Page 16

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I was frozen for a moment.

Or maybe time felt frozen as I watched her.

Dr. Leclair calmly walked over to the two professors standing by one of the tall tables, sipping on their drinks.

One recognized Dr. Leclair immediately.

She had blonde hair, slicked back into a low ponytail—wearing a silky emerald blouse and a pencil skirt.

Her green eyes were on my therapist as soon as she approached, smiling at her as she murmured something I couldn't quite make out.

I watched as the blonde leaned in for a brief side hug, making my eyes narrow at them both.

My jaw felt tight, analyzing the brief hug.

Dr. Leclair's hands rested against her arm, while the blonde woman wrapped one arm around her upper waist in return—laughing as the other professor reached his hand out to Dr. Leclair and briefly shook her hand.

They all seemed to know each other well—

"Libs?"

My focus shifted to Zion and Sarai—who both had furrowed brows, probably wondering what I was looking at.

Or who.

I feel like it was obvious.

"Do you guys know those professors?" I decided to ask them, immediately causing Zion and Sarai to turn around.

It made my heart shoot up in my chest, quickly glancing away as they openly stared at the professor's standing with Dr. Leclair.

"Oh, that's Professor Bensen," Sarai said, still staring over at them, "I had her for psychology back when I had prerequisites."

I nodded once, wondering if Professor Bensen was just a friend.

She better be.

"I think that's Professor Kumar," Zion said, referring to the other professor who's a guy, "I don't know who that woman is though."

I lazily raised my brows, "My therapist," I mumbled blankly.

Zion and Sarai's attention snapped back to me, nearly catching whiplash in the process.

"Your therapist?" Sarai curiously asked me, "You should introduce us—I have to hear this voice you're talking about."

I immediately shook my head at the idea, "No, she's clearly here for something—I don't want to interrupt," I quickly lied.

The truth is, I'm not sure if it would be awkward seeing her here.

Or what she would think.

How she would react?

"That's a lie," Zion smiled, shaking his head at me.

I rolled my eyes, "Is not," I mumbled, even if he annoyingly knew me well.

"Says the one who interrupted my Zoom to tell my professor about the new bar opening," Zion deadpanned, making my lips twitch up slightly.

"Okay but that's you," I said, my stare shifting back to Dr. Leclair, "And this is her."

"Then we won't interrupt," Sarai assured me as Zion only grew more amused by my previous words, "Whenever you want to introduce us, it's up to you."

I nodded, "See, Zi, that's what you should've said," I mumbled in a smart-ass tone.

"I was just pointing out that you never mind interrupting anyone else," Zion said, raising his hands in defense, "But it's all up to you, Libs."

Sarai nodded, "Yeah, like she's your therapist so I think you should introduce us whenever you're comfortable," she told me, making a small smile grow on my lips.

"I appreciate that," I said, reaching over to place a hand on her arm, "And you too, Zi," I added, my smile growing more amused.

"Of course, Libs," he said as Sarai nodded and reached up to briefly pat my hand with a smile.

I unconsciously glanced past them, feeling someone's stare burning into me.

It was her.

And it caught me entirely off guard.

Dr. Leclair's eyes held my stare for a moment.

Until her focus shifted over, to my hand on Sarai's arm.

I unconsciously lowered my hand before I could think it through—but Dr. Leclair had already looked away, focusing back on her conversation with the two professors.

I pursed my lips, genuinely wondering why she was here.

Or why she didn't come speak to me.

She clearly knows I'm here.

Maybe it's because I'm a patient?

I mean, we are out of the office so maybe it's weird.

I think?

I glanced back over to her, zoning out the conversation with Sarai and Zion when I noticed Dr. Leclair back away from the professors.

My heart pounded in my chest, wondering if she was about to walk over to me.

But she didn't.

If anything she walked in the opposite direction, passing various groups of students and professors who smiled at her in recognition.

My eyes followed her figure all the way to the long hallway.

I set my drink down before I could think it through, the glass clinking loudly and snapping me out of my thoughts.

"I'll be right back," I told Zion and Sarai who glanced over to me, nodding and saying something that I didn't quite grasp.

My focus felt shifted—focused on her and that hallway.

I don't even know when I started walking, where it all began and ended.

My brain was only focused on one thing, one person, as I brushed through the crowd that was lightly conversing over the soft jazz music.

I drew in a deep breath as I made it to the long hallway, hesitantly walking down it.

The clicking of my heels echoed around me, the soft jazz music and chatter growing farther away as I continued walking.

There were two tall doors at the end.

Bathrooms.

I immediately pushed the door to the women's bathroom open, walking past the threshold.

