Chapter 16 Now

So, how's being back to work?" Dr. Alexander settles in across from me.

It's the first time I've seen him since I started seeing patients again. "It's good. I was a little nervous the first day. But it was like riding a bike. If I'm being honest, it's nice to talk about someone else's problems for a while. I'm sort of sick of my own."

He smiles. "I'm sure your patients are glad to have you back, too."

I nod.

Dr. Alexander is quiet. He catches my eyes, then points his gaze down to my lap. Apparently, I'm wringing my hands and don't even know it. I unclench and sigh.

"Is there something you'd like to talk about today?" he asks.

I hadn't decided if I was going to tell him about Gabriel. But now that I'm sitting here, I realize I need the voice of reason. So I take a deep breath and blow it out with a nod.

"I took on some new patients."

He nods. "You mentioned that some of your patients had left in your absence. And your assistant has been running some advertising to rebuild your practice, in anticipation of your return. Are you finding that more stressful than seeing your regulars?"

I look down for a long time. I'm so tempted to tell him that's what is bothering me. That I'm nervous every new patient who walks through my door is going to want to talk about the loss of a loved one. It hasn't happened with any of my regulars yet, but the thought has been in the back of my mind. What if I break down listening about the death of a spouse? It would be so easy to tell him that's my concern. Dr. Alexander would never know the difference. But I want to get better. I want to move on.

"One of my new patients…" I trail off and bite down on my bottom lip. It's not easy to say. I'm ashamed. I know that what I'm doing is wrong. Morally and professionally.

When I don't pick up where my sentence left off after a solid minute, Dr. Alexander assumes my hesitation is for reasons other than what they are.

"We can talk about your patients and their problems here," he says. "A lot of therapists go to therapy and discuss things that come up in sessions. It's natural for things we hear to upset us at times in our line of work."

I lift my eyes to meet his. My heart pounds, and it takes everything in me to say the words out loud. They come out in a rush. "One of my new patients… is Gabriel."

Dr. Alexander's brows pull tight. "Gabriel, as in the man you were following? The man whose…"

I nod.

To his credit, other than a few blinks, he manages to not display judgment. He somehow maintains his even-keel tone, too.

"Tell me how this came about?"

I babble for a few minutes, explaining how shocked I was when he walked in. That it was a complete surprise. Not my doing. How I jumped into therapist mode and took a history, asked the usual questions, because I had no idea how to handle it. How to act.

"So you've only seen him once?"

I swallow and shake my head.

"Okay. Well, I would imagine you were thrown for a loop when he walked in that first time. It sounds like you panicked and handled it to avoid confrontation. But why did you see him the second time? It would have been simple enough to have your assistant call and say your caseload is too heavy or you think he would do better with a different therapist."

I look away, finding the tree outside the window that I've already become acquainted with. After some thought, I shake my head. "At first, I couldn't believe it was a coincidence that he was sitting in my office. I mean, what are the chances that the man that my husband—that we…" I take a deep breath. "That Gabriel Wright wandered into my office. There are four thousand psychiatrists in New York State. I looked it up the other day. If forty-three percent of the population of the state lives in the city, it stands to reason that seventeen hundred psychiatrists might be here. And Gabriel walked into my practice. On the first day I returned to work? Even if I put the accident aside, this is still a man I followed on a daily basis for quite some time. I even ran into him once."

"It does sound like an awful lot of happenstance. But I take it you've ruled out anything sinister going on, since you said ‘At first, I couldn't believe it was a coincidence.'?"

I nod. "He'd have to be a sociopath to deliver such a compelling monologue in therapy. Gabriel Wright is just a broken man seeking help, who happens to have seen one of my advertisements, and my office happens to be not too far from where he lives."

"Why haven't you referred him to someone else?"

"Because I really think I can help him. Isn't it the least I can do when it's partially my fault his life is ruined?"

Dr. Alexander purses his lips. "You're justifying, Meredith. You have to know you've crossed a line with this. Following is one thing, but treating a man you have a serious personal connection with, without him knowing your true identity… It's not ethical."

I sigh. "Then I probably shouldn't tell you I also find myself a little attracted to him."

That does it. I have broken the ever-composed Dr. Alexander. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose.

I frown. "I've disappointed you."

He shakes his head. "I'm concerned for you. Both professionally and as a patient." He fits his glasses back onto his nose and leans forward, elbows on knees. "I don't have to tell you that there's a reason the Medical Code of Ethics bars physicians from having certain types of relationships with patients. Patients, especially mental health patients, come to us in very vulnerable states. Having any type of outside relationship that involves emotions can impair your judgment. You're playing with fire, Meredith. And that's just on a professional level. As your doctor, my concerns for what this could do to your own mental health are grave. It must be devastating for you to listen to how this man's life was ruined by the actions of your husband. Why would you subject yourself to this?"

My throat swells tight, like there's only a pinhole for air to travel through. I swallow a few times, attempting to ward off the sharp sting of tears. But it's no use. They spill over and stream down my face.

Dr. Alexander reaches for the tissue box and holds it out to me. "I'm sorry if I was harsh. I'm usually more restrained. But as a colleague, I feel a sense of obligation to remind you of the consequences."

I sniffle and blot my eyes. "There's no apology necessary. You're right. You're absolutely right. And I needed to hear it." I take a minute to compose myself. "You asked why I would subject myself to something that will cause me pain. It's because I deserve it."

Dr. Alexander's face softens. "Let's start there today…"