Page 56 of A Pretty Fixation

“Sure.” He tugs me into his chest for a sensualkiss. When it slows to an end, he says, “Goodnight, Jordyn.”

“Night, Caleb.”

I treat him to a sweet smile for the first timebefore we part.

It’s so exciting and scary to have rememberedsomething.

Maybe I am Dove, after all.

But since my parents have no idea. There’s onlyone other person who can give me the answers.

Dr. Sharma opens the door with a warm smile. “Hi,Jordyn. Please, come in.” I haven’t seen her in a few years. She still looksyouthful, with barely any wrinkles on her sepia brown face.

“I’m sorry to bother you on a Sunday,” I say as Istep into her cottage-style house.

“It’s no bother. I’m always here when you need totalk.” She motions with her hand, and I enter the cozy room where she meetsclients.

“Coffee or tea?” she offers as I sit on thefamiliar gray couch.

“No, thank you.”

Sitting in the armchair across from me, she claspsher hands on her lap as she observes me. “So, what’s going on?”

I pick at my jeans as I speak. “Um, I recently meta guy—but not just any guy. Caleb’s from my past, and last night while we werekissing, it triggered a memory from the foster home. It’s not the first timehe’s stirred a flashback.”

“I see. Intense feelings might bring on positivememories. I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“That’s not why I asked to see you.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What is it?”

I take a moment before explaining. “Well, Ithought maybe you could help me go back.”

Her brows fly up in surprise. “Go back?”

“Not all the way,” I quickly add. “To the time inthe foster home. I need proof of something.”

“Proof of what?”

“That I am who Caleb thinks I am.”

Dr. Sharma considers for a beat and releases along exhale. “Jordyn, that’s risky. There’s a chance you could open thefloodgates, and that rush of traumatic memories could cause serious damage.”

I let her words sink in. “You could pull me outthe second you notice I’m in distress. It’s only the foster home. The moment Ifind the answer that’ll be it.”

She sighs. “Your parents are in support of this?”

“They don’t know I’m here,” I admit. “I’d rathernot worry them. Doc, please. I need to know if I’m Caleb’s girl.”

Silence lingers until she tells me, “All right. Ifit is what you want.” As she opens the drawer of the side table to retrieve herswinging pendulum object, I lie down on the couch and try to relax.

Ticking sounds fill the room.

“Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Inthrough the nose, and out through your mouth.”

I do as she says, repeating the technique a fewtimes.

“Let yourself go,” she advises. “Don’t fight it.”

---