Page 10

? ? ?

After therapy, I came home and stayed in for the night.

I briefly texted Zion and Sarai who invited me over for breakfast the next morning.

I also texted Kaia, but I made sure to keep it short just in case our conversation verged into going out this weekend or how therapy went.

Kaia was already tired from her day of classes so she didn't question how brief I was with her.

Since we all have class tomorrow, I have a good excuse not to drink.

Not even a mimosa.

Sarai is also making breakfast and I doubt she's preparing any alcoholic drinks.

"Look who's only five minutes late," Zion joked as I walked into their familiar bright apartment.

I smiled, "Ki will be at least fifteen minutes late so be thankful I'm almost on time," I said, inhaling the scent of fresh coffee and buttery biscuits.

Heaven.

This is heaven.

"I made all your favorites, Libs," Sarai called out, standing in front of the stove as I curiously walked over toward her to see.

There was a pot of sausage gravy, a pan of freshly baked biscuits, a bowl of cut-up strawberries, and cheesy scrambled eggs that Sarai was finishing up.

"Ugh, I love you," I sighed dramatically, pulling her into a side hug as she continued focusing on the scrambled eggs.

"Aw, I love you too Libs," Sarai didn't hesitate to say with a smile, "You and your damn near half-brother over there too, or I wouldn't be cooking in the morning."

Zion chuckled, "We both appreciate you," he said, grabbing plates for the table, "Right Libs?"

I nodded immediately, "Oh of course," I said, walking over to grab napkins and silverware, "You really need to teach me how to cook."

Sarai glanced over to me immediately, "I thought you didn't want to learn so I would be in charge of cooking for everyone?" she asked in amusement, raising a brow.

I shrugged, "I have to learn eventually," I said, suddenly having the urge to cook less basic dishes.

"What happened to finding a rich woman with a chef that cooks for you?" Zion asked, naturally making me laugh.

"Damn guys, never mind then," I joked, walking over toward the table and setting the napkins and silverware down.

"No-no, I want to teach you," Sarai said, cutting the stove off.

"Yeah we could host like a fake cooking class on the weekends," Zion offered.

"We?" Sarai emphasized with an amused smile.

"I'm the one who grills things," Zion pointed out, earning a playful eye roll from his girlfriend.

"Fine, I'll teach her to cook and you'll be on grilling duties," Sarai determined, earning a satisfied nod from me, "Want to do this weekend?" she asked me.

"Or will you and Hurricane Kaia be out for two nights straight?" Zion jokingly asked me.

I rolled my eyes at him, "No actually," I said as I picked up the bowl of strawberries to transfer over to the table, "I'm staying in this weekend—you know, trying out something more lowkey."

I set the glass bowl down on the table with a soft clatter, turning around to help bring more of the dishes over to the table.

Until I noticed the silence.

Or Sarai and Zion staring at me as if I were a fucking alien or something.

"Seriously?" I asked with an amused smile, staring between them.

"Don't freak out," Sarai whispered to Zion, "They sense fear."

My amused smile grew, "I can take a break from going out guys—it's totally normal," I emphasized.

Zion nodded once.

And then again.

"Right-right, and so this is set in stone or..." he trailed off, wanting to know how serious I was about this.

"Yeah, my therapist and I have a thing going," I briefly explained as Sarai grabbed the tray of biscuits, "You know I always win."

Sarai smiled as she walked past me, "Well, I love this for you—even if it's just about winning," she said, setting the tray down on the table.

"Me too," Zion said, walking over to me and pulling me into a brief side hug, "How is therapy?"

Sarai nodded, "Yes, spill the details," she said, walking over to grab the bowl of gravy next.

"It's actually pretty good so far," I said, pursing my lips at my words, "It was weird at first but I think it's kind of decent now."

Zion's brows raised at my words, "That's great Libs," he said, smiling as he nudged me.

"See, I knew embracing it would work out much better for you," Sarai pointed out with a smile as Zion walked over to the kitchen, grabbing the pan of eggs and a bowl to transfer them into.

"Yeah, embracing it isn't the worst," I said, my lips spreading into a smile against my own wishes.

