and that was something I didn’t know if I could ever forgive him for.

“No,” I answer shortly.

“What about your book club?”

“We haven’t started meetings back up yet. I don’t feel strong enough, I guess, for that right now.”

“Why not? Social interaction could be really good for you. Now more than ever.”

“I meant more physically. I tire out easily.”

She tilts her head as if examining me closer now. Her dark eyes are thin on me, and her lips are pursed together. “You won’t be able to hide behind that excuse forever. You’re mostly recovered.”

My mouth drops open at her incredulous and insensitive statement. “Mostly recovered?” I spat. “I was stabbed in the back. Physically and emotionally. I had to have my spleen removed because of it. All to save James’s life after witnessinghim shoot my best friend in his back and fatally puncturing his heart, and you think I’m mostly recovered? Fuck you!”

I charge off of her stupid sofa that sucks me into it every time I come here and bolt out of the room, slamming the door shut behind me. James is waiting for me in the waiting room, and his head pops up from where he was resting it in his hands when he sees me hauling ass out of there.

“Are you finished?” he asks quickly, standing up now.

“Oh, I’m finished, alright. The nerve that woman has. Well, you know what? She can kiss my ass. I am so done here.”

I kept moving straight through the doors and outside. This was probably the fastest I’ve moved since the accident, and I’m not going to lie—it felt good.

“Cecilia, what happened?” I hear James call out behind me. His steps grow closer until I feel him at my back, and he tugs on my hand, halting me in the middle of the sidewalk. I turn around to face him, all the rage leaving my body when I take in his tired eyes, dull and purple underneath.

I let out a breath, trying to calm myself down so I didn’t stress him out any more than I already had. “It was nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just a little agitated today.”

He curses under his breath, tearing his gaze past me. “Don’t do that.”

---