My eyes landed on her immediately, standing by the long sink as she focused on touching up her lipstick.

The dim lights reflected against her sharp face and emphasized her best features.

All I could do was stare for a moment, unsure what I should say now.

I just followed her to the bathroom.

That sounds really fucking weird of me?

Why did I just—

"You're following me now, Liberty?" Dr. Leclair suddenly addressed me, her blue eyes meeting mine through the mirror.

"I had to use the bathroom doc," I quickly lied with a forced smile, my face burning as I took a few more steps forward.

"So use the bathroom," Dr. Leclair said, her blue eyes still holding mine through the mirror.

Her words made me clench my jaw, fighting the heat that burned in my lower stomach.

"Why are you here?" I curiously asked her, still holding her stare.

"I work closely with the school," Dr. Leclair said as if it were the most normal thing, now turning around to face me.

I hummed, my eyes trailing her face for a moment as I contemplated my next words.

But I couldn't fight the urge.

"You and Professor Bensen must be good friends then," I said, walking closer to her, "I mean, she teaches psychology so."

Dr. Leclair remained silent, her eyes locked with mine as I stopped directly in front of her.

I could hear my heart pounding in my ears, trying not to focus on the small amount of space between us.

Or how I could smell her—she smells so fucking good.

"Yes, Liberty," Dr. Leclair suddenly said, staring down at me, "We're good friends."

I lazily raised my brows, "I could tell by the hug," I decided to say, my eyes carefully trailing her face for any sort of reaction.

There was nothing.

As usual, she was composed.

"We've been over this," Dr. Leclair determined, raising a brow, "We don't question romantic suspicions, Liberty. I'm your therapist—"

"Mind telling me what you told, Dr. Kincaid?" I purposely cut her short, taking another step closer to her.

I clenched my jaw when our bodies barely brushed.

Dr. Leclair didn't take a step back.

She didn't give in first.

And I wouldn't be either.

I glanced down to her lips, watching as she pursed them tightly together.

"Interruptions," Dr. Leclair stated bluntly as she stared down at me, "We discussed those too, Liberty," she said, her tone holding a level of disapproval.

"I know you spoke to her," I said, not letting her change the topic away from Dr. Kincaid, "I know you told her not to use the nickname I specifically mentioned she could use."

Dr. Leclair hummed, entirely unaffected, "Seeing as this is my practice, Liberty, and professionalism is expected, yes, there was a conversation."

I rolled my eyes, "Is that all it was? Professionalism?" I asked her, my eyes not wavering from hers, "That's bullshit and you know it."

Dr. Leclair's eyes snapped away from mine for once, drawing in a calm breath as she clasped her hands tightly together.

A flicker of something had passed through her expression, and for once, it felt like I had irritated her.

I pushed her as far as she had pushed me.

Finally.

I resisted the urge to smile.

Just barely.

"I'm going to say this once, Liberty," Dr. Leclair suddenly said, her blue eyes meeting mine again, "One time and that's it. So listen carefully."

I barely had the chance to speak before her hand grabbed my chin.

Her touch was firm, yet her hand... her fingertips were soft against my skin.

With the slightest pressure, she tilted my head back—commanding my full attention.

The action alone made me feel like some child who just got in trouble.

"You do not question the decisions I make for my practice," she said, lowering her hand from my chin.

I stayed in place for her anyway.

It was unconscious, but I knew not to move.

"You will not explore romantic relations with Dr. Kincaid because it is unethical," she emphasized her tone firm and leaving no room for negotiation.

I remained silent, trying to focus on seeming unaffected as I stared up at her.

But I was struggling to keep it the fuck together.

Her authority... scared me?

It terrified me actually.

But it also struck me with a desire that pulled me closer to her.

"Interrupt me again," Dr. Leclair said, her blue eyes burning into mine, "Cuss at me again," she continued, her words tighter than I had ever heard them, "And there will be consequences, Liberty."

I clenched my jaw, surprisingly short of any words for once.

I had nothing.

There was nothing I could say to argue further with her.

And I'm not even sure I should.

Not with how she's looking at me right now.

"Okay," I forced out, my tone reluctant as my ego nearly screamed at me for letting her have this.

"Okay what, Liberty?" she asked me, her tone lowered with precision and her stare not wavering from mine.

I drew in a tight breath, "Okay, Dr. Leclair," I mumbled, breaking eye contact as I glanced away from her.

I felt almost embarrassed, a sting rippling through my chest.

"Good," she said as my eyes trailed her shirt to occupy my focus, "Now enjoy your weekend, Liberty. I'll see you Monday."

