Page 56 of Misery and Ecstasy

Deleting the text, I start again.

Hey there…

Ugh. Changing my mind, I erase the words again.

What the hell is wrong with me?

How do you check in to see if someone you slept with then ghosted in the middle of the night is upset with you without making it awkward?

I’m not sure there is a way.

Locking my phone, I place it back on my nightstand and finish getting ready for lunch.

In no time, I hear Marissa honking from my driveway. Grabbing my things, I head downstairs and outside.

The second my ass lands on her seat, she starts.

“Well, excuse me…” She leans away from me to look me up and down.

“What?” I peer down at myself, thinking there’s something wrong with what I’m wearing. “We’re going to Bastian’s, right? Do I not look okay?”

“Do you look okay? Babe, you’re fucking glowing.”

When I feel myself flush, I pull the visor down, looking in the mirror as she pulls out of my driveway.

“What are you talking about?” The only thing different on my face now than there was a few minutes ago is the redness in my cheeks.

“I don’t know, but whatever you’re doing? Keep doing it. It’s working for you.”

I scoff, knowing exactly why I may beglowing,and it pisses me off.

I’m thinking twice about saying anything to the two of them about what happened.

Why? So you don’t have to hear the truth fall from their mouths?

Olivia and I have been best friends since freshman year of college. Marissa quickly became one of my best friends once I began clinicals at the practice where she worked during grad school. That makes both of these girls experts on me whether I want them to be or not.

I let my head fall back against the headrest and close my eyes to try to quell some of the growing pain I’m feeling.

“Anyway, how are you? Anything new with you and Jay?” Changing subjects toherlove life, I hope to keep the spotlight off of me for as long as possible.

* * *

Marissa and I look over the menu while we wait on Olivia. As a social worker, she’s often pulled in various directions with no warning. I respect the hell out of her for what she does, and she’s damn good at her job too.

When I first started school, I wanted to be a child psychologist so I could provide help to kids in a way I never received when I was younger. I quickly realized that I have a hard limit when it comes to anything related to children in peril and switched my focus to adult therapy.

But if I’m being honest, it’s often difficult listening to someone talk about their trauma no matter the age. I think about Harleigh and Delilah... They’re only two out of so many other young girls who have been dealt a shitty hand in life. My childhood was like growing up in the Brady Bunch compared to theirs.

When my phone vibrates against the table, I grab it quickly to see if it’s a message from Draven.

It’s not. Just an email.

“Expecting a call?” Marissa quirks her eyebrow at me over the top of her menu as I place my phone back down on the table.

“Hm? No. I had a client in crisis yesterday. I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t them.”

Yeah, right.Youwere the only person in crisis yesterday… Still in crisis today, if you ask me.

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