I sighed as Lucas pulled the key out the ignition. I turned to him, a grimace clear on my face. "Oh no, don't give me that look." Lucas said, already knowing what I was to say and do.
"But I don't need her. I'm fine!" I argued.
Since Liz's party, I'm not going to lie, I have been in the dumps lately. I haven't really been friendly, or nice, or very approachable, but that isn't the point. The point is, I'm fine. However, Lucas doesn't agree. So, he's brought me to my therapist in hopes that she could figure out what's 'wrong.'
"This," he reached over and yanked the sunglasses off my face, using hand gestures towards my face, "that is not 'fine.'" He countered, referring to the dark circles and bags under my eyes from the lack of sleep.
I audibly gasped, and narrowed my eyes at him, "Did you just call me ugly?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose, "No. Shit, that came out wrong. What I'm saying is-"
"I don't even wanna hear it." I rudely stated, unlatching my seatbelt and jumping out the vehicle.
Right now, I probably looked like a spitting image of my mother. Whenever she was mad, she'd scream or yell then storm off, which technically was exactly what I was doing. But, I had a reason; he called me ugly. Then again, I had a tendency for overreacting. It wasn't purposed, it's just that, at the moment, it seemed really important to me.
Lucas caught up to me by jogging, and just in time to open the door. I scoffed at him before walking inside the building. I waited while Lucas went, and talked to the receptionist. If he wanted me to do this thing, then he'd have to do it all by himself. A couple minutes later, he was back by my side, kissing my cheek and telling me he had to leave for work, and if he didn't, then he'd be fired.
I told him that he should've let Drake drive me then, that way Drake'd be getting fired instead of himself. Needless to say, he didn't want Drake driving me, because he was walking on a thin line with trusting Drake around me now. Anyways, he told me that he'd be back around one o'clock, his break, to pick me up. And that, maybe if I was good, then he'd take me out to lunch at Whataburger. After he said that, my act had slightly tidied up. I gave him his kiss, and saw him out.
Unwillingly, I sat in the unsurprisingly, uncomfortable chairs in the waiting area. I absolutely hated waiting, but my therapist was the best in town. I had forgotten my phone back at the house, when Lucas just invaded my space and dragged me down here. So, I had no choice but to wait until she was done.
"Ms. Harris?" I stood up, sighing as I did so, and walked towards the receptionist beckoning for me. "Hi, how are you this morning?" He chirpily asked.
"I'm great, and yourself?" I tried mirroring his tone, but I failed.
"I'm wonderful. And, Mrs. Gladys is ready to see you now." He gave me a smile, to which I returned, and I thanked him before slipping into Mrs. Gladys' office.
Drake assigned Mrs. Gladys to me. The night that he promised to do whatever it takes to help me, he hired her. Along with my check at the law firm that I've been working at, and his check from his job, we've both been making ends meet easily with some to spare. With the left over money, I've saved up enough to fly out to my sister, and get out of this town, which was still weighing heavy on my mind.
"Ah," she warmly greeted, "how nice to see you again, Jay."
I couldn't help the smile that overtook my face. Mrs. Gladys was somewhere between the ages of fifty and sixty, with gray hair, and faded green eyes. She is probably the most kind woman that you'll ever have the pleasure of meeting. Usually, therapists are just there to do their job and get paid. However, Mrs. Gladys is the total opposite. She actually gets to know her patient, deeper than the usual therapist would do. She lets you get comfortable with her, and trust her before she slowly goes into your past.
