Page 21

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"What happened, Ki?" I softly asked her as I grabbed a glass to make her a water.

Yes, I had my Voss water but I didn't want to share.

I wanted to keep what Dr. Leclair had given me.

"My dad's getting married," she whispered brokenly, leaning against the counter with a weak sigh, "She's in her thirties and has a daughter."

I frowned, knowing her dad never made the effort to marry anyone after her mom left.

This must be hard.

"He's already treating her daughter like his—like she's so much better than me," Kaia said, tears burning in her eyes as I gently handed the cup of water to her.

"I'm sorry, Ki," I whispered softly, watching as she took a sip of the water I made her, "You deserve so much better."

Kaia only nodded, tears growing in her eyes as she took another long sip of water.

"Why doesn't he love me?" Kaia suddenly whispered, making my face soften.

Her words were genuine—full of nothing but hurt by her dad's actions.

I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a hug as she began crying again.

"I'm so sorry, Ki," I repeated again, gently guiding the glass from her hands and setting it on the counter, "How about you stay the night here? We could watch all your favorite movies?"

Kaia nodded immediately, "Please," she whispered, causing me to immediately pull away and guide her to my room.

My legs still felt very fucking sore, but the last thing I wanted to do was show it.

I focused on helping Kaia get seated on the bed, walking over to the bathroom, and grabbing the makeup remover wipes she left here for herself.

"You take your makeup off and I'll grab you some clothes," I said, handing her the wipes as she nodded a few times.

Then I carefully walked off to my closet, trying to ignore the pain in my inner hips as I grabbed a t-shirt and shorts.

"When did you get this?" Kaia asked as I exited my closet, trailing her fingers over the furry grey blanket.

Dr. Leclair's blanket.

Or mine.

She gave it to me.

I quickly reached for the blanket on my bed, snatching it away before I could think it through.

I just... didn't like the idea of Kaia touching it.

"I found it uh packed away," I quickly said, noticing how confused Kaia looked by my actions.

I didn't mean to pull it away from her like that.

"Oh okay," she whispered, her brows still furrowed as she watched me put the blanket in my closet.

"Here's your clothes," I said, walking over and handing her the clothes folded over my arm.

Kaia smiled in response, "Thanks, Libby," she said as she stood from the bed—

And tugged her skirt down.

I turned away from her before I could realize it, my eyes widening at her sudden actions.

Or should I say normal actions?

She always does this—I normally change in front of her too.

But right now it felt different.

It felt like I shouldn't watch her strip out of her clothes.

I'm not sure why—it was only a one-time thing with Dr. Leclair.

"Libby," Kaia laughed at my current actions, "Why are you being weird?"

I shook my head, "I'm not," I quickly said, walking toward the bathroom, "I should just, you know, brush my teeth."

Kaia didn't say anything in response as I trailed into my bathroom, reaching for my toothbrush.

As I grabbed the toothpaste, I could suddenly hear Kaia's footsteps grow closer—entering the bathroom with me.

"You're totally being weird," Kaia observed me through the mirror, watching as I brought the toothbrush to my lips.

I shook my head at her words, brushing my teeth as I remained silent.

Kaia raised a brow, her dark eyes analyzing me for a moment.

Until her stare shifted down to my outfit.

The one I still wore from earlier.

"Wait so where were you earlier?" she suddenly asked, recalling that I never answered her question.

And I knew I had to think fast.

Really fucking fast.

"I stayed at the restaurant," I suddenly spoke through the sudsy toothpaste, "I wanted to finish my food and have dessert."

Kaia nodded hesitantly at my explanation, blinking a few times as she registered my words.

"Okay..." she trailed off, suddenly shaking her head to herself, "I thought you were seeing someone there for a moment."

I forced a chuckle, "Me? Seeing someone?" I said as if the idea of that was insane.

I mean, it is.

I don't do the serious thing honestly.

"Crazy right?" Kaia laughed, shaking her head to herself.

I nodded a few times with a forced smile, briefly spitting out my toothpaste and continuing to brush my teeth.

"Did you talk to your therapist after I left?" Kaia suddenly asked with a loose smile, "I know you guys probably talk so much shit about me."

I gave her a fake narrowed look, "We don't, Ki," I said, shutting her words down.

