Page 88 of If Our Hearts Collide

Without being granted permission, I walk down the street and into a nondescript commercial building, leaving my entourage behind.

The good thing about my therapy sessions in the city is that they are discreet and held in a rented-out office space—not a facility with the huge title blaring across the door. I can slip in and out of my session and not feel like everyone knows what I’m doing.

There shouldn’t be a stigma over caring for your mind—yet there is.

Sure, my entire family knows I need to partake in my recovery protocol, but I don’t need them involving themselves in my matters anymore or the entire world finding out.

I don’t need a caregiver, and I sure as fuck don’t need a bodyguard.

Having that level of eyes on me just freaks me out.

I hate feeling like someone is watching me.

When I enter Room 536, Margo is waiting for me. I’m a few minutes late, but I doubt she’ll say anything about it. No one wants to rattle me or make me snap. It’s annoying.

Margo and I met prior to my discharge to get acquainted while still in Seattle, so I’m already at ease.

“Glad to see you, Penny.”

I give a small smile. “I’m just following the rules.”

Margo lets out a laugh. She doesn’t look like the typical therapist one would encounter, and I’ve seen enough of them to know she is different.

Maybe that’s why I like her best. She doesn’t put up with my crap.

“So you came for a sticker on your reward chart. Got it.”

I shrug and then full-on giggle. “Only if they are the good kind. I want the ones that are scented.”

“Only the best for you,” she agrees, and I instantly relax. “Take a seat.”

I join her across from a round wooden table that overlooks the city. The building is full of start-up businesses, a coffee shop, and a marketing company. Any empty space, I assume is for things like this—freelance meetings.

Getting comfortable, I cross my feet at my ankles and settle in as much as I can for a medium-tier office chair.

“How have things been going?”

My shoulders lift in response. “Okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yup. Just okay.”

“So they suck.”

I give Margo a look. “Some days, yes.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Oh, I love it. Sucky days are my fave.”

“Penny…”

“Margo…”

“You need to work with me.”

“You need to ask better questions, because if you only knew how badly I don’t want to be here, then you might consider making it worth staying.”

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