Fractured

7. Meltdown

I watched as Kael disappeared into the building, leaving me standing on the curb with his words still echoing in my head. "You didn't jump, did you?" His voice had been calm, cutting through the weight I'd been carrying all day. I didn't know how I felt about his reassurance, but he had a point. I was still here.

The drive home felt longer than usual, the cloudy sky dulling the afternoon. My hands gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, my mind buzzing with everything that had happened.

Kael had this way of getting under my skin, saying things that I hadn't even realized I needed to hear. But that didn't make the truth any easier. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep pretending I had any answers, let alone trust myself to find them.

My thoughts spun in circles as I pulled into the driveway. The house looked the same as always—modest, with its chipped paint and front porch that creaked whenever the wind picked up. I sighed, turning off the engine and sitting for a minute, staring at the front door. What kind of conversation was waiting for me inside?

I headed in, closing the door softly behind me. The scent of lemon cleaner hit me immediately, and I blinked, confused. My mom was in the living room, wiping down the already spotless coffee table with an unnecessary amount of elbow grease.

"Mom, why are you cleaning on a random ass Saturday?" I asked, dropping my keys onto the side table.

She didn't even look up. "Just thought the place could use a little touch-up." Her voice was too casual, like she was hiding something. "Besides, we're having a guest for dinner tonight."

A guest? My stomach twisted. "Who?"

"Dr. Gray." She said it like it was no big deal. "I wanted to thank him for everything he's done for you. Figured a home-cooked meal would be nice."

My heart skipped, panic creeping in. "You invited Dr. Gray? Here? For dinner?" The words tumbled out, and I felt my face heat up. Dr. Gray— the last person I wanted to see outside his office, especially after the incident at Walmart.

"Yes, Jessie." She finally paused her cleaning to glance up at me, her tone a little defensive. "I thought you'd appreciate it."

"Mom," I huffed, feeling my frustration rise, "you didn't even ask me." I was practically glaring at her now. "Are you ever going to stop treating me like a child?"

She blinked, straightening up and looking at me like she didn't understand why I was upset. "What do you mean? How am I treating you like a child?"

"Oh, I don't know," I said, the sarcasm slipping into my voice. I held up a finger, ticking off the reasons. "Let's see, maybe it's inviting my therapist to dinner without telling me. Or forcing me into therapy in the first place. Or how you're always hovering, like I can't handle things on my own."

Her expression softened, but I could tell she was holding back a sigh. "Jessie, I'm just trying to help you."

"Well, sometimes your 'help' makes things worse." The words came out sharper than I meant.

Her fists found her hips, her expression hardening. "Lose the damn attitude, Jess. I know you've been through a lot, but you aren't the only one. Go upstairs and get changed, and please, for the love of God, brush your hair."

I shot back, my voice thick. "You think I can't handle myself? I'm not a kid anymore. Just because you invite him over doesn't mean I'm going to—"

"Act like a child, get treated as such," she interrupted, her voice rising slightly. "Now, please, get dressed."

I glared at her, my hands curling into my pockets as frustration tightened around me. I was so tired; tired of being boxed in, of being treated like I was small, fragile, or wrong for just existing.