I feel like Dr. Leclair only gives me advice.

Talking shit about Kaia wouldn't be the right way to describe the overall conversation.

"She clearly doesn't like me though," Kaia said, leaning against the counter in front of me as I continued brushing my teeth, "It's so fucking obvious—she barely acknowledged me once."

I nodded a few times, "Yeah, she's just sort of like that," I lied, knowing Dr. Leclair definitely didn't like Kaia.

Or the fact that I was at dinner with her.

"Really?" Kaia asked as I spit out more of the sudsy toothpaste.

I nodded as I rinsed my toothbrush, "Yeah, she's very..." I trailed off in search of a word, grabbing my mouthwash, "Reserved," I suddenly said.

I guess she could be reserved sometimes, so it wasn't technically a lie.

She was just more reserved when it came to Kaia...

"Maybe it's me who doesn't like her then," Kaia determined, making me furrow my brows as I swished my mouthwash, "It feels like she took you from me for a second."

I jokingly rolled my eyes, spitting my mouthwash out, "No one took anyone—we just needed a break there for a moment," I quickly corrected her, "Remember you convinced me to go to the club and drink?"

Kaia immediately nodded, "Yeah," she said, nodding a few times to herself, "We needed that break," she suddenly determined.

"Exactly," I said in agreement, now grabbing my micellar water to start taking my makeup off with.

Kaia stood beside me at the sink, venting about the dinner with her dad as I started washing my face.

I listened to everything she had to say, letting her get it all out as I moved onto my skincare next.

She filled me in on everything—how it was meeting them, her dad yelling at her, and how shitty it made her feel.

After getting changed into my pajamas, I met her in bed, wrapping my arms around her to hold her close as she relaxed in my arms.

We stayed like that even as we fell into a deep sleep—for once going to sleep before ten.

I still tossed and turned a little throughout the night, unable to sleep with her roaming through my mind.

All I saw when I closed my eyes was her car, hearing my own echoey moans and cries.

Her voice was prominent above it all, the softness of it engrained in my head.

By the time the sun peaked over the horizon, I was beyond ready to get out of bed—for once, awake before Kaia's alarm went off.

She had classes today, unlike me.

"Ugh," Kaia sighed as she reached for her phone on the nightstand, snoozing her alarm.

I stared at the ceiling, remaining silent as Kaia sat up from the bed and stretched her arms out.

"Good morning sunshine," Kaia said, noticing my open eyes as she pulled the cover off her.

"Morning," I murmured, reaching for my phone on the nightstand while Kaia climbed out of my bed to get ready to leave.

I drew in a deep breath, noticing one notification among the numerous on my lock screen.

Doc.

Even seeing the notification in bold made my heart tick in my chest, quickly unlocking my phone to see what she sent me.

There were texts from Sarai and Zion at the very top of our group chat, mentioning something about lunch.

But I was too focused on Dr. Leclair's, immediately clicking her text to read.

I pursed my lips, trying desperately to fight my smile.

Especially with Kaia just a few feet from me.

She would definitely notice something is up.

I quickly typed against my phone screen, responding with a simple, okay.

Then I pulled back my covers, suddenly ready to start my day.

Dr. Leclair didn't say when to stop by her office, so why not go now?

It's only a little after eight—by the time I get there it'll at least be ten.

I mean, considering I still need to eat breakfast, get ready, and drive there.

I also want to look really fucking cute when I go.

I wonder what she wants to talk about?

Probably last night.

Or maybe the referral situation.

But I don't want a referral anymore—I want to stay now.

"I'll see you later, Libby," Kaia said, rushing to slip her heels back on.

She was now dressed in her outfit from last night, heading back to her place to get ready instead.

"Have fun at class," I singsonged, walking into my closet to pick out my outfit.

"You know I won't," Kaia said back in the same tone I used, "Love you."

I hummed, "Love you too," I said, sifting through my different clothes.

I opted for a more casual look, almost wanting to look like I didn't care.

I don't care like that much obviously.

But I want to make sure it seems like that.

I went for all black today—some cute leggings and a matching jacket that clung to my body and emphasized my curves.

I purposely kept it unzipped partially, exposing my cleavage.

I pulled my wavy hair up into a ponytail since my blowout wasn't that great now that it was the next morning.

