Page 29 of Don’t Leave (Stay #2)

CASSIDY

T he the week leading up to Thanksgiving break flies by at breakneck speed. There are papers to write, tests to study for, hours spent at the tutoring center, and hockey practice to work myself over in so I can fall into a dead sleep at the end of the day and not spend more time stewing over Cole.

Does it work?

Not really.

I’ve arrived at the painful conclusion that I screwed up the best relationship I’ve ever had.

After my late-night dinner with Sammy, I decided to take a giant step back from the situation and focus on the reason I’m at Western in the first place.

Academics.

I’m pouring all my time and energy into my courses and trying hard not to dwell on Cole or Luke. Until I decided to pull back and get clarity, I hadn’t realized how much everything was spiraling out of control.

I think Dr. Thompson would be proud of me for doing what’s best for myself and seizing control of my life again. I miss her insightful comments and conversations. Once or twice, I dialed the number to the counseling center before quickly chickening out and hanging up the phone.

Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at nine o’clock, I attend my Psych 201 lecture.

When I arrive, Cole is never there. I know the exact moment he sneaks in because I get a little prickle at the nape of my neck.

Even though I’ve caught glimpses of him around campus, it’s always from afar.

Thankfully, I haven’t spotted him with Vanessa or Andrea.

Or Jackie.

Catching sight of him, even from a distance, feels devastating.

My heart lurches every single time.

Just like it is at this very moment.

My feel stumble to a halt as my hungry gaze slides over him.

It’s not a surprise to find yet another girl at his side.

I can’t tell who she is because she’s bundled up against the bracing November chill that sweeps through campus.

He’s wearing a navy pea coat and has a dark beanie pulled low over his brow.

Pieces of his dark hair stick out from beneath the tight knit fabric.

My hands tighten at my sides. I miss sifting my fingers through his messy strands.

He couldn’t look any sexier if he tried.

The girl he’s walking with must agree with the sentiment because she’s beaming up at him.

They look like they’re deep in conversation as he says something before laughing.

His dimples flash and my heart constricts because I remember what it felt like to have him look at me the same way.

Unable to watch the interaction for another moment, I swing away before hustling down one of the winding pathways. With my thoughts full of Cole, I don’t think about where I’m going, my next class, or all the things on my to-do list this afternoon.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to move on or get over him.

Even though it’s freeze-your-ass-off-cold, the sun is shining brightly. I blink and find myself standing outside the student counseling center. I try not to think about the irony of unconsciously finding myself outside Dr. Thompson’s office as I slump onto a bench.

I pull out my phone and realize that I have an hour before I need to be at the tutoring center for my shift. With any luck, my brain will be too consumed with equations, quadratics, and proofs to dwell on Cole.

After a long stretch of moment, someone settles next to me. I shift my body away, hoping that whoever it is will take the hint that I’m not interested in engaging in meaningless conversation.

At this point, I’d rather pop a vein.

I’m kidding.

Sort of.

“Cassidy?”

The soft voice has me whipping around until my gaze lands on the last person I expected to run into. Although, considering that I’m sitting outside where she works, maybe I should have. A burst of nerves flutter to life at the bottom of my belly.

“How have you been?” she asks.

My brows lift at the innocuous question. Of all the things I imagined her saying to me—I’m so glad you’re no longer dating my son, I never realized how fucked up you were, maybe you should consider transferring to another college—that wasn’t it.

I suck in a deep breath and try to get my neurons to fire. “Um…good.”

Her lips curve into a smile. It’s one filled with kindness. “I’m glad to hear that.”

I can’t stop thinking about how weird this feels.

Other than the unexpected meeting at Cole’s house and at the ice rink, I’ve never seen Dr. Thompson outside of her office. The fact that we’re sitting in broad daylight, on a campus bench like it’s the most natural thing in the world, makes this all the more bizarre.

When it becomes obvious that I’m not going to pick up the conversational ball, she says, “I’ve been hoping you would make another appointment so we could talk.”

Unable to hold her steady gaze, mine slices away because we both realize that wasn’t going to happen.

“It just felt too weird,” I admit.

“Cassidy…” She takes a deep breath but doesn’t say another word until I glance back at her. “I realize that discovering your boyfriend’s mother is also your therapist must have been a surprise.”

That absurd statement is met with a gurgle of laughter that sounds as if it’s being strangled from me.

“For obvious reasons, if you decide to come back for counseling, I wouldn’t be able to treat you.”

Oh, the horror.

I can’t even imagine it.

“No, probably not,” I add weakly.

She clears her throat. “It would be a conflict of interest.”

To say the least.

“But I want you to know that if you’re still interested in receiving counseling services, there are two other therapists who work in the office.

Either one would be an excellent fit for you.

Or, if you’d prefer to go off campus, I can give you a referral.

It’s up to you.” She reaches out, laying her hand over mine before giving it a gentle squeeze.

“My chief concern is making sure you have the support and assistance you need to be successful at Western.” There’s a pause before she adds softly, “I’ve been worried about you. ”

The sincerity of her tone confuses me but then again, maybe it shouldn’t. Dr. Thompson has always been kind, thoughtful, and caring.

My mind tumbles back over the past couple of weeks.

My breakup with Cole has been difficult.

Even though it was touch and go for a while, I managed to handle it on my own.

