Page 17 of Between Us

“I like that.” He stands up straight and nods, more to himself.

“What?” I ask incredulously.

“I like that that’s how you see the world. More people should have that outlook.”

I offer him a shy but genuine smile. “You’re in the right place if that’s what you’re looking for.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t argue with me either. Instead, he just shrugs and says he should get to the back before the next wave of appointments. I don’t stop him, even though I want to. We’ve talked more today than we’ve gotten to in a single shift so far.

Adrian never makes me feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, and for me… that’s rare.

Chapter Eight

Blake

Somedays,itdoesn’tfeel like there’s much to talk about in therapy. Over the last few weeks, I’ve been talking to Catalina about my medication and the symptoms I’m still facing—like insomnia—but I tend to downplay how bad it is some nights.

My anxiety attacks are fewer and fewer, as the weeks go on. I only had one last week. It was the morning of my brother’s birthday, and another year we didn’t get to spend it with him. I’ve experienced loss in different forms—relatives who pass away, friends that move on from you, lovers that forget about you, and the insurmountable grief that comes with realizing that your childhood was spent surviving rather than living.

But the further Grady drifts from our home in Amada Beach, and worse ourfamily, the more I realize that this is a pain that only goes away with a resolution. And when you have a brother who would do just about anything to avoid putting his problems onto someone else’s shoulders, it feels like a hopeless battle.

And sure, I could talk about that with Catalina, but it’s an old topic between us now. I know she’ll ask,again, if I’m planning on talking to him about my feelings. About how the distance hurts, and how I didn’t expect things to change between us so drastically when he left for college. My answer would still be a quiet, yet firm,no.

Because, sometimes, I’m still a coward when it comes to my own feelings. No matter how much progress I feel like I’ve made.

So instead, I vent about work. About the clients, like Polly, who I can’t seem to avoid at any cost. I tell her that I’ve decided birds of any kind are my least favorite animals and patients. And before I know it, I’m telling Catalina about beautiful stay-at-home-mom Mary, and the other women who Olivia has caught lingering forhim.

A second before one of her eyebrows ticks up in interest, I know I fucked up by mindlessly mentioning Adrian one too many times. Probably more than that because I’ve somehow worked his name into every story I’ve told so far.

I’m constantly on high alert to make sure no one suspects I have a very small, unimportant crush on him, but this is one of my safe places. And I let that guard down with the woman who’s literally paid to make it her business.

“You’ve mentioned that name a few times…Adrian. He’s a new employee?”

“Uhm…” I slowly start. “Yes, he is. Anyway—”

She shakes her head and leans forward. “We should talk about him.”

“That’s okay.”

“Fine.” She crosses her arms over her legs and gives me a knowing smile. “What else is going on at work then?”

I squint at her and twist my lips, making a silent vow to not fall into her very obvious trap. “I’m meeting with Lela today. I don’t know if you remember her—”

“The woman whose daughter recently moved away. You check on her and her husband, Jorge, often.”

My cheeks warm but I try to ignore the hint of pride in Catalina’s voice. It’s similar to when Adrian was asking me about the phone call, but it’s not quite that same. That felt almost reverent.

“That’s her,” I nod in confirmation, and explain the large lumps they found onChispaand how Lela doesn’t understand how insurance works. Especially for an animal.

“And I thought he walked away,” I ramble and pick at the fuzz on the pillow. “But he didn’t.” I’m not even sure I’m really talking to Catalina at this point, or if I’m still trying to make sense of Adrian’s attention.

“He as in…? This Adrian?”

I roll my eyes but continue to avoid her gaze. “Obviously.”

She lets out one of her signature cackles and argues, “With how closed off you are sometimes,no, it’s not obvious.”

I shrug. “There isn’t really anything to talk about.”

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