My hair still looked cute in a ponytail, especially with my baby hairs gelled down and framing my face.

Lastly, I gelled down my brows, only applying my lip liner and gloss.

I didn't put on any other makeup, deciding to go for a more natural look instead.

Once I put on a cute dainty necklace and sprayed my perfume, I was ready to go.

My black Nike's were already by the front door, so I just slid those on as I grabbed my keys.

At least until I halted, realizing I never ate breakfast.

But suddenly, I didn't feel like making anything.

Dr. Leclair and this talk she wanted to have was the only thing on my mind.

I quickly grabbed a banana to bring with me, leaving my apartment as I walked toward the elevators.

The time was displayed brightly on my phone that I briefly glanced down at.

It honestly shocked me at how quickly I got ready, but then again, I didn't do my makeup and my hair was relatively simple.

So was the outfit, and I still feel so cute.

Traffic wasn't even bad either.

I honestly wished it was like this on the days that I did have therapy.

Even the lobby of the familiar skyscraper wasn't that busy, taking one of the elevators up to the forty-fifth floor.

The office was just as I left it when I rushed out yesterday.

But I wasn't embarrassed—if anything I felt iconic.

"Sienna," I greeted her first, approaching the front desk, "I'm here to see Dr. Leclair," I said, not wanting to make small talk with her whatsoever.

She immediately nodded with a smile, "Yes, she mentioned you would be stopping by—her current session should be done in..." she trailed off, glancing over to her computer for the time, "Two minutes," she told me.

I nodded, glancing down at my phone for the time.

Maybe this means she'll have thirty minutes of spare time.

Right?

From what I recall, she schedules thirty minutes between sessions.

"How is your morning so far?" Sienna politely asked me.

I forced a tight smile, "Really good," I said, subtly backing away from her to sit in the waiting area.

The last thing I wanted to do was stand by the front desk and talk to her.

Maybe Reagan, but it doesn't look like she's in yet.

I relaxed against the cushioned chair, staring forward at the wall almost awkwardly.

I'm so unaccustomed to waiting for her to come out.

I quickly reached for my phone, unlocking it to distract myself on Pinterest.

I scrolled through my explore page, focusing on the different aesthetic pins.

But as soon as I heard the sharp clicking of heels along with the pattering of shoes, I glanced up from my phone.

My breathing felt almost shallow, suddenly feeling more nervous as the clicking of her heels grew closer.

Everything from last night flashed in my head, feeling knots tie in my stomach at the idea of coming face-to-face with her again.

"I'll see you next week, Esmé," I heard her familiar voice say as she emerged from the hallway.

Her silky brown hair was down, her bangs emphasizing her features as she wore a black blouse and matching dress pants.

Her usual stilettos shined under the dim lighting, wearing a silver necklace, a matching ring band around her thumb, and another ring on her middle finger.

"Thank you, Dr. Leclair," the woman spoke with a kind smile, making my attention shift to her.

She had dark wavy hair and brown eyes, wearing a pink long-sleeve shirt with jeans and Converse.

I glanced back over to Dr. Leclair when she nodded in acknowledgment of Esmé's statement.

I pursed my lips into a smile when Esmé walked past me, flashing me a curt smile as she headed over to the elevators.

Then my attention was back on Dr. Leclair, meeting her blue eyes as she stood in front of me.

"Liberty," she calmly addressed me, motioning her head for me to follow her.

I immediately stood up from my chair, walking past her toward her office.

Her heels clicked sharply behind me, making my heart tick nervously in my chest.

Especially as we approached her office.

Then more tight knots settled in my lower stomach, anticipating what our conversation would consist of.

It could either go one of two ways, especially after last night.

I drew in a deep breath as I entered her familiar office, inhaling the deep jasmine scent.

Everything was so different compared to yesterday.

It's like a flip had switched.

Yesterday I was beyond fucking frustrated, and today... I'm happier?

Yeah, I'm pretty happy honestly.

And nervous.

I wasn't sure if I should sit down or not, so I remained standing as she calmly closed the door and walked over to me.

"We need to discuss this referral situation," Dr. Leclair spoke, stopping in front of me.

Her words made defeat shoot through, expecting her to say something else.

I'm just not sure what that something else was.

Maybe mentioning a re-do of last night?