I reached up before I could think it through—before she could dismiss this conversation and walk past me.

My hand landed softly on her collarbone, smoothing out her shirt for her.

It was a small correction—an excuse to touch her.

My breathing grew shallow, tracing her covered skin as I pretended to continue fixing the fabric that was already smoothed out.

It was tense between us, making knots tighten in my stomach.

I couldn't glance up—I couldn't meet her stare.

But I did anyway, resting my hand against her covered collarbone as I met her blue eyes already pinned on me.

The air grew thicker, her calm expression contrasting every thought weighing down my head.

I felt warmer.

My body nearly lit up as I decided to take this opportunity.

To make the first move.

I leaned in first, my eyes glancing down to her lips with one agenda.

Then I felt it.

The softness of her hand around my wrist.

I stalled.

We both did.

I couldn't meet her stare again if I tried, too focused on her lips as her grip tightened around my wrist.

And lowered my hand to rest at my side where it didn't belong.

The warmth, the buzz burning down my body, my hands were meant to touch her.

But she leaned away, letting go of my wrist entirely.

I let out a deep breath, finding the will to actually breathe again with this sudden space between us.

I could also think properly, realizing what I just did.

Or attempted.

She rejected me.

I mean, what did I expect?

She's my therapist—she's said that so many times.

But... I can't be the only that feels the pull between us.

I'm not delusional.

Right?

She... she's just trying to maintain ethics.

But no one's around—

"No one would know," I said, my voice lowered and heavy in my ears.

"Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, her eyes trailing my face for a painstakingly long moment.

Before she shook her head.

"No," was the next word that fell from her lips, rubbing the rejection in even deeper and sending me into a spiral.

I backed away from her before I could process it, feeling the weird urge to cry at the stupid word.

No.

I hated that word, especially when it came from her.

"Liberty," I heard her sigh when I turned away, quickly trying to exit the bathroom before I could show my emotions, "We have to discuss this."

"We're not in your office," I mumbled, drawing in a deep breath to steady myself as I reached for the door, "I don't have to discuss anything with you."

I exited the bathroom before she could say anything else, rushing back down the hallway that I felt stupid for coming down in the first place.

Her rejection stung.

Deeper than I would like to admit.

I couldn't even pretend it didn't, and that fucking sucks.

"Hey guys," I said as I approached Zion and Sarai, causing their attention to shift to me, "I think I'm going to call it a night—I'm kind of ready to go home and chill you know."

It was a lie.

I didn't want to go home and be alone.

The urge to go out or even call Kaia was strong.

The urge to drink was even stronger.

But I don't need to drink to feel better—I can do something else.

I want to punch something.

I think I'll go to the gym in my apartment building.

"Of course, did you want to come over for breakfast tomorrow?" Sarai asked me.

"Sure," I said with a forced smile, grabbing my purse as I walked around the table and briefly hugged them, "See you tomorrow."

"Text me when you get home," Zion said as I pulled away from them both.

I nodded, "Of course," I quickly said, especially when I noticed her presence emerge from that hallway.

Dr. Leclair's stare was already pinpointed on me.

I turned around before I could process it, avoiding her entire presence as I rushed out of the event.

The soft chatter and jazz music were gone, the silence of the night creeping in around me as I walked to my car.

My heels clicked sharply under me, the sound rushed and a complete contrast to the calmness around me.

I slid into the driver's seat as soon as I unlocked my car, pressing the start button to turn the engine on and shift the gear into drive.

Then I drove back to my apartment, choosing to sit in silence rather than turn on any music.

That's when my phone began softly buzzing in my lap, the call displaying on my bright car screen.

The caller ID was bolded and captured my attention immediately.

I hesitated—everything inside of me hesitated.

She's calling me.

She wants to talk to me.

I quickly shook my head at the thoughts, knowing she probably wanted to discuss everything.

Maybe even smooth it all over.

I don't want to smooth anything over with her.

I want it to be rough between us.

I stared forward, ignoring the call until it rang through and I was left in a deafening silence.

One that followed me back to my apartment where I quickly stripped out of my black dress and pulled on workout clothes.

I focused all my energy on the gym, throwing myself into my workout.

I didn't want to think about Dr. Leclair.

Or the urge to suddenly call Kaia and just cry about all of this.

She always knows how to make me feel better.

I genuinely thought about it.

I thought about her.

It was a contemplation that I had to physically and mentally push through, trying my best to focus on each exercise.

I couldn't call Kaia.

And I definitely couldn't call Dr. Leclair back.

I'm all alone tonight, and I don't know how to be okay with that.