"You have this glow about you," Sarai said as I walked over to the table, sitting across from her as Zion walked over with the eggs.

I jokingly rolled my eyes, "It's the skincare," I said, playing it off as I grabbed a plate.

A few knocks sounded at the door before anyone could say anything else.

Kaia's finally here, and only seven minutes late.

That's a record.

"I got it," Zion said, backing away from us to open the door for her.

I grabbed one biscuit from the tray, opening it and laying it on my plate before grabbing the ladle in the bowl of gravy.

"Happy Wednesday!" Kaia called out with her usual bright smile, dressed in jeans and a baby pink long-sleeve.

My outfit was casual for class today since I only had one.

I wore black leggings and a sweatshirt that I cut at the neckline so it rested off my shoulders.

"Happy Wednesday, Ki," I said with a smile, scooping some scrambled eggs onto my plate.

"Happy Wednesday," Sarai hummed, smiling as she made her plate as well.

I added some strawberries to top my plate off before impatiently digging in.

"How's your morning going?" Zion asked Kaia as they both sat down at the table.

Zion sat beside Sarai and Kaia sat next to me.

"Great if I didn't have class," Kaia sighed, setting her phone on the table with a soft clatter as she grabbed a plate.

"I wouldn't survive if I had fully in-person classes," I admitted, earning a nod from Zion.

We're under the same major so our schedules look almost the same, but he only has one class instead of two.

He overloaded on classes the last two semesters to make his last one easier.

I only overloaded last semester and that shit nearly killed me.

It damn near felt like a fever dream.

"It's so fucking hard—I can't wait to be done with this shit," Kaia mumbled as she made her plate.

"You'll get through it and it's your last semester," I assured her, earning a hum of agreement from my best friend, "Zi and I have class together today so I know it won't be that bad," I added, knowing we would pass the time together.

I also had a guaranteed partner for team projects, and Zion always lent me his notes if I ever missed class.

He did it last semester too.

"Yeah and it's my only class this semester," Zion said as he made his plate with a couple of biscuits and gravy on top.

"Must be fucking nice," Kaia said, grabbing her fork to start eating.

I nodded as I chewed a few times, deciding to be quiet for once.

I knew I needed to tell Kaia about the drinking topic, but I didn't want to start the day like that so I decided to wait.

Sarai and Zion luckily didn't bring it up—although, that's never really their thing.

If it's not specifically about them, they don't bring it up before you can.

But I still wished I had brought the topic up at breakfast since I thought about it all morning.

Even as we all headed to class.

Zion and Sarai's apartment is near campus so we all got to walk together like old times.

And Kaia didn't notice anything was off, but I guess she won't until I decide not to drink.

I don't know why I'm nervous, I think she'll be fine.

I mean, it's my life and my decision.

It still didn't stop it from weighing on my brain all day, wondering when I would tell her.

Kaia had classes all day, so I was unsure if she would have enough energy to come over.

I made Dino nuggets and fries for dinner, knowing it was Kaia's favorite, so I would have an excuse to invite her over.

She would come anyway if I asked but I didn't want her to think I was inviting her over purely to discuss this topic.

Then it would be a bigger deal than necessary.

"It smells sooo good in here," Kaia said, walking into my apartment.

She wore the same outfit from earlier since she just came from class.

"Who's excited?" I asked with a growing smile, walking to the kitchen and adding our preferred sauces to the plates loaded with nuggets and fries.

"Oh I'm starving, so really excited," Kaia joked, walking over to sit at the kitchen island as I slid one of the finished plates over to her.

My smile grew when she hummed in excitement, grabbing a nugget and dipping it in the barbecue sauce I put on her plate.

I slid my own plate across the counter, rounding the island to sit beside Kaia.

I purposely had cups of fresh ice water for us to drink rather than wine.

"So how were classes?" I asked her as I grabbed a few fries to dip in ketchup.

"Not terrible—just really long," Kaia said, chewing a few times as she glanced over to me, "How was your day?"

I shrugged, "Normal—I went to the gym again after class and got set up for the online part of my other hybrid class," I told her, picking up one of the nuggets.

