“You told me he lost his mom last week. He lost his wife last year. He has a baby, Gabby. He might not be a knight in a Porsche, riding off into the sunset and going on exotic vacations, but if someone who’s been through that much loss can love again… I mean, he has a daughter, he wouldn’t just go around proclaiming love to the first woman he meets, don’t you think?”
He has a point. Benton’s been through as much heartbreak as I have, and has had less time to process it as me. I can’t say I’ve processed well, but if he’s willing to put his heart out there again, why can’t I? I know what I feel; I’m not stupid. I know these last few days without him have hurt more than the constant thought that I’m going to end up hurting one of them. That alone should be my sign that I need to give it a real go. I need to tell him my feelings.
“You’re right,” I say, calming a little and sitting back on the couch. “I think it’s time I tell him how I feel. I need to apologize,” I whisper.
“Gabby, have you told him the truth yet? Does he know what happened to you?”
My eyes flick to his, and I start to panic. “No. No, he doesn’t, but… but, if I… if I tell him-”
“He’s going to want to help you, Gabby. He’s not running from you. Not now, not ever. You have to have a little more faith in the man,” he says, almost like he’s getting annoyed with me. Like he’s rooting for Benton without even knowing him. It’s cool that I have a shrink that isn’t afraid to show his emotions, but I want to be coddled, dammit! At least a little bit.
“I know,” I mutter. “It’s just scary… that’s all.”
“Eventually, you have to let go of your fear and start to trust him,” he says, shrugging. “I have a client booked after you, Gabby. Let’s talk about the medicine you’ve been misusing,” he says, signaling for me to move on from my pity party.
He’s right, though. I do need to put more trust in Benton, and in myself. What could telling him everything hurt?
Everything. It could hurt everything.
We spend the rest of my hour talking about ways other than meds to help calm myself. He wants to start seeing me once a week again until things normalize, which I’m okay with. If talking shit out with my shrink helps me keep a straight head on my shoulders, I’m down. By the end of the appointment, I feel better about the situation with Benton and I’m no longer stressed about the job situation either. Dr. T has a strange way of calming me.
“So, I’ll see you next week, then? I’ll leave this block open for you every week if this works?” he says, ushering me to the door. Strange, he never walks me out of his office.
“Yeah. That works,” I mutter, trying to keep my head down. I hate looking at the people in the waiting room. They all know I’m crazy when I walk out of his office, and I don’t like it when they stare.
“Great, I’ll see you then,” he says, and opens the door for me to leave as he calls the next patient in.
“Benton, you ready?” his voice rings from behind me, and I immediately jerk my head up to see Benton’s worried face staring at me. Fuck.
“Uh… Yeah,” he mutters, then nods at me as he follows Dr. T back to his office, only looking back once to make sure he wasn’t seeing something.
I stand there in shock that that just happened, staring at the door as it clicks closed behind him.
What the hell?
BENTON
A Set Up
“What was that?” I ask, as the door clicks behind me. Dr. Travers hasn’t looked at me the entire walk back to his large office. That was definitely Gabby back there, and she was definitely coming from an appointment with him. Why else would she have looked so frazzled? “Dr. T?” I demand, like he owes me something.
He fucking does owe me something. I know he had a hand in that.
“Yes?” he asks from his desk chair.
“Did you plan that? You never walk patients out,” I grind out. He knows something. Why else would he have done that?
“What’s so wrong with wanting to stretch my legs?” He stretches his legs out in front of him and groans. “I’m getting too old for this sitting around all day.”
His eyes catch mine, and I know he’s lying. I narrow my eyes at him and shake my head. Why would he have done that? He knows from my phone call the other day I’m having issues with this whole thing. I want her so fucking bad, and these last couple of days with her ignoring me has been hell, but I’ve been giving her the space she needs. Every morning that I’ve woken up with no response to my texts, and no missed calls, I lose a little bit of hope. I need her in my life, but, if she can’t open up to me, I’m not sure how to help her.
“Listen… you’re paying for this. Why don’t you sit and have a talk with me?” He motions towards the chair I always sit in, and I chuckle.
“You set that up back there, didn’t you?” I rub the back of my neck, astonished that the good old Dr. T is trying to play matchmaker.
“I’m unsure what you’re talking about, Benton.” His blank face is so damn hard to read, but he has to know. I’ve said her damn name too many times for him to not put two and two together.
“Gabby. You know about Gabby and me. That’s why you just did that, isn’t it? You never pick up patients on your own¸” I say, starting to pace.
Damnit, just seeing her back there made me want to wrap my arms around her and never let her go. Fuck. I miss her so bad, and it’s only been a few days. This shit’s insane. These feelings I have for her are stronger than I had with Carly, and I hate thinking that, but it’s true. Carly was a true love, no doubt, but Gabby…. I just feel like Gabby and I are meant for each other. Like we fit together perfectly… as long as we open up to each other.
“Ah, Gabby,” he says, shaking his head. “She’s a sweet girl.”
“Damn right she is,” I mumble.
“What was that?” he asks, eyes on mine.
“Nothing. Let’s get this over with,” I growl, sitting in the chair.
We spend the entire hour talking about my relationship with Gabby, the loss of my mother, how being a single parent is. He’s curious most about my feelings towards my relationship with Gabby, though. He doesn’t necessarily want to know why I love her, or what I’d do for her, but it’s as if he’s trying to get my true feelings of how things have worked out between us.
“Fuck, I don’t know. I hate that it all got so muddled. It’s like, the moment we decided to give being exclusive a go, my mom passed and shit just went to hell. I see something in Gabby that I want to help, but she’s not letting me in. I’ve tried letting her in to my story, but she shuts down. Having a kid… well, that shit doesn’t make it easy for adults to have heart to hearts.” I chuckle and Dr. Travers smiles and nods his head.
“True, but it’s needed. Those conversations, if never done properly, can break relationships.”
He’s right.
We need to talk. Really talk. We both need to lay our shit out there, and get over it together, because that’s what I need. I need her.
After the appointment, I head back to get Hannah from my dad. He’s been going fishing a lot more lately, not spending much time at the house. Every time I see him walk into the kitchen, he makes it a point not to walk next to where he found my mom. I still remember having to clean up her blood from the kitchen floor that my dad wasn’t able to get. I don’t walk in there at all. Not yet. Maybe one day.
“Hey, B,” he says from the living room. He’s holding Hannah, who’s fast asleep in his arms. It’s not her bedtime yet, but seeing how peaceful he is holding her, I don’t say anything about it. He needs her. He needs to feel needed. My mom relied on my dad for a lot, so I’m sure he’s feeling a little lost right now.
“Hey, Dad. How’d tonight go?” I ask, packing up the diaper bag.