Page 14 of Consumed

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The rest of the weekend passed at a painstakingly slow pace.

It felt like Monday couldn't come fast enough.

I tried to pass time—like hanging out with Zion and Sarai all day Saturday and then staying the night for a movie night.

I planned to head home since I didn't want to third-wheel them, but they insisted that I stay, and surprisingly it was far from the third-wheeling I envisioned.

If anything, it was fun watching different movies with them and eating popcorn.

Their couch is also really comfortable to sleep on and Sarai made breakfast for us the next morning.

I helped a little bit by cooking the eggs, but that was pretty easy for me.

Sarai handled the pancakes on the griddle and Zion got the bacon in the oven.

Kaia had texted me a few more times trying to talk, but I stayed strong and didn't answer.

Sarai and Zion were right—I already stated that I'm putting space between us.

There's nothing to discuss right now.

All day Sunday I focused on doing assignments for my classes, which were ironically due that night at 11:59 pm.

They weren't that difficult though—it only took me a couple of hours to finish, and it took my mind off tomorrow's therapy session that I couldn't stop thinking about.

I also cleaned my apartment and did a wash day to refresh my curls.

I was surprisingly in bed by eight, trying to feel tired so I could fall asleep early.

White noise didn't work—all I did was lay in the dark for over an hour, unable to fall asleep.

I had to take melatonin gummies, turning on Netflix to focus on a show instead.

That's when I finally fell asleep—halfway through the show I was knocked out, nestled under the soft grey blanket and my comforters.

The next morning, I was awake at seven, making my bed, and then deciding to hit the gym and kill time.

I didn't do much, just the Stairmaster for twenty minutes and a few AB exercises I looked up online.

After that, I came back home and got ready for the day.

I didn't put a lot of effort into my look for classes.

I wore my curly hair down, pulling on a grey long-sleeve shirt and navy sweatpants with a pair of Nike's.

After getting ready, I made myself breakfast—which only consisted of Cinnamon Toast Crunch and a toaster waffle when I still felt hungry.

I still had hours to kill until class so I decided to get ahead in my classes—at least the online portion.

Some assignments for the semester were already unlocked, so I focused all my attention and effort on those for over two hours.

Then it was finally time for class, which I never imagined I would be excited to go to.

I don't think I've ever felt this bored in my life—trying to fill my time with something to do.

Kaia would normally help keep me busy, but I tried not to think of that right now.

If anything that was the last thing I allowed inside my mind, focusing on my class that unfortunately finished early.

Then I still had three hours until my therapy session.

I went for a run after class to kill even more time, grabbing Chipotle after.

It was supposed to be lunch, but it turned into a late lunch considering I didn't finish my run until three-forty.

For once today, I was rushing to get ready, especially since I knew four o'clock traffic would essentially be the worst.

My curls looked good enough to keep down, so that was one less problem.

I quickly did my makeup, applying concealer and liquid blush to my cheekbones.

I also gelled down my brows as usual and applied a brown lip liner with a pinkish-nude gloss.

For my outfit, I wore light denim jeans that sat low on my hips, hugging me just right without feeling too tight.

I paired them with a cropped white tank top, pulling on a black leather long-sleeve shirt over it—left open and tied loosely at the front with a thin string.

For jewelry, I wore a gold pendant necklace that rested against my collarbone, catching the light every time I moved.

I also wore a pair of hoop earrings, spraying myself in my usual sweet perfume before rushing out of my room.

My Adidas pattered against the floor, exiting my apartment and heading down the hallway to the familiar elevator.

I couldn't stand in the elevator without thinking of her standing in the same spot as me just nights ago.

But I pushed the thoughts away, deciding to focus on the task at hand.

I'm on time but I knew traffic would put me at least five minutes behind.

The stoplights are really what make me late, especially at busy intersections.

By the time I got parked and walked inside the building, I was already ten minutes late.

That doesn't include getting on the elevator and making it up to the forty-fifth floor.

At that point, I was verging on fifteen minutes late.

"Hi, Liberty," Sienna greeted me first with a wide smile.

I pursed my lips into a smile, trying not to be irritated by her, "Hi," I said, walking over to the front desk, "I'm here for my session—it was supposed to be at five."

Sienna quickly nodded, "Of course, Dr. Leclair is ready for you now," she said, standing from her chair beside Reagan.

