Page 12 of Set In Stone

krystina

“Miss Cole,can I get you anything while you wait? Tea?Coffee?”

I looked up at the pleasant and motherly face of Patricia Ward, Dr. Tumblin’s attentive receptionist. She had a soft voice that was calm and soothing. I suspected that was part of the reason she was hired. A glance around the waiting room would show more of the same. Calm and soothing. As if the muted pastels were a strategic design plan to make a patient relax; to make them feel like they weren’t about to go through an emotional cyclone upon entering the private office of Dr. Joseph P.Tumblin.

“Coffee would be fantastic, Patricia. Thank you,” Isaid.

I sat back in my chair and began to tap my foot, clocking the minutes until I would be called into Dr. Tumblin’s office. As we had in previous weeks, I spoke with him first, and then Alexander took a turn. After we each had our private sessions, Dr. Tumblin would sit down with us together to discuss what was talked about during our one-on-ones. I wasn’t sure if I liked the current arrangements, but Dr. Tumblin insisted we tryit.

The receptionist came over to me with a cup a piping hot coffee. The aroma was like heaven to my nose. Handing me the cup, she pointed over to an area on herleft.

“Cream and sugar is right over there on the minibar. Please, help yourself,” she told me before retreating back to herdesk.

I stood and walked the few steps to where Patricia had pointed. Adding a few dollops of cream and an individual package of granulated sugar, I stirred the coffee absently while thinking about how Alexander might be reacting to the things I discussed with Dr.Tumblin.

He’s probably going ape-shit right aboutnow.

I shook my head and thought back to the night when I mentioned to Alexander that he and I should go to therapy. I had no idea it would turn out to be this difficult. I thought it was a good idea. After the car crash, life seemed to come full circle and I didn’t want the nightmares of our pasts to interfere with us anymore. We had our whole lives ahead of us and I wanted nothing to hold us back. He was my everything. My dark knight. He was my heart and he set my soul onfire.

However, I was starting to wonder if my insistence to attend therapy was a good one. Alexander warned me. He said he wasn’t a fan of shrinks. That was the understatement of the year. I just wished he could see what I saw – a tormented man, haunted by the demons in his past. I witnessed his turmoil almost every night while he slept. I hated when he awoke from the nightmares that ripped him apart. It nearly broke me. I felt it was imperative for us to work throughthis.

Together.

Unfortunately, Alexander was having none of it. His value for privacy took precedence. I wasn’t allowed to mention certain parts of Alexander’s past, making it difficult to speak freely to Dr. Tumblin. The only thing he knew was that Alexander’s parents were dead. Nothingmore.

I took a sip of the coffee and winced from the bitterness. It certainly wasnotanything like the coffee La Biga would’ve served, but at least it wascaffeine.

Beggars can’t bechoosers.

I sighed to myself and reclaimed my chair in the waiting room. Settling in, I went over our conversation during the car ride here. It was frustrating. I tried to keep my cool, but knew I had failed miserably. The minute he mentioned his sister’s involvement in our wedding plans, it became a real struggle to bite my tongue. His domineering nature was taking over all aspects of my life. Of our lives. Navigating his needs with my own was a difficult balancing act. I understood Alexander’s demand for control, but he was taking it to a whole new level. I just wanted toscream.

What about me? Don’t I get to plan my wedding? Don’t I get to have a say in the house that we are going to live intogether?

I looked up when I heard the door to Dr. Tumblin’s office open. The psychiatrist smiled kindly atme.

“Are you ready, Krystina?” heasked.

“As I’ll ever be,” I joked with a slight grin, even though I wasn’t reallykidding.

When I walked into the office, I found Alexander pacing like a caged animal. Despite his obvious agitation, I couldn’t help but to take a quick moment to admire the way he could own any room with just his mere presence. Standing over six feet, he commanded power and radiated prestige. I would never tire of watching him. Even when he was angry, he was impossiblygorgeous.

His dark waves were wild, as if he had been running his hands through them in frustration. His rumpled hair only added to his Adonis-like appearance. His sapphire eyes flashed when he saw me come in, and his lips were drawn into a grim line. Nevertheless, his apparent anger didn’t stop the magnetic pull that I felt whenever I was near him. He was like the other half of my soul, and at times I felt like I couldn’t breathe withouthim.

I fought the urge to go to him, wanting nothing more than to melt into his arms and completely forget about the therapy session all together. However, the tension in the room could be cut with a knife. I hesitated, not wanting to make the wrong move and potentially make a bad situation worse. Afraid to utter a word, I quietly sat down on the plush peach colored sofa in the office and ran my hands over my skirt in an attempt to keep them fromfidgeting.

“Alex, why don’t you take a seat?” Dr. Tumblinsuggested.

“I’d rather not,” Alexander responded curtly. He wasn’t even attempting tocooperate.

So much for trying to find a middleground.

“As you wish,” Dr. Tumblin said and directed his attention to me. “Krystina, Alex and I revisited the concern you mentioned lastweek.”

“Krystina and I have already talked about this,” Alexander hissed through gritted teeth. “She knows where I stand on the matter. Having further discussion about it ispointless.”

Dr. Tumblin’s face remained impassive. Alexander’s jaw had an angry tick. I took that as a warning sign, as I knew it meant he was nearing his breakingpoint.

“Krystina is concerned about the increased frequency of your night terrors,” Dr. Tumblin said patiently, despite Alexander’s obviousagitation.

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