Page 125 of Imperfect Player

She’s gone.

Just like I wanted her to be. Like I told her to be.

“Fuck!” I scream into the empty room.

Despite the fact that I told her to leave—that I wanted her to leave—a part of me is angry at her for actually doing it. For walking out on me. For walking away. For being just like everyone else.

Even if it’s my own fault. Even if I pushed her.

It’s stupid.

Illogical.

It’s as fucked up as I am.

Just another reason she’s better off without me.

Yet when I hear the door open again, a small piece of me hopes that it’s her. Not to end things, but rather to embrace her, hold her. One. Last. Time.

It’s not Everly that enters the room.

It’s Dr. Monroe.

Right now, I’m not sure whether or not to be grateful for it.

“Is everything okay?” he asks.

“No.”

“Want to talk about it?”

I hate that fucking question.

“No.”

“Well, it’s time for our session, we could—”

I shake my head. “I said no.”

“Ethan. Therapy is a huge part of your recovery.”

“I know that!” I shout. “Just . . . just not today.”

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

“I’m not in the mood,” I tell him, the words coming out as more of a growl.

“That’s when we need therapy the most.”

The fact that I’m not ready to talk about it is only part of the problem. The other part is that I already know what he’s going to tell me.

Pushing Everly away is wrong. Trying to do this alone is wrong.

Basically he’s going to tell me I’m fucking wrong about everything, and after seeing that hurt look in Everly’s eyes, my emotions are running too fucking high right now without me having a place to hide.

“The problem is, Everly’s gone.”

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

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