Why is she standing?

I don't need to be walked.

"I know where her office is," I quickly assured Sienna as she rounded the desk.

"Oh, I just needed to ask Dr. Leclair something," Sienna briefly explained, glancing over to Reagan, "I'll only be a minute," she told her coworker, earning a nod from Reagan who seemed to be focused on her computer.

Sienna should be focused on her computer.

I pursed my lips tighter together, reluctantly following Sienna down the familiar hallway to Dr. Leclair's office.

The door was left open, but Sienna still briefly knocked on it as we walked inside, allowing me to inhale the familiar jasmine scent.

Dr. Leclair was seated at her desk for once, glancing up from her laptop.

My eyes froze on her immediately, taking in the black aviator glasses she wore.

Her soft brown hair was down in subtle waves, her bangs framing her face perfectly.

I glanced down when she stood from her desk, my eyes trailing her entire appearance.

She wore a black pin-stripe blazer with matching dress pants, her sharp stilettos clicking against the floors.

Her brows furrowed, but for once the expression didn't pertain to me.

Dr. Leclair's focus was annoyingly on Sienna.

"Is there an issue, Sienna?" Dr. Leclair calmly asked her, walking over to us.

Sienna quickly shook her head, "No, I just wanted to make sure I shouldn't stay late... there's a lot of new patient paperwork to process," she said, probably the lamest excuse to speak with Dr. Leclair.

I didn't even realize I rolled my eyes until Dr. Leclair's stare shifted to me.

Her redirected attention made a warmth burn underneath my face, trying to play my previous actions off.

Dr. Leclair rolled her lips into a pursed line, and I couldn't tell if I was imagining the corners of her lips begging to twitch up in amusement.

"Handle the paperwork tomorrow," was all she said to Sienna, her attention now placed back on her.

"But it's a lot, and I'm really behind," Sienna tried to explain as Dr. Leclair's eyes noticeably trailed her face—probably analyzing everything she's currently telling her.

"I don't tolerate anyone working late, Sienna. We've been over this," Dr. Leclair calmly said, walking past us both, her familiar sweet scent mixed with her cologne breezing past us, "I would appreciate it if you could spend the rest of your time working on paperwork. Liberty's session was supposed to start over fifteen minutes ago."

I blinked a few times, picking up on how she specifically highlighted how late I was.

How did I manage to get dragged into this?

"Of course," Sienna quickly said, verging over to the door that Dr. Leclair stood by.

Sienna flashed us one last smile, walking past Dr. Leclair and out of her office.

Finally.

I remained silent as I watched her calmly close the door, walking over to take her usual seat across from me while I settled on the couch.

Her presence was surprisingly irritating.

Mostly because I didn't realize she could get more attractive wearing something as simple as glasses.

I couldn't focus properly, resisting the urge to check her out for a second time.

"How has your day been, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me, smoothly crossing her leg over the other with her attention on me.

"Good," I said, briefly pursing my lips as I stared at her, "How has yours been? Sienna seems attentive."

My words were ingenuine.

She knew they were ingenuine.

It was odd, it's like her face didn't reveal where her thoughts were.

But her eyes...

Suddenly, I could read them a little better.

"My day has been good," Dr. Leclair decided to say, her stare not wavering from mine, "Is there more you want to add to your observation?"

I lazily raised my brows at her words, "No," I murmured, glancing away from her, "I feel like Sienna coming back here and offering to work late is enough of an observation," I added even if I had previously declined to add anything.

"How is it enough of an observation, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me as I continued to stare past her.

I rolled my eyes, "She's clearly flirting with you," I pointed out.

"Is that any different than what you do?"

My stare immediately snapped back to her, meeting her blue eyes already pinned on me.

There was a tense silence between us for a moment.

It was brief, but it felt longer than ever.

Especially as I stared at her with nothing but irritation.

"Whatever," I mumbled almost childishly, glancing away from her yet again.

"Liberty," I heard her say, my name smoothly falling from her lips.

I hummed blankly, fighting the shivers she sent down my spine as I avoided her stare.

"Look at me," she suddenly said, her voice still calm but the command unmistakable, "You've been avoiding eye contact. I'd like you to stop."

Her words made my lower stomach tighten.

I clenched my jaw, feeling the weight of her stare on my face—expecting nothing less than my compliance.

