Page 66 of Memories with Fire

“Would you like to talk about whatever is agitating you?” Dr. Rinkins asks, bringing my attention to where she sits behind her desk.

I frown, pausing in the path I’m wearing in her carpet. “Do I have to?”

She smiles with the same friendly attitude as before. “Not if you don’t want to. We can spend our time talking about the weather if you’d prefer. Or you can spend it in silence, pacing my office if that’s what you’d like.” She waves her pen in my direction, leaning back in her chair like she’s getting more comfortable for our session. “It’s completely up to you how you want to spend this hour, Hailey. Just bear in mind that without talking to me about things, I probably won’t be able to clear you for work.”

“Will I be fired if I don’t talk to you?” My heart rate speeds up, my stomach churning. I’m not sure if I want the answer to this question, but I have to know where I stand.

The woman is trained in patience so there isn’t a hair on her head that gives an aura of being frustrated with me. “The short answer is no. The long answer is more complicated. Is that something that worries you?”

I’m sure this is some tactic to get intel on me and what I’m thinking, but I can’t stop myself from nodding at her question.

“I can assure you, you are far from being fired, Hailey. I’ve read through your file. You’re an exemplary paramedic.”

Relief floods me. Closing my eyes where I stand, I sag, breathing out a huge gust of air. One stressor gone, a million more to contend with. Maybe talking things out isn’t such a bad idea, but I’d still rather do it with the people who need to hear it instead of Dr. Rinkins.

I think.

Maybe.

Okay, maybe not everyone.

My mother, yes. Luke? Not so much. At least not now. The pain and hurt are too strong for me to think clearly when it comes to him. Maybe it would be better to wait until the anger comes. I’m less likely to let him in when rage is boiling inside of me.

I spend the rest of the hour walking back and forth in Dr. Rinkins’ office. She asks me a few questions here and there, but for the most part just allows me to pace. After the emotional release in the car, I’d expect to be exhausted, but instead I’m wired and raging over what my mother did. Little things just keep popping up in my memory from ten years ago when I was trying to get through a heartbreak that left me changed forever. My mom telling me it wouldn’t last forever. That there were plenty of other fish in the sea. Growing more concerned about me as each day passed but continuing to withhold information that could have changed everything.

I’ve never been one to get angry with her. Growing up as a teenager who didn’t get in trouble a lot, mostly because I was always home studying, I didn’t have any reason to be furious with her. I can’t say the same these days. It’s like everything I missed as an adolescent is rearing its ugly head now.

When I get out of the session, in which I don’t think I accomplished much, I get in Quinn’s car with one destination in mind. My mother’s house.

I’m ready to blast her with my full fury.

We haven’t spoken since before the accident, save for the text I sent her telling her to stop bugging everyone. Not for a lack of trying on her part. At this point, I think everyone I know has her blocked. She’s also been by the firehouse every day I was supposed to be on shift. Not to mention the notes she left at my door every time I went by my house to pick up more clothes to take to Luke’s.

Her car is in the driveway when I pull up, adrenaline shooting through my veins so strong it feels like my body is filled with blazing hot ice. Warm and cold at the same time, everything mixed together to combine in a steam that will scald anyone who comes near it. Near me.

Opening the screen door, I pound on the main one and wait for her to let me in. It’s the first time in my life I haven’t just let myself into the house. My childhood home.

Home.

Hah. There’s no home for me here. Maybe there’s not even a home for me in Bear Creek anymore.

Thumping on the door again when she doesn’t answer it as quickly as I like, I hear her yell from inside that she’s coming, followed by footsteps. The door opens a second later, a welcoming look on my mother’s face, followed by shock.

Good. Let her be shocked.

“How could you?” I seethe, my hands balling into fists so tight I know my knuckles are white.

“Hailey—”

“How could you?” I repeat with every ounce of contempt I feel, not wanting to hear the sound of my name on her lips. The icy fire rages inside me, licking at me to explode. “Do you know what you’ve done? What you did to me? What you put me through?”

She clutches her chest with one hand, reaching out for me with the other, her light green eyes wide with dread. “Hailey, please let me explain?—”

Taking a step back, there’s hatred in my words as I spit, “No! There is absolutely no explanation that would ever make me forgive you for this. I don’t want to hear that you were doing what you thought was best for me. It’s a crock of shit. You had no idea. You sat beside me while I cried my eyes out for months. You let me wish I was dead because of somethingyoudid! You made me think he deserted me. You let me hate him.”

“I know, I’m sorry, I?—”

“No,” I shriek, breathing hard, slicing a hand through the air. The nails on my other hand are biting so hard into my palm I fear I might break the skin. “You don’t get to be sorry. Instead, you get to live with the knowledge that I hate you. You took away the one thing I wanted most in the world after I’d had everything else taken away from me. And just when I thought I was getting it back, I find out it’s too late. So, I’m done.”

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