Page 44 of Always Heated

I sigh and shake my head with a light chuckle. “Why do I feel more broken than when I walked in here?”

“You’re not broken, Cassidy. You’re an overachiever and it’s very common. Slowing down isn’t easy, but it sounds like you have a strong support system. You mentioned you don’t deserve Travis, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Based on what you’ve described, he sounds like a wonderful partner, but it’s hard to love someone if you don’t love yourself. That’s where we’ll start—loving yourself. Our mindsets don’t change overnight. I’ll be sending you home with a list of books I recommend. It’s going to get harder before it gets easier.”

She writes down the titles for me and we end our session. She’s right. No matter how much I love Travis, this ghost is going to haunt me until I do the work.

travis

. . .

Cass had her therapy appointment yesterday and shared most of their conversation with me. I had no idea she was going through this; she’s hidden behind a mask for so long. The fact that she’s willing to open up and tell me everything has my heart swelling. I love her more than I thought I could love anyone, and I’m glad she’s getting the help she needs. It only further confirms that as messy as this is between us, she’s still the perfect woman for me.

Pulling up to the office building for my own therapy appointment, I’m more nervous than when I was psyching myself up to propose to Cass. Once I’m parked, I take three long, deep breaths, then head inside.

At first glance, it reminds me of a waiting room for an auto shop. The walls are blank and light gray, and each table is filled with magazines that are older than I am. The flooring is sealed concrete which is equally curious. I do a double take at the list of therapists on the wall—I am indeed in the right place.

I approach the reception desk to check in. “Name?” she asks curtly.

Well, this is going great…

“Travis Harrison.”

After confirming my birthday and address, she asks me to take a seat to fill out a questionnaire. I did it online, but apparently forgot to press save. I breeze through it, since none of my family members have experienced heart conditions, or any of the other twenty-eight listed options. It isn’t until I get to the question about suicidal ideation that my heart is stuck in my throat. I’ve never considered harming myself per se, but there were two instances in my life that I would’ve been okay with falling asleep and not waking up—when Blaze died, and my birthday ten years ago. Cassidy was there for me both times.

I lie on the form, checking “no,” and hand the form back to the desk. Ten minutes pass and my name is called. I step into another sterile room with gray walls and take a seat on the chaise. Laying my head back, I tease, “All right, Doc, are you going to fix me?”

He sees no humor in it, sitting in an armchair next to me. “No, Travis. You’re going to fix yourself, if there’s anything to fix. Personally, I prefer the term ‘heal.’”

It’s going to be a long hour.

“So, where do we start?”

“Where would you like to start?” he counters.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “My girlfriend is going through a hard time and her best friend convinced her to go to therapy. I thought it would be a good idea if I did the same.”

“Then, let’s start there. She’s important enough to you that you’ve taken this step. Would you like to tell me a little about her?”

“This will be easier than I thought.” I chuckle to myself. “Her name is Cassidy. She’s my best friend’s older sister. We all grew up together, and because their birthdays are less than a year apart, we were in the same grade. I always had feelings for her, but because she’s Caleb’s sister, I never acted on them. I did the opposite, actually. I fucked around in high school and most of my twenties, sleeping with half of Sapphire Lake. I couldn’t have Cass, so I suppose it was a mild tantrum.” I laugh to myself. “Okay, a massive one.”

I blow out a long breath and continue, “About ten years ago, I was having a hard time. Caleb was in the Navy and I’d alienated so many people. I felt alone. On my birthday, I went to a bar to drink away my sorrows, and Cass was there. We spent the night together, but didn’t have sex. It was a first for me. Well, we made a marriage pact—in ten years, if we’re not married, we marry each other. I held onto the hope that she wouldn’t get married, but I was too late.”

“I see.”

I do my best to not laugh after Cass told me she hated how her therapist said it. “She was engaged, and I may or may not have done everything I could to break them up. I know, I know, I’m an asshole, but it was always supposed to be Cassidy and me. They eventually broke up, and we’ve been together since.”

“Do you see any issue with your actions?”

“Should I? I’m well aware it was selfish. It was worth it.”

He writes something down on his tablet. As he sets down the stylus, he asks, “You mentioned it was always supposed to be the two of you. Why did you wait ten years? Why not propose after two, or even one?”

I close my eyes, hating the answer. “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Cass. What if she had said no?”

He nods thoughtfully. “What if she had said yes?”

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