"You compared me to her," I said, still refusing to meet her stare against the clear demand she made, "I'm not her."

"You're not her, Liberty," Dr. Leclair didn't hesitate to say, her calm tone contrasting mine, "It was implied as an observation—not a comparison."

I shook my head, feeling much more irritated than I'd like to admit.

"We both flirt with you, cool," I mumbled, glancing down at my lap, "I'm sure you answer both of our calls in the middle of the night too."

I wanted to irritate her—I wanted to see her irritated for once.

I just couldn't glance up from my lap.

I couldn't meet her stare right now.

But I could hear the subtle breath she drew in, tight and restrained.

It made the tightness in my lower stomach grow, anticipating what she would say next.

"You are my patient—she is my receptionist. You are different, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, her words lowered and calm, "You are prioritized differently."

I hummed tightly even if her words managed to make me feel...

Special?

But of course, all of her patients are prioritized differently.

That's all she means.

I decided to remain silent, refusing to contribute anything else to this topic.

I don't have to speak.

"You're displacing your emotions, Liberty," I heard Dr. Leclair say, feeling her stare burning into my face as I now looked at the view of the city to the side of her, "When something else is weighing on you, even the little things can start to feel overwhelming."

I remained silent, still refusing to speak to her or give into this new topic.

Even if she made a good point.

I don't know why this Sienna thing bothered me to this degree today.

She'll never be me.

"You want something else to focus your energy on. Sometimes you need it," Dr. Leclair spoke again despite my silence.

I didn't say anything, calmly staring at the city view past her, even if it felt really fucking hard.

Especially with her stare pinpointed precisely on me.

"How did everything go with Kaia?" Dr. Leclair suddenly asked me.

My stare shifted to meet hers before I could process it, giving in to everything she probably wanted from me.

Fuck.

"I told her..." I trailed off, shaking my head at the fact that I was speaking when I told myself I wouldn't, "I texted her, telling her I'm taking some space away."

Dr. Leclair nodded once, "Good, Liberty. That's really good for you," she didn't hesitate to say, praising my actions, "How did it make you feel?"

"Good," I said, forcing a smile.

It was small, my lips trembling to uphold it.

Dr. Leclair's overall presence made it hard.

Her stare made it hard.

I glanced down at my lap before I could process it, letting out a deep sigh as I tried to find some fucking composure.

It felt impossible.

"Hard," I forced out, squeezing my hands together in my lap to help distract me from crying, "She kept calling and texting me and I really wanted to answer," I admitted in a soft whisper.

Ugh, this is so annoying.

"I'm sorry, Liberty," I heard Dr. Leclair say, her voice softened between us, "It's good that you didn't give in. You stood up for yourself."

I nodded a few times, drawing in a deep breath to help push the heavy feelings away.

"She said you're pushing me to do stuff I wouldn't initiate," I whispered, glancing up from my lap to finally meet her eyes.

The urge to cry grew stronger, but I refused to focus on it.

I refused to let it happen.

"You have free will, Liberty. What we discuss here doesn't have to be initiated outside of this office," Dr. Leclair said, her eyes trailing my face, "You choose to do that yourself, and you should be proud that you did it."

I nodded a few times, unable to string any words together.

"She needs someone to blame," Dr. Leclair spoke again when I remained quiet, "And I'm okay with being the person at fault here. I'll be the villain in her story if it means you're sticking up for yourself, Liberty."

Her words hit me so deeply, annoying tears blurring my vision as I let out a deep sigh.

She would be the villain for me...

She would willingly be blamed for everything bad, just to see me stand up for myself.

It was a support I had never experienced.

"Thank you," I forced out, quickly wiping under my eyes.

"You're doing the hard work here, Liberty," Dr. Leclair reminded me as I reached for the tissues on the side table.

I nodded at her words, gently dabbing the tissue under my eyes as I let out another deep breath.

I needed to get my shit together.

Kaia is the one who fucked me over that night.

It's her fault.

"How was your weekend, doc?" I decided to ask, leveling my tone as I adjusted my posture.

"Good," Dr. Leclair said, her stare holding mine, "I appreciate you asking, Liberty."

I hummed as I set the tissue in my lap, feeling much better now that I had let everything out.

I felt lighter.

"No late phone calls from Sienna on Friday?" I purposely decided to ask, switching the topic back to where it belonged.