No... no I said it was a one-time thing.

If anything it's better like that so I can keep her as my therapist.

"I don't need a referral anymore," I determined, staring up into her blue eyes, "I can just continue as your patient."

Dr. Leclair didn't react, which gave me a little hope.

Like I could still keep her as my therapist.

Her eyes only trailed my face, her expression as neutral as usual.

But then she firmly shook her head.

"No."

The word was blunt and commanding, leaving no room for me to argue.

But I'll always find a way to get what I want.

And I really fucking want this.

I need this actually.

I need her to be my therapist—it feels like she understands me, no other therapist will be like her.

"Why not? I won't say anything, and I'm really good at pretending it never happened," I pointed out, knowing this didn't have to be a big deal.

"Why not is a very interesting question, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, her stare completely set on me, "Especially after I specified why last night."

I nodded a few times, but before I could speak again, she continued.

"You're a good listener, Liberty," Dr. Leclair calmly spoke as I nodded again at her words, feeling my face unconsciously burn up, "Let's see if you can comprehend what you're listening to."

I narrowed my eyes at her words, "I do comprehend, clearly. I just don't care about the obsessive... whatever," I briefly explained, my tone entirely nonchalant.

"Obsessive tendencies," she corrected me, her voice calm—too calm, " I don't just obsess, Liberty. I consume. I dissect every word, every action, until there's nothing left unknown to me."

Her gaze didn't waver from mine and for the first time...

I felt something crawl up my spine.

It was a shiver, one that rang through my body.

"I don't let go," she continued when I remained silent, "If I allow myself to want something, truly want it—" she leaned in slightly, just enough to make me hold my breath, "It will never get away from me."

I parted my lips.

But nothing came out.

Absolutely nothing.

Especially as I stared up at her, blinking a few times as I processed her truthful words.

"So no, I'm not going to keep you as a patient, Liberty," Dr. Leclair spoke again, taking a firm step back from me, "There needs to be a significant amount of distance between us moving forward."

I glanced away from her, unable to fully hold her precise stare, "But I don't want to go to someone else—I don't want to start over," I said, avoiding eye contact with her.

I need her in my life—I'd rather stop therapy than continue with anyone else.

And that's not exactly an option right now.

"You have no choice in this, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, not even remotely considering my way of things, "Not after what I did to you in my car."

I shook my head, feeling tingles shoot through my body at her words.

At the flashes of what exactly happened last night.

"Please," I decided to say, using the last card I had to play.

Begging.

It seemed to work with her... I think?

"Liberty," she said, her voice holding a clear tightness when I lowered to my knees.

I disregarded the clear irritation my actions caused within her, sitting on my knees in front of her to full-on beg for her to keep me.

I would do anything if it meant getting my way with this, even putting my fucking ego aside.

"Please keep me as a patient," I whispered, tilting my head further back as I stared up at her.

The view was surreal.

Being on my knees in front of her was even more fucking surreal.

"This is exactly why you can't continue as my patient, Liberty," Dr. Leclair said, shaking her head as she stared down at me, "This isn't healthy. You shouldn't be on your knees, begging for me."

"But I am," I quickly shot back, not moving an inch from my current position, "I'm willing to beg you to be my therapist, Dr. Leclair."

She drew in a slow breath, her chest rising as she glanced away from me, "My god, Liberty," was all I could hear her say, the words lowered with clear restraint.

It made my heart shoot up in my chest, mostly at our current position and her words.

But it also felt like she might cave.

Like I would get my way and continue as her patient.

At least until she stiffly shook her head, rolling her shoulders back as she glanced back down to me.

"Stand up, Liberty," she instructed, her lowered voice firm with me, "We're discussing your referral."

I unconsciously scoffed, feeling my face burn up at her rejection, "Fucking fine," I mumbled childishly, purposely saying a cuss word, "I'll go to Dr. Kincaid then."

Dr. Leclair raised a brow, remaining silent at my words as she continued staring down at me.

But it was the way she looked at me—it made my stomach twist, realizing I struck something within her.

Good.

Really fucking good.

I think?

I drew in a deep breath when she lowered down, meeting me at my height on my knees.

Her stare was precise... not once glancing away from me.

I inaudibly gasped when she firmly grabbed my chin, tilting my head back to open me up further to her darkened stare.

