Page 37 of Shadowing Charlotte

Chapter thirty-seven

Charlotte

F riday came far too soon. I walked out of Hewart, dragging my feet. I'd been shocked when Alexander had booked me an immediate appointment with his former therapist the day before. What kind of therapist had that kind of availability?

"Let's go, princess. We're already late!" Lex called out the open window, just as I pulled the car door open.

"You seem far too excited about this," I noted, trying not to pout at him. The last thing I need to do was give him another excuse to call me immature or a brat. Still, my stomach twisted and turned the entire way to her office.

"I think this will be good for you, baby," Lex said as we pulled to a stop. "I'll be back in an hour." He kissed my cheek and ushered me out of the car.

Inside the sparsely decorated reception area, I froze.

Even when the girl at the front desk greeted me, I didn't move, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

My eyes were glued to the little sign on the door that read: Celeste Stonebrook .

It sounded like a name out of one of those fantasy novels I'd been editing.

"You must be Charlotte?" I hadn't even realized the door had opened, but there she stood, dressed in a tailored blue suit.

Her greying hair had been pulled back into a no-nonsense kind of bun, but her the skin around her eyes crinkled as she offered me a friendly smile.

I stared at her, unable to form words. "It's alright, come on in," she encouraged, gesturing toward the office door.

As I entered the office, I could feel sweat accumulating on my hairline. The room was surprisingly cozy, nothing like the stark reception area. Still, I wanted to be anywhere else. "Have a seat. "

I sank down onto the leather chair, swallowing anxiously. "You must be very special, Charlotte," she said, idly opening a file and placing a small stack of papers on her desk. "Alexander hasn't been my patient for over four years, but he was rather insistent that I see you as soon as possible."

"He thinks it will help," I managed to croak out, "but… I don't really want to be here."

"Most of my patients don't want to be here." Her words were kind and understanding. "Alexander didn't, when he first arrived. Did he tell you how we met?" I shook my head. "Alexander was referred to me after an ER psych evaluation. After his mother was committed, he tried to kill himself."

My mouth went dry, and the room felt like it was spinning around me.

"Lex?" I breathed, unable to believe what she'd just told me. Dr. Stonebrook nodded. "B-b-but… Can't you get into trouble for telling me that?" I whispered.

"Alexander has given me express permission to share his past with you," she replied. "But we're not here to talk about him right now. We're here to talk about you. So, Charlotte, tell me about yourself."

"What do you want to know?"

She chuckled, writing something on one of the papers.

"It doesn't matter what I want to know. What is important is how much you would like to share with me. We can talk about your childhood or your parents. If that isn't a good starting point for you, you can tell me about your job, or how you and Alexander met."

"And you won't tell anyone what we talk about?"

"Unless someone is in immediate danger, I am not allowed to share any details of your life to anyone," she assured me.

"Did Alexander tell you he was stalking me?" I didn't mean to say it, but the words spilled out without a second thought. Her eyebrows rose, but she said nothing, making another small note on the page.

"He did not…" she finally replied, looking up at me. "But you two are—"

"Dating, yes…" I replied. "Does that make me sort of fucked up, dating the person that followed me around for two years?" It felt strange telling anyone the nature of our relationship, but also rather relieving. I adored Lex, but it felt nice to be able to speak so truthfully about how we had met.

"Alright, so tell me more about that," Dr. Stonebrook urged.

"Well, I always knew he was following me—suspected it—rather," I confessed.

"And it didn't occur to you to call the police?" she asked, her brows knitting together in concern .

"No," I answered honestly. "I mean… Logically, I should have, but… I guess I sort of liked it. The attention. Even if I didn't know who it was from." Another scribble on the paper; a slight nod of her head.

"And where do you think that stems from?" she inquired.

"What?"

"Your craving for attention, regardless of the source," she elaborated.

My jaw clenched, my pulse racing as I blinked back the tears that sprang into my eyes.

I didn't crave attention. No, that wasn't it.

I got enough attention from my friends, Adam, my father…

It wasn't attention I wanted. It was the need to be understood, desired, despite being completely broken inside.

"That's alright; take your time," she murmured. "We can take this at your pace."