Dr. Leclair had deflected so well that I'm just now realizing the topic change she pulled.

"The only late phone call I received was from you, Liberty," she said, calmly clasping her hands together in her lap, "How do you feel about trying again? No alcohol until next Monday."

I nodded immediately at her suggestion, wanting to try again.

"Do I still get a reward?" I decided to ask her, raising a sharp brow.

Dr. Leclair rolled her soft lips into a pursed line, "You do," she said, her blue eyes locked with mine.

"Does Sienna get rewards for doing her work too?" I decided to ask, changing the topic back yet again.

She's like a fucking expert at deflecting, but I'm getting better.

"Liberty," Dr. Leclair calmly said, her eyes trailing my face, "We're not going proceed like this. I'm your therapist—"

"I never said you weren't," I cut her short without a second thought.

I glanced down, noticing her hands subtly clasp tighter together in her lap.

"It's a reminder, Liberty. I'm your therapist," Dr. Leclair corrected me, her voice still calm with me, "We don't interrupt each other when we're speaking, and you don't question me about romantic suspicions whether they're untrue or not."

I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling my face burn up from her words.

It felt like she was speaking to me as if I were a child.

I'm not a fucking child.

"Right, so you don't get to question me about romantic suspicions either?" I purposely asked, even if she hadn't asked me once about someone else being in the picture.

I didn't have fair leverage but I also wondered why she never asked.

I mean, yes I flirt with her but I just fucked someone a little over a week ago.

"Not unless you want to share anything with me, Liberty," Dr. Leclair calmly responded, her blue eyes not once wavering from mine.

"Oh I have plenty to share with you," I decided to say with my usual smile, "Just a week ago I fucked this one woman—her name is Octavia," I explained, my smile widening at the cuss word I purposely used.

Dr. Leclair nodded stiffly, probably at my foul language.

"Continue," was all she said, wanting more details to go off of.

I let out a dramatic sigh, "Well, I'm not sure if I should text her... it's been days and I don't know if it's too late doc," I said, pursing my glossed lips in thought.

As if I was genuinely unsure about what to do, but in reality, I wanted to see how Dr. Leclair might react.

Her expression was neutral as usual, her hands clasped in her lap and her leg still crossed over the other.

"It's not necessarily too late," she said, rolling her shoulders back, "As long as you're able to take accountability for how long it took you to text her."

I hummed, analyzing her face, "So I should text her?" I asked, wanting to hear her say the words specifically.

It almost felt like she was beating around the bush here.

"That's a decision you have to make for yourself, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, furthering my irritation, "Do you want to text her?"

I felt my face grow warm under her stare, noticing how her blue eyes burned into mine.

It made me shift on the couch slightly, trying not to glance away first.

"Sure," I said, wondering what it would take to get somewhat of a fucking reaction out of her, "What about Dr. Kincaid?"

The words fell from my lips before I could think it through, recalling how Dr. Leclair seemed to cut into every conversation I had with her.

"What about her, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me, her composure still as calm as ever.

I fought the urge to clench my jaw at her calmness, smiling instead at her.

"Is she single?" I asked her, my voice softer between us, "I mean, she's technically not my therapist so..."

"She works in the same office as your therapist," Dr. Leclair said, her eyes still locked with mine.

"So?" I asked.

"So, I'm telling you no, Liberty," Dr. Leclair didn't hesitate to say.

I raised a brow at the quickness of her statement.

Her tone was calm, but I don't know... it felt like I hit some sort of nerve.

Or maybe I'm hoping I did.

"Do you think she'll tell me yes?" I innocently asked, my smile growing slightly.

"She'll lose her place at the practice, so I assume she wouldn't, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, quickly shutting my question down.

I smiled wider at her, wondering if I was hallucinating this tension growing around us.

It was her stare that suddenly felt so much more targeted.

How her shoulders looked stiff.

"Oh come on—I'm sure the boss would understand," I murmured, trying to push her for more of a reaction.

"I wouldn't understand," Dr. Leclair twisted my words back to me, making me realize—

She's the boss.

Or Dr. Kincaid's boss.

Everyone's boss actually?

This practice is hers.

Huh... I never expected that one.

"Have I made myself clear, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me, snapping me from my thoughts.

My irritation grew at her words, hating that she still found the upper hand in all of this.