"That's good," Kaia said with her usual smile.

I hummed, nodding a few times as I tried to internally plan my next words.

"So, you know, I've decided not to drink for like a week or so," I suddenly said, trying not to stumble over my words.

Kaia immediately glanced over to me, "Really?" she asked curiously.

But she wasn't angry or upset so that was a good sign.

"Yeah, Dr. Leclair challenged me to try for a week, so..." I trailed off, picking up a few more fries.

"Well, if that's what you want," Kaia said, taking a bite of her nugget, "I just wouldn't do it to prove a point to anyone, especially not an uptight therapist."

I blinked a few times, trying not to feel offended by her words.

They were about Dr. Leclair.

Not me.

So why do I feel standoffish about it?

"It's more of encouragement," I corrected her, dipping my fries in ranch, "She thinks I can do it."

Kaia hummed lazily, "That's nice," she murmured, focusing on eating her food.

I slid some more fries into my mouth, trying not to think too much of the silence between us.

"We're good though right?" I asked before I could think it through, already overthinking this.

"Yes, Libby," Kaia said with a smile, chewing a few times, "I just want you to be happy."

I smiled slightly at her words, "That means a lot, Ki," I admitted, gently nudging my shoulder against hers.

Kaia hummed softly in acknowledgment, "I got your back always," she assured me, picking up another nugget, "I'm your ride or die bitch remember?"

My smile widened, "Yes of course," I murmured happily, feeling content by how well this conversation went.

I think the other day was bad for her, especially since it was the first day of classes.

It was probably just stress and exhaustion.

Tonight was better and much more productive for us, given we didn't drink.

Kaia didn't have to skip out on wine if she truly wanted it, but she decided to chill with me tonight.

We scrolled through TikTok on our phones for a couple of hours before Kaia decided to head over to her place and get started on her homework.

She had a decent amount since her professors were already assigning stuff.

I got lucky in that department and spent my night as I pleased.

Thoughts of Dr. Leclair crossed my mind, feeling weirdly excited to tell her how everything went with Kaia.

Also, how Zion and Sarai support me too.

I never imagined it, but therapy seems to be getting better with each session.

I also didn't think I would ever look forward to it, but that's changed too.

? ? ?

The next day, I anticipated when five o'clock would finally roll around.

I tried to focus on anything else but it was fucking hard—even if I had just been there Tuesday.

I even started getting ready two hours before my appointment since I had grown bored of scrolling through TikTok.

My curls were a little looser now since it's been a couple of days, but they were cute—almost like an effortless look.

I picked out a black tank top bodysuit, which clung to my curves, emphasizing my cleavage.

To stick with the effortless and casual look, I pulled on a pair of black sweatpants, leaving them a little lower on my hips to reveal a bit of my hips exposed by the bodysuit.

I pulled on a black bolero to match it, opting for that over a cropped jacket to help emphasize my shape.

My makeup was natural, illuminating my features with my normal lip combo glistening on my lips.

I slipped on a pair of chunky black sneakers, spraying myself with perfume before leaving my bedroom entirely.

I was ten minutes ahead of schedule, which is very fucking rare.

On top of that, traffic wasn't as bad as it usually is at four o'clock.

The time read 4:47 pm on my lock screen as I stood in the elevator wondering if I was too early.

But I remembered she leaves thirty-minute gaps between sessions, so maybe it's fine.

I glanced away from my phone when the elevator dinged open, revealing the familiar dim lobby.

I walked off immediately, heading toward the front desk as usual.

Until I noticed her presence.

Her back was to me, but I quickly recognized her silky dark hair cascading down her back.

She wore a dark blue sweater with light dress pants and matching loafers, for once not wearing her usual heels.

It was the most casual I had seen her, and for some reason, I couldn't fucking look away.

"Liberty!" Sienna called out with a wide smile, glancing away from Dr. Leclair.

Whose head immediately turned in my direction, her eyes locking with mine.

I quickly noticed how her blue sweater emphasized her eyes, making me wonder why she didn't wear blue more often.

Until I realized how insane that sounded.

