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I filled Dr Schmidt in about the little things I’d been doing.

“I bought myself one of these zen colouring books. I don’t have a lot of time to sit and colour, but I like it.” My cheeks heated. But, fuck, if I couldn’t tell my therapist, I couldn’t tell anyone.

“I’m glad to hear that. I think having a hobby is something you could profit from. Maybe you can think of something else that interests you? Something you’ve been wanting to try for a while but never got around to doing?”

“Well, I’ve been reading, and I like watching those pottery videos on Kraken…”

“Good. Maybe don’t buy a kiln just yet, but I’m sure you could find a pottery class in Veitsreuth. Just an idea,” he hedged.

“I’ll look into it, yeah. I don’t have a lot of time, though.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned that. Perhaps it isn’t so much abouthavingtime butmakingthe time to do something for yourself that isn’t part of your work.”

Ouch.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I also wanted to show you this.” I pulled out my phone and opened my photo app. I held it up so he could see the picture I’d taken before I left for the appointment.

“You’ve been going on daily walks?”

“Yeah, I have.” I rubbed a hand over my nape. “Even on the days when I didn’t feel like it. You know, I can see through your scheme there but skipping a day isn’t an option for my brain.”

“Gamification. It works.” Schmidt grinned. “So do daily walks. It sucks but that’s just how it is.”

I snorted at his words. “It totally sucks. Like, I find it offensive how great I feel when I walk in the forest. I was never an outdoorsy person, but the other day I bought a pair of fucking hiking boots?!”

Schmidt chuckled. Then he gave me a list with three appointments for the tests he had scheduled for me.

“Each will take about an hour. Do you think you could organise it so you won’t have anything strenuous going on at work afterwards? These tests can be quite taxing.”

“Oh, yeah, sure thing.”

Should I be nervous?

“Great, I’ll see you next week.”

I took my leave. I grabbed a second workout tracker on my way out the door. I wanted to keep colouring in those damned trees.

On Wednesday and Thursday my walks were hasty turns around the court gardens right after getting up. With the games in the evening, I had no time for longer strolls, but if I squinted I could pretend Jules was waiting under one of the archways in the ancient stone walls that crossed through the garden.

Never tell anyone you’re imagining this, Nikolai. They’ll think you’ve lost your marbles.

On Saturday morning, I threw a few things into a backpack and got in my car. I hadn’t managed to convince myself that it had all been a dream. A sliver of doubt and hope mingled in my heart.

He has to be real. I can’t meet a sexy hermit twink daddy in the forest and have it all be a dream.

Lifewascruel, but not like that.Please.

Well, if it was a dream, you’ll see in a couple of minutes.

I had a vague idea where the arch was. If Jules was real, I should be able to find it again, shouldn’t I?

Twelve

Jules

AllthroughFridayIbusied myself with the last preparations. I tried not to imagine how I would feel if Saturday passed without Nikolai showing up. Yet before my inner eye, I saw myself sitting alone at the kitchen table, eating a lonely slice of the pie.

He will come. He promised.