Page 46 of Pretty Black

“I don’t really want to talk about it. It’s nothing against you. I don’t talk to anyone.”

“Even your boyfriend?” she asked.

I nodded.

“Do you think that is part of the issue between you two?” she asked.

“How do you know there is an issue between us?” My eyes flashed to hers.

“You told me you just got back together. That would suggest…” She trailed off, lifting her brows.

“Right.” I shoved both hands into my hair, focusing on breathing. “I just want to leave.”

“You can’t leave for another forty-eight hours at least, and I want to help you. I want to make sure they don’t fight for an extended hold, Iris. I will recommend that they release you, but this also has to be based on sound evidence you will not walk out of here and hurt yourself. The ethics of my job are important, and if you do walk out of here and hurt yourself, my job and everyone who helped you here will be under a microscope. I’m not saying that to put our jobs on your head or emotionally blackmail you. I am informing you so you understand why I can’t just sign a piece of paper and say you’re fine without doing my due diligence. I would be doing you and everyone else who gets help here and everyone who works here a disservice by not making sure you are okay. I understand you do not want to be here, and it’s probably harder for you to be here and risk it getting leaked than not. It’s important to me to do my part in the process, and I’m only asking that you work with me. I promise you I will not do you the harm others before me have.”

I didn’t want to hate her for pointing out those things, but I also didn’t trust anyone. “And when the court asks for your records of our sessions and those become public? Or get leaked by Alexander or anyone else. Because I’m already being threatened with my trauma being put on display for public consumption; I’m not going to risk opening my fucking soul to allow more of it. Not while all of this is going on.”

She set aside her notebook and leaned forward to put her elbows on her desk, fingers over her lips. “I have to keep records, and I have to give them over if requested by the courts—hmm—what if I promise to keep notes about our sessions as vague as possible? Would that make you feel more comfortable?”

“Vague, how?” I asked, not agreeing to anything.

“Something like ‘patient discussed being blackmailed and his feelings about his life being as public as it is.’ Or ‘patient discussed his struggle with management and being overworked during emotional distress.’ I can make it not look so great for Alexander, and since that is your experience, it’s not a lie. I can keep my ethics, we can talk, and more importantly, you can have an outlet. You can’t keep it all in anymore. I see how it’s eating at you.”

I hadn’t trusted anyone since Cas, and not even him fully. River some, but after Cas, it felt impossible to trust another human with any of the words on my soul. Music had always been my only outlet.

I wanted to trust her. I wanted to trust someone. I wanted to feel safe with another person. I stood, holding out my hand. “I want your word.”

She stood and took my hand in both of hers. “I promise, not only with my medical oath to do no harm but also as another human, a survivor, and soul who has dealt with suicide in my own life. I will protect you the best I can.”

The last part gave me more comfort than the rest. Humans were selfish, and a lot of them would do horrible things for money despite the ethics of their jobs. How many death announcements broke on TMZ before even their families knew?

“Thank you.”

She gestured for me to have my seat again but didn’t pick up her notebook. “Alexander threatened you, which is how you ended up on the roof that night. What is on your phone that worries you the most? Are you sure it’s not an idle threat?”

I looked out the window, unable to make eye contact. “He has it. He said enough to make it clear. I have calls and voicemails from my brother on there. I have thelastvoicemail from my brother.”

“Was his suicide note in the form of a voicemail?”

“Yes.” I struggled to get that single word out.

“Do you listen to it often?”

“No.” I pulled my knees into my chest, not wanting to relive any of this, but what did it really matter? I would as soon as I closed my eyes without drugs or someone near. Every night here would be hell. “I don’t have to listen to it. It replays in my head whenever I’m alone.”

“Do you want to tell me about it?”

“No. I’d rather not.”

“Do you feel guilty for leaving him?”

My gaze snapped back to hers, shock running through me. No one had ever suspected before. I rarely even hinted at how bad my home life was. Sure, Cas and River had seen some of it. The bruises and marks, but they didn’tunderstand. No one would understand. “Every fucking day.”

“I’m sure that is a hard burden to carry.”

“How did you know?”

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Iris. It’s not obvious. I wouldn’t worry about others suspecting it.” She smiled warmly. “It’s hard to leave someone we know is struggling to pursue our own lives, but we can’t put that burden on our own shoulders. It wasn’t your responsibility to take care of him. It’s no one’s fault.”

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