Page 44 of Not Catching Love

“I’m not making you do anything.”

He is though. He knows he is. I could easily be an asshole and not go and point this out for the stupid ultimatum that it is. But I know Seven. I know his messy center, and I know that he’s always scraped for love the same way I have.

Seven deserves to know he’s loved.

“I hate you,” I tell him, then turn to Molly. “And I hate you.”

Molly doesn’t back down.

They’re actually fucking serious this time.

Serious about putting me in the most uncomfortable position they ever have. Talking to one of those people, having them mess with my head, trying to take away my personality and the pieces that make me who I am, makes me physically nauseous.

But then I replay Seven’s words. He didn’t actually specify that I had to beinvolvedin the session, just that I had to go.

So fine. I will fucking go. I’ll waste my time and money and sit there silent for an entire hour. Then I’ll prove I love him and never have to go back again.

I hope everyone is happy.

Because I sure as hell won’t be.

Chapter Seventeen

Xander

“Your couch is uncomfortable,” I tell Sherwin.

My psychologist smiles at me. “Feel free to move to another one, then.”

I glance at the armchair opposite me. “It’s offensively green.”

“You don’t like green couches?”

“Does it matter? It’s not like they’re a metaphor for my neglectful parents, who I don’t even remember.”

“Is that what you want to talk about?”

Fuck. I forgot I wasn’t supposed to be talking. That’s enough of that. I get up off the couch that feels like it’s made out of screws and pace to the bookshelf. Lines of fancy-looking books stare back at me with random nonsensical ornaments plonked in between. None of it tells me much of anything about Sherwin.

“Does your office depress you?”

“No. I find it calming.”

That’s hard to believe. “It depresses me.”

“Actually depressed, or trying to engage me in negative emotions depressed?”

“Is there a difference?” I glance over, and he’s watching me. “Don’task me if I think there’s a difference.”

Dr. Sherwin laughs. “I wasn’t going to. But I am getting the feeling that you don’t want to be here.”

“Your big ol’ framed certificate told me you were a smart one.”

“I am.” He nods slowly. “But if you don’t want to be here, I can’t help you.”

“You couldn’t help me even if I did want to be here.”

He’s still doing the annoying watching thing.

---