"Am I interrupting?" I asked, realizing they were in the middle of a conversation.

Suddenly, I was recalling the phone call I overheard when I first met Dr. Leclair at The Archive.

She was talking to Sienna, telling her to go home.

"You're never interrupting," Sienna waved me off, her genuine smile growing.

Her face was bare but glowy under the dim lighting, her dark hair in a high bun.

I glanced over, noticing the empty seat beside Sienna, "Where's Reagan?" I asked, weirdly thinking about them out here alone together.

What do they even talk about?

Probably scheduling or work stuff, Dr. Leclair is literally her boss—I thought internally.

I need to chill.

"She left early due to personal reasons," Dr. Leclair said, her words as professional as expected.

"Okay," I said, unsure what to say as I glanced between Sienna and Dr. Leclair, "So what are we talking about?"

I cringed internally as soon as the words left my lips.

But fuck did I want to know what it's like talking to Dr. Leclair outside of being her patient.

Dr. Leclair rolled her lips into a pursed line, although I could notice the subtle amusement.

It was so subtle that I almost wondered if I hallucinated it.

Or maybe I wished I did.

"Let's go to my office, Liberty," Dr. Leclair told me, her blue eyes holding mine.

"Have a good session," Sienna told me as I walked past Dr. Leclair toward the hallway.

I only hummed in acknowledgment at Sienna's kind words, trying to be nice to her.

But suddenly it felt really fucking hard.

"How has your week been so far?" Dr. Leclair asked me as I walked over to the couch, sitting down as she gently closed the door.

"Pretty good, doc," I said, trying to fight the urge to bring up Sienna.

Then I wondered why I cared enough to fight the urge.

I always say whatever I want.

"You know, I remember hearing you on the phone with Sienna," I decided to say, keeping my tone casual as I watched her sit down in the chair across from me and smoothly cross her leg over the other, "It was at The Archive."

Dr. Leclair hummed softly, "I'm happy that you're doing good, Liberty," was the first thing she decided to address with me.

Naturally, I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering if she was purposely avoiding this topic.

Everything she does seems purposeful or calculated so that alone answers my question.

"I remember the phone call as well," Dr. Leclair stated, addressing the topic that I previously assumed she was going to avoid.

"You two seem close," I murmured, trying to sound neutral as I held her stare.

But deep down inside I was a little...

Curious.

I think that's all it is honestly.

"She's my receptionist," Dr. Leclair said, calmly clasping her hands in her lap, "We work closely by nature."

I hummed, "Right, you work closely," I emphasized her words, wondering what that pertained to.

Dr. Leclair tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes trailing my face momentarily.

She was silent almost in thought, analyzing our current conversation.

Until she suddenly said—

"What's on your mind, Liberty?"

I shrugged, "Nothing, I was just curious about how close you are," I said, deciding to be honest since she's definitely read the room between us.

"We're appropriately close," Dr. Leclair said, her stare holding mine with precision, "Nothing more," she added, understanding the direction I was going.

"So the phone call," I said, my lips twitching up slightly as I circled back to that topic.

"I don't tolerate any of my employees working late, Liberty," Dr. Leclair calmly explained, her eyes narrowing slightly at my assumption.

I suddenly thought back to the phone call, remembering how Monroe specifically told her to go home.

How it wasn't a suggestion.

I nodded once, suddenly piecing it together, "Right, of course," I said, my voice lowered almost in thought.

Dr. Leclair seemed to analyze me for another moment, her stare never wavering from my face.

It was another brief silence between us.

Until she softly cleared her throat, "Expand on how you've been," she said, her voice smooth and lowered, "I would appreciate a more detailed answer."

I nodded, blinking a few times as I tried to verge away from our previous topic.

Even if a small part of me felt weirdly content knowing my assumptions were just that.

An assumption.

"It's been calmer—I've been settling in with school," I told her, relaxing back against the couch, "I also told my friends about quitting alcohol for a week."

Dr. Leclair hummed in approval, "That's really good, Liberty," she said as I nodded a few times, "How did that go?" she asked, her eyes holding mine.