It was silent for a moment, the tension burning around us as I stared into her blue eyes.

"You think you can manipulate me, Liberty?"

Her words were lowered, her tone almost dangerously calm.

I shrugged as she let go of my chin, "You can't stop me from requesting her specifically," I pointed out, trying to sound strong but my voice was in a fucking whisper, "Unless you have a real reason?"

I glanced away from her eyes, noticing the subtle outline of her jaw tighten.

She's irritated.

She's really irritated.

"I'll call her doc too," I purposely added as I held her stare, wanting to irritate her more.

Whatever it took, I would do it.

"This is what you want Liberty?" Dr. Leclair asked me, disregarding my last statement as she held my stare, "You want to sit on that couch and pretend like I wasn't inside you? Like I didn't make you cry?"

I blinked a few times, feeling my face burn up from her words—even how she looked at me.

It was so degrading.

"I just want you to be my therapist," I admitted honestly, my brows furrowing in frustration at her constant rejection.

Dr. Leclair hummed, the sound soft in her throat as her blue eyes trailed my face for a moment.

A tense silence grew between us.

But she didn't move—I definitely didn't either.

I knew better.

Especially if I wanted my way.

I just watched her, noticing she was calculating her next moves—what she would say to me next.

It made me unconsciously hold my breath, anticipating her final decision.

All I knew was that I would be miserable without her.

"No flirting," Dr. Leclair suddenly spoke again, and I didn't hesitate to nod rapidly, "Wear clothes that cover you," she added, now glancing down to the jacket I purposely left unzipped at my cleavage.

I drew in a deep breath when she reached for the zipper—firmly tugging it up and closing the jacket completely.

"We pretend last night didn't happen," she added, letting go of my zipper and rising to her tall height.

I nodded quickly, stumbling up to my feet and standing with her, "Of course doc," I said with a smile growing on my lips.

"And you don't question romantic instances. Not even with my receptionist, Liberty," Dr. Leclair added another rule to this, her stare not wavering from mine once.

"Okay," I said almost reluctantly, tilting my head, "I assume the same goes for you," I purposely added.

"It does," Dr. Leclair calmly said, making me narrow my eyes slightly.

It was weird, but I wanted her to disagree.

"So if I go out with someone, I can tell you about it?" I purposely asked her, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Yes, Liberty," she didn't hesitate to say, making something very small deflate inside of me.

But I should be happy she even agreed to continue as my therapist.

Even if I like the idea of her caring—of her feeling jealous at the idea of someone else being with me.

"Good," I murmured, blinking a few times as I contemplated my next words, "Because I'm actually going out with someone tonight," I suddenly added, my eyes carefully trailing her face for any sort of reaction.

There was nothing.

Just her usual neutral expression.

"Enjoy then," Dr. Leclair said, clasping her hands together in front of her, "I'll see you on Thursday. Does five work again?"

I nodded reluctantly, hating that I didn't get any sort of reaction from her.

Suddenly, I didn't know what I wanted anymore.

Or I did.

I just knew she wouldn't go for a different dynamic between us.

All she would ever go for is being my therapist, but what if I wanted both?

A one-time thing.

I said it was a one-time thing—none of this even matters.

No-no, but it does.

I knew if I saw her with someone else, it would matter.

So why doesn't it for her?

Maybe it's because she hasn't technically seen me with anyone else.

All she's seen is me flirting with Dr. Kincaid, something she handled immediately.

So maybe... she needs to see me with someone else for a change.

A smile grew on my lips at the sudden idea, "Thursday at five, doc," I suddenly said, walking past her toward the door.

"I'll see you then, Liberty," I heard her smoothly reply, earning a few nods from me.

Even if I knew that wasn't the case.

I suddenly reached for my phone, walking down the hallway as I searched for a specific contact.

Octavia.

Once her contact was up, I quickly typed on my phone and drafted up a simple text.

I smiled wider as I sent the text, watching it deliver through before locking my phone.

"Have an amazing day," I told Sienna and Reagan, flashing my smile at them both.

"You too, Liberty," Reagan said as Sienna waved to me.

I hummed happily, already thinking of what tonight could be.

Let's just hope Octavia can go, and the universe lines the rest up for me.