Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91504 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
“I fucked Gabriel Wright in my office.”
Shock, horror, judgment. They spill over his features a second before he returns to his excellent therapist’s poker face. His Adam’s apple bobs, and he shifts his weight. Finally, he gives a little nod, and a second later, he’s gesturing to the staircase, ushering me back toward his office.
CHAPTER 36 Now
This box came for you.” Sarah points to the corner of her desk. I know exactly what’s inside. Thank heaven for Amazon Prime and next-day delivery.
“Thank you.” I scoop the package into my arms. “Why aren’t you shut down and ready to go home yet? Charlie has cello today, right?”
Sarah nods. “I’ll leave in a few minutes. But I wanted to talk to you before I go.”
Ugh. Here it comes. I’ve been avoiding anything more than a chat about scheduling with her for the last week. I see the way she’s been looking at me—like I’m a few fries short of a Happy Meal. Which isn’t too far off base. Though the last few days I’ve felt like I was doing better. I look down at the box in my hands, remembering its contents. Maybe not that much better.
I force a polite smile. “What’s up? What do you want to talk about?”
Sarah waits until my eyes meet hers. “Gabriel Wright.”
My heart takes off like a runaway train just from the mention of his name. I hold the box in my hand tighter. “What about him?”
She frowns. “He called twice again today.”
That’s less than last week, at least.
Before I can address it, she continues. “Did something happen between the two of you? Ever since you had me drop him as a patient, you haven’t seemed like yourself. And he just keeps calling. I promise I won’t judge if something, you know, personal happened.”
A week ago I felt desperate to talk about everything going on. I would have vomited every detail if she’d pushed like this. But talking to Dr. Alexander helped, and the last few days have truly felt like I’ve made progress. I’ve been looking over my shoulder less, checked out of the hotel I’d been staying in and went back to my apartment, took the subway rather than an Uber once. I even returned my brother’s call and answered a text from Irina promising to have lunch soon.
But I don’t want to rehash everything that transpired and cause a setback. Plus, it isn’t a short story, and I have a patient in fifteen minutes—Rebecca, of all people. Not to mention Sarah needs to get home to her son. So I tell her the truth, but only a very minuscule part of it.
I sigh. “Mr. Wright lost his wife. Talking about it dredged up a lot of painful memories for me. I thought I could handle it, but it hit me harder than I expected.”
Sarah’s eyes soften. “I’m so sorry, Mer. That must’ve been tough.”
I nod. “It was. But I’m talking to my therapist about it now. So you don’t need to worry about me.”
“Okay. But I’m here, too. Anytime you need to talk. Day or night. If we’re not at the office, you can always call me, you know.”
My smile is genuine this time. “Thank you, Sarah. You’re a good friend.”
She pulls her purse from her drawer and slips on her jacket. “I’m going to stop downstairs at the deli for a coffee. I’m dragging today. Want me to grab you one before I head out?”
“Actually…” I look at my watch. “I have almost twenty minutes before my last appointment of the day. So I think I’m going to run downstairs and grab a cup myself. I could use the fresh air, and it’s so nice out today.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Good night, Sarah. And thank you for checking on me.”
After she leaves, I go into my office with the box that came. Slicing the tape seam down the middle with the letter opener, I remove the packing paper and take out the contents.
The Quiet Clock.
The internet said it was a hundred percent noiseless, but I’ll be the judge of that…
After I insert the batteries, I hold it up to my ear. Ah, quiet. Satisfied, I drag a chair over to the offensive clock currently hanging on the wall and climb up to make the switch. The old one in my hands greets me.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Oh no you don’t,” I say aloud. I remove the batteries from the back before I climb down from the chair. And for good measure, after they’re out, I hold the batteryless clock to my ear.
Quiet.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
Now for a quick dose of fresh air and some herbal tea, and I’ll be feeling good as new.
Or so I think…
Until the elevator doors slide open at the lobby level, and I see the man coming through the building’s turnstile door.