I'll find a way to get it back.

"You have made yourself clear," I decided to say, knowing I might just try to flirt a little with Dr. Kincaid.

I'm sure she knows the risks herself, so flirting back is her decision.

Dr. Leclair hummed, "How are your other friends? Zion and Sarai," she said, easily changing the subject.

Even if the tension was still painfully clear in the air.

I could tell by how she let me talk more, purposely remaining more quiet.

It weirdly satisfied me, realizing this was the card I needed to play.

Maybe then she would play the game in general.

"Let's do Friday for our next session," Dr. Leclair said as our current session came to an end, making me raise a brow.

Mostly because Friday is really far away.

Maybe I did irritate her?

"Why not Wednesday or Thursday?" I decided to ask, but not because I cared.

Waiting until Friday is more than fine with me.

I just wonder if this is because I genuinely struck a nerve with her and the Dr. Kincaid situation.

Or even the Octavia one—considering she didn't directly tell me to text her.

Maybe I'm just being delusional.

Fuck, she's already messing with my head.

"A session right before the weekend will be beneficial. We can discuss your plans, especially with avoiding alcohol," Dr. Leclair explained, her focus shifting down to her phone, "Does five work again for you, Liberty?"

I hummed, "Sure," I murmured, standing from the couch as she briefly typed on her phone.

Then she uncrossed her leg from over the other, standing to her tall height as I walked past her.

"Good job today," she said, following behind me toward the door.

I reached for the handle, but she was faster—leaning past me to grab the handle and open the door for us.

I was stuck frozen for a moment, briefly registering how close she was to me.

Or her familiar scent that wrapped around me.

I had to physically force myself to step forward, inhaling a sharp breath as I took another step.

"Thanks," I mumbled to the best of my abilities, trying to keep my tone leveled.

"I'm very proud of you, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said as she walked close behind me down the hallway, "Every session you make more progress."

Her words sent a heat striking down my body, wordlessly nodding a few times.

I'm so glad she can't see my fucking face right now—especially with the sudden smile that grew on my lips as we entered the front lobby.

Where Dr. Kincaid stood, briefly talking to Reagan.

She must specifically be her receptionist while Sienna is Dr. Leclair's.

I wish they would switch.

"Dr. Kincaid," I suddenly said, my smile growing as I approached her.

She wore slate grey dress pants with a black blouse, wearing her dark hair in a sleek high bun.

I watched Dr. Kincaid glance away from Reagan, her dark eyes meeting mine.

"Liberty," she greeted me with her typical smile, briefly glancing past me where I knew Dr. Leclair stood, "How was your session?" she asked, her stare shifting back to me.

"You can call me Libby, you know," I purposely said, my voice lowered between us as she nodded in acknowledgment, "And it was good, how has your day been?" I asked curiously, ignoring a certain presence behind me.

But it was so fucking hard.

"Really good," Dr. Kincaid said, her voice warm with me.

My lips parted—

But nothing came out.

Not with the firm hand placed delicately on my shoulder.

Dr. Leclair.

"We have a meeting, Liberty," I heard her say from behind me, her voice as smooth as usual, "We can catch up on Friday."

I internally rolled my eyes, realizing she said we as if she were included in our catching up.

At the same time, I felt almost satisfied, feeling the weight of her hand on my shoulder.

Sienna seemed to be looking at us both while Reagan was focused back on her computer screen.

Maybe Reagan should teach Sienna how to really work since she seems behind.

"Yes, we should probably get started on that meeting," Dr. Kincaid suddenly said to Dr. Leclair, glancing back to me, "We'll catch up next time you're in, Libby."

I nodded, a happy smile growing on my lips at the specified nickname she used for me.

"Sounds perfect," I said, turning around to Dr. Leclair as she removed her hand from my shoulder, "I'll see you Friday," I said, tilting my chin back as I met her blue eyes.

Dr. Leclair nodded once, "Friday," was all she said, stepping to the side to let me walk past her.

My smile managed to spread into a grin as I brushed past her, subtly grazing my arm against hers as I walked toward the elevator.

Today was definitely a win in my book.

I think I finally managed to draw something out of Dr. Leclair—and I think Sienna might've picked up on it.

Good, she needs to learn her place.

Because I already know mine.

Friday is going to be so much fucking fun.

Up until the nighttime... then I'll be bored again.