Page 37 of Happily Never After

“I know it’s hard for you when there’s something you can’t control.” Dr. Goulding spoke low and slow, like she was soothing a child. “But you can’t control this. The only thing you can control is how you react.”

Claire harrumphed and crossed her arms. Several seconds passed in silence.

“Have you given any more thought to starting the medication I mentioned?” The doctor’s eyebrows raised.

Not the meds again. “The meditation and cardio routine are working just fine.” Endorphins were better than drugs.

Dr. Goulding opened her mouth, then shut it, took a deep breath, and started again. Oh boy, now she was pissing off her therapist.

“Okay,” the doctor said. “For now, let’s keep working on our breathing exercises and meditations. You had a hard couple of days. Please make sure you do the exercises before bed, and maybe take some extra precautions.”

That was fair. “Okay,” Claire said. “I’m sorry. For being difficult. I just don’t want to resort to medication if I don’t have to.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Dr. Goulding had a ghost of a smile. “It’s always your choice. I’m just here to point you in the right direction. Have a good night, Claire.”

The screen went black. Claire closed her eyes and banished all thoughts of ESA. She emptied her mind and took long, slow breaths. Her heart rate settled. Her shoulders fell away from her ears. See? She didn’t need medication.

She rose from her desk and stepped out into the hallway. Both dogs greeted her before sprinting to the kitchen. Lukestood at the sink with his back to her, kitchen towel slung over one broad shoulder.

“Hey,” she said.

He turned around. There was definitely a hint of defensiveness in his eyes. “For the record, I didn’t call her because I didn’t want to listen to you. I thought she would be more help.”

“It’s fine. But no more therapy ambushes, okay?”

Luke nodded. He slid a glass of red wine across the bar.

“Want to talk about it?” His sea green eyes were laser-fixed on her.

She sipped from the glass and rolled her neck. “I really don’t.” Dedicating more mental space to the team of homicidal incels was not happening. She picked up the spatula from the drying rack and tucked it in its designated drawer. “Did I tell you Brianna invited us to the premiere of her movie? It’s the weekend after we’re supposed to leave LA, but we could come home in between.”

“Nice,” he said. He seemed to be relieved that she wasn’t shouting at him. “Put it in our calendar. I’ll have to see my tailor when we get to the city.”

“That got me thinking. And this is not work related, I’m just curious. When will the premiere for your documentary be?”

Rosie came over and licked Luke’s ankle as if to encourage him.

“Docs don’t have premieres. Streaming parties, maybe. But probably not.”

Claire stopped and turned to face him. “Nothing? They didn’t do anything for your last doc?”

He shrugged. “It’s not cinema.”

She pounded a hand on the island. “Absolutely not. You are an Emmy-nominated film maker. We won’t stand for that.” She reached for her phone.

“You’re about to plan a premiere for me, aren’t you? Here in West Haven?”

She froze with her phone half pulled out of her pocket. “No.”

“Is there anything I can say to stop you?”

Claire laughed. “I would love to see you try.”

He frowned and stored the frying pan in the cabinet. “You shouldn’t be adding another event to your plate. You already have too much going on.”

She bumped her hip against him. “For you, nothing is too much trouble.”

A hint of a smile appeared. “I still say don’t do it. But because I know you won’t listen, here’s some ground rules. No Jet Skis or parades. Reserved seats for the victims right in the front row.”

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