"Really good. Zion and Sarai were supportive," I told her, thinking back to breakfast yesterday, "And Kaia also seemed supportive too."

"Seemed?" Dr. Leclair emphasized the word I unconsciously chose.

"She just didn't want me proving a point to anyone," I tried my best to explain, pursing my lips as I thought about my next words, "As in you," I awkwardly said.

Dr. Leclair nodded, "I don't want you proving anything to me either, Liberty," she didn't hesitate to say, "This is about proving to yourself that taking a break from alcohol is not only manageable, but crucial for your mental and physical health," she briefly explained.

"Yeah," I said, nodding a few times in agreement, "I told her that you're only encouraging me," I added, wanting her to know that I didn't see it as proving anything to her.

The only thing that pertained to her was the reward, but that's why I see it as a form of encouragement.

"I'm glad that you feel my support, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, her voice softer with me and making goosebumps roll down my body, "In the end, you're the one who has to feel comfortable with the changes you're making, not because of someone else's expectations, but because it's what's best for you."

I nodded in agreement, internally wishing Dr. Leclair was there last night to explain this all to Kaia for me.

She would've done a much better job.

"Do you believe you deserve what's best for you?" Dr. Leclair suddenly asked me, her stare holding mine.

"Definitely," I answered, my tone filled with confidence.

Because I know what I deserve.

"Say it then," Dr. Leclair said, her words smooth and encouraging.

The three words made a jolt run through my body, my nails subtly digging into the couch underneath me as I tried to fight the annoying sensation away.

She didn't mean it that way, but all I could think about were those words in so many other scenarios.

Explicit scenarios.

I suddenly cleared my throat, "I deserve what's best for me," I forced out, realizing I had been silent for a few seconds too long.

My words were softer, unable to meet her stare as I said them.

"Do you practice words of affirmation, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me as I physically forced myself to meet her deep blue eyes.

"No," I said, furrowing my brows, "Does that even work?" I asked, wondering if it was truly just bullshit.

Dr. Leclair hummed, "Self-talk is important," she said, bringing her hand up to rest delicately under her chin, "Affirmations improve self-talk—including subconscious self-talk that can be harder to reprogram."

I nodded almost slowly, visibly processing her words for a moment.

"Self-talk leads to self-belief—if you tell yourself you're lazy then you'll believe you're lazy," Dr. Leclair explained further, noticing my confusion, "But you're not lazy, are you, Liberty?"

I pursed my lips into a smile, almost wanting to joke that I was.

Or that I can be.

Dr. Leclair raised a brow in response, "Your body needs to rest some days, but that's not equivalent to laziness," she quickly corrected me even if I didn't say my thoughts aloud.

"I know, I was just going to joke about it, doc," I explained, my smile growing slightly.

But Dr. Leclair wasn't having it.

"Your subconscious absorbs everything you say—whether you're serious or not," Dr. Leclair said, making me awkwardly purse my lips. She made a good point, "Let's start with observing what you say about yourself, even if it's in your head or aloud."

I nodded at her suggestion, "On it, doc," I said, jokingly saluting her.

Dr. Leclair nodded once in response, "Good, Liberty," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, "You should be proud of how much progress you're making."

I smiled slightly, "Therapy isn't as bad as I thought," I admitted with a shrug, "Or maybe I'm biased because you're just that great doc," I added, my tone growing softer with her.

"You're just that great," Dr. Leclair twisted my words back to me, "You do the real work in and out of this office, Liberty."

I hummed at her words, trying not to be affected in such an obvious way.

But how she praises me makes my face heat up whether I like it or not.

I genuinely couldn't hold eye contact with her for at least a few minutes after, still looping her words in my head as we circled over to the topic of my mother.

The last session was about what triggers me, and this session we discussed what I can control when I get triggered.

It was nice switching the perspective to what I could control when triggered by something my mother does.

Each session I feel like we make more progress, making me wonder if I should've started therapy years ago.

Maybe I wouldn't be so affected by my mother.

Or self-regulated more efficiently, as Dr. Leclair worded it.

This is really good for me, I'm starting to feel it.