And that feels pretty good. Maybe I didn’t realize it at the time, but I was actually able to apply a lot of the tools and coping mechanisms I learned in counseling to the issues I was having.

It’s the reason for learning them in the first place.

Huh.

How’s that for an ah-ha moment?

“You know what?” A hint of a smile plays around the edges of my lips. “I think I’m good.”

The fact that I’ve learned how to deal with my own problems instead of needing someone to hold my hand feels like a breakthrough.

One I can’t help but take pride in.

“Have there been any anxiety attacks?”

The slight smile tilting my lips upward grows as I shake my head. “Nope. None. My chest has tightened up a couple of times, but I was able to breathe through it. And I do a lot of self-checks to assess how I’m feeling. When I need to talk things out, I have a few friends to do that with.”

And that’s new as well.

Not seeing Dr. Thompson has been difficult but it’s nice to know I can handle life on my own again. It’s a huge step in the right direction, which is kind of an amazing realization considering that these past two weeks have totally sucked.

Although, without them sucking, I wouldn’t have realized just how much I’d grown.

She nods, genuine pleasure lighting up her face. “It seems like you have everything under control. I’m proud of you, Cassidy.”

My gaze holds hers and for the first time since she sat down, some of the tension leaks from my muscles. It feels a little like it used to between us, which is nice.

That’s the moment I remember that I was sleeping with her son.

“Cassidy,” she says, interrupting the freight train of thoughts steamrolling through my head, “it’s all right.”

I shift on the bench as heat floods my cheeks. “What do you mean?”

“Your relationship with my son has nothing to do with me. It’s two separate situations and although I can’t work with you professionally as a therapist, I want you to know that I have no issues with you seeing Cole.”

My mouth tumbles open. “How can you say that?”

I mean, she knows everything about me.

The good, bad, and ugly.

“Everyone has issues, whether they see a therapist for them or not. Everyone comes with their own unique set of baggage. I’m not in the business of judging people for what they’ve been through or the mistakes they’ve made.”

“But you can’t possibly want me with him” I whisper.

Cole deserves the best. He deserves a girl with her shit together and that’s not me. I’m still a work in progress. Maybe I’ll always be a work in progress. I can’t help but stare down at my fingers which are tangled in the hem of my thick winter coat.

“Cassidy,” she says, drawing my attention back to her, “I want my son to be happy and in a healthy, loving relationship. That’s all any mother can hope for.

Cole is a grown adult, and he’s more than capable of making his own choices.

” There’s a pause before she adds, “And his own mistakes. I can’t stop that from happening. ”

I glance away before mumbling, “Does he know I was seeing you?” My drops even lower. “Professionally?”

“Of course not. I would never divulge personal information about a client. There are strict laws against that, not to mention ethical oaths I took when I received my license to practice. I take my professional responsibilities very seriously.” She gives me a penetrating look.

“I hope you realize that. I’d never do anything to harm a client.

My role in your life is to offer help and assistance.

Now, if you chose to tell him, that’s your decision.

But I will never discuss our relationship with anyone else. ”

Even though I understand what she’s telling me, I can’t stop the question from shooting out of my mouth. “Does your husband know?”

She shakes her head. “Absolutely not. He’s under the impression that we met for the first time at our house.”

That’s such a relief.

I force my gaze to hers. “Cole and I aren’t seeing each other anymore.” My guess is that I she already knows this, but I tell her anyway.

“I know,” she acknowledges quietly. “He mentioned it.” She clears her throat. “I really hope I wasn’t the reason.”

I inhale a deep breath before forcing out a response. “No, you weren’t.”

“Good.” She winces before correcting herself. “Well, not good…”

“I know.” I force myself to admit, “I messed up our relationship all on my own.”

“I guess you need to decide if your relationship with Cole is worth repairing.”

If I didn’t know better, I’d think she might actually be encouraging me to fix things with her son.

“I don’t know if that’s possible.”

Would he be willing to give me a second chance?

Or has he already moved on?

I’ve spotted him around campus with several different girls. My heart constricts every time it happens. It’s painful to think about him loving someone else the way he once loved me.

“I suppose that’s something you’ll have to figure out for yourself.”

I nod in agreement.

With a glance at her wristwatch, she says, “I need to get back to the office, but it was lovely to run into you, Cassidy. I think you’ve grown tremendously in the short amount of time you’ve been at Western.

You should be proud of all you’ve accomplished and keep focused on the goals you’ve set for yourself.

” There’s a pause. “You should feel good about the person you’re growing into.

You need to give yourself a bit of grace and stop being so hard on yourself.

” She gives me a knowing look. “Sometimes we’re our own worst critics. ”

We fall into silence as I allow her words to wash over me.

Emotion gathers in my throat. “Thanks, Dr. Thompson…for everything. I’m going to miss you.” As the words fall from my lips, I realize how true they are.

“It was my pleasure, Cassidy. And remember, if you decide you’d like a referral, just give the office a call. All right?” She squeezes my hand for a second time.

“Yes.” I smile, feeling less weighted down than I have in a long time.

Closure.

I hadn’t realized just how much I’d needed it with her.

She rises to her feet before brushing off the back of her coat. “Good luck.” Her gaze holds mine as she adds, “with everything.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, afraid that if I say anything more, I’ll break down and cry before she can disappear inside the counseling center.