Page 91 of What's Left of Us

She didn’t want to.

The drive to the therapist’s office is quiet.

I don’t turn the radio on, but let my thoughts drown out the silence. I let myself feel the pain. The anger. The guilt. Holding it back has become exhausting.

Thirty minutes later, the good doctor opens the door to her office and gives me the same greeting as always.

But when I sit down on that green suede couch, it feels different. Her smile twitches downward like she can feel the shift.

She asks, “Are you all right?”

It’s not the first time she’s ever asked me that, but it’s the first time I’m honest. “No. But let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Georgia/ Six Years Ago

The August sunis baking my skin, turning the pasty color into a sun-kissed tone as I help set the table outside. “Do we have enough seats?”

Lincoln closes the grill, keeping his back turned on me. “I don’t know. I haven’t looked to see who all is coming.”

His tone is…off. Then again, it has been all week. He said it was because of work, but I’m not sure I believe him.

“Did you invite your friends from work? I know Marissa said she and Matt were planning on coming, but—”

“I said I don’t know, Georgia.” He cuts me off, pinching his nose when he sees me gawking at him.

My eyes go to the ring on my finger that the sun reflects off of. “I was only asking. I’m sorry.”

Scrubbing a hand down his face, his features soften. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to be a dick. I sent out a group text saying we were barbecuing today and haven’t had a chance to see who responded because we’ve been prepping all day.”

“I’m sorry. I—” I cringe when he eyes me for apologizing again. “I know you wanted to sleep in more. I should have come here to set up myself.”

“It’s not about that.”

“Then what?”

It’s hard to keep the forced smile even when he walks over to me and rubs my arms. “Look, I’ve got a lot on my mind. Things that I don’t want to drag you into. Okay?”

“We can call it off if you’d prefer spending the day just us.”

When I asked what he wanted to do for his birthday, he said he didn’t expect anything special. Maybe drinks with friends or a night out at a nice restaurant together.

His parents and little sister went to Florida to see family, so I thought it would be a good idea to have a barbecue at their house with his friends that he hadn’t seen in forever.

“It’s too late for that.”

Does that mean he wishes we could? “You could tell them something came up. Make me the bad guy. Today is supposed to be about you.”

He looks away, a weird twitch in his eye that has my brows furrowing. “I’m sure Matt and Riss are already on their way, so let’s not worry about it. We’ll get more chairs if we need them.”

My shoulders slump in defeat as he walks away toward the half-empty beer he’d been working on for the last twenty minutes. “Did I do something? Because you’ve been weird all week, and I thought this would be a nice change of pace for you. If you want to talk about what’s on your mind, you know I’m here.”

The bottle pauses halfway to his mouth. There’s a pause before he takes a long swig and lowers it in his grasp. “It’s been a long week, Georgia.”

He always says that. “So let’s talk about it.”

“Not right now.”

---