Chapter 5

Today was terrible. The worst day ever.

It was the last day of my court-appointed therapy with Orson. I sat in my chair across from him, pouting. Maybe I just wouldn't leave. I'd refuse to leave the chair. I wondered if he'd try to pick me up. If I didn't daint from him doing that then I'd cling to him and never let go.

Shit, I needed a better plan.

I eyed Orson. He was watching me pout and squirm without saying a word. His purple eyes looked over his steepled hands just observing me slowly dying inside.

Maybe I could blurt something out that made him concerned. Suddenly scream out I'm suicidal. Shit, that would get me a grippy sock vacation, not more therapy appointments with Orson.

Maybe I could say I tried to kill someone again.

Maybe I could tell him I'm in love with him.

No, no, no. None of these would work. I wasn't the anxious type but suddenly I felt like I was going to have a panic attack. I was never going to see Orson again unless it was from afar. Dreams filled my head. Dreams of being in his car, him clutching me in his arms, pressing kisses to my neck, telling me how tempting I am. I didn't want to lose these therapy sessions. I needed to be close to him or I'd go insane.

"I have some bad news but I'm hoping you'll handle it with some grace," he finally said. I looked at him with wide eyes, gripping the chair's armrests tightly.

"We've known each other for a year now and in that time, well…" he sighed and took a moment to frown slightly. I frowned too. What was he getting at?

"Last week I had to submit my assessment to the court."

"Oh," I said, eyes darting around.

"I'm supposed to sign off that your therapy was successful but I didn't."

"You didn't," I said in confusion. "Like, you didn't submit the paperwork?"

"I did submit the paperwork but I did not approve you. Actually, I requested that you continue in therapy for another year." He waited for my response but I was masking hard.

"Another year of therapy… with you?" I asked.

"Yes," he said. "I know this isn't what you wanted to hear but Bree," he reached across the desk with an open hand. I unlatched one of my hands from the armrest and set my hand in his. He gave it a polite little grip.

"Mhm?" I couldn't say more than that or I'd start jumping up and down and screaming.

"This isn't me saying you aren't getting better. This is me saying that I think you are better… with me here to talk to. You understand? I think we need to continue seeing each other for as long as you need."

"Another year," I said, wanting him to confirm it again.

"Or longer," he said. There was a gleam in his eye as if he wasn't sad at all. That in fact, he was just as happy as I was that we were going to stay together.

"I see," I said blankly, trying not to show how happy I was.

"I hope you aren't too upset we'll be stuck together for much longer." He flashed a strange smile at me.

"I'll try not to be," I said back with a smile I couldn't help. He squeezed my hand and I squeezed his back. If his smile looked a little weird then I'm sure mine looked twice as strange.

There's no getting away from me now, Doctor Orson.