I haven’t seen Eve for three weeks and I’m miserable. So fucking miserable that basically all I’ve done since I told her we couldn’t be together is work and be completely anti-social.

I finally successfully pushed her away and severed our professional and personal relationship, and I should feel relief for it, but I don’t. Instead, she’s all I think about, day and night. I feel all the things I thought I would never feel again. All the things I tried to shut out all these years after I lost Sloane. But this is different. It’s so much worse, because the way I feel for her is so much more.

With my glass of scotch in my hand, I flop my body on the couch. Just as I start to relax, my phone vibrates across the coffee table. I know who it will be. It’s going to be Jace. I peer down and low and behold, I’m right. It’s him. Since I haven’t been to the last three Sunday night dinners it’s no wonder he’s calling. Avoiding my family like the plague has obviously not gone unnoticed.

“What,” I answer, not even pretending to hide my attitude. I’m not in the mood for a lecture about how Mom wants to see me again. That was last week’s call. I know already.

“What the hell is up your ass?” Everything.

“Nothing.”

“Is this about that girl?”

“She’s not “that” girl. She’s not some girl,” I blurt out before I realize what I’m saying. Shit. Now he’s going to ask questions.

“Okay, spill. It’s time to tell me what the hell is going on with you?”

“I met a girl.” I let out a deep ragged breath. “It’s more than that, though.”

“I’m listening,”

“She was my patient.” There I said it, the truth is finally out there. No more avoiding the truth. Now all I can do is brace for his response, for his judgment.

“Fuck.”

“Yep.”

“So now what are you going to do?” There’s nothing in his voice but concern, and it make my shoulders drop in relief. It’s bad enough losing Eve, but having Jace disapprove would have sucked right now.

“I had to let her go.”

“So what’s the problem?”

“I want more,” I admit on a sigh.

“Yeah, I can see how that could be a problem. I understand, but don’t you think some things are worth risking everything for? I don’t know who this girl is but if she’s the one Logan won’t stop talking about, I would say she’s worth it.” She is.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Well other then the obvious, her being a former patient and all, there’s also the small problem of Sloane.”

“What about her?”

“Well maybe I’m suffering from counter-transference?” I whisper. I can still hear Eve’s words replaying in my head. Was this because of Sloane? Was Eve some sick sort of replacement?

“I think it’s time you go back and start speaking to someone again. The fact that you’re even considering that, means you aren’t over what happened. I think this girl is special. I think that she might be worth risking it for, but you’ll never know until you face your issues about Sloane.”

He’s right. I have to. When Sloan died, it left a stain on my soul, one that years later has still not left me. Sloane called the day she overdosed. I was mad at her, so I sent her to voicemail. She needed me and I didn’t answer. I should have seen the signs. I should have answered the phone. That decision still haunts me every day. And although I don’t believe my feelings for Eve are misguided, I still need to find out. I need to know, not just for me but for Eve as well.

* * *

Therapists really do make the worst patients. Sitting here waiting for Dr. Audrey Kenner to speak is agonizing. I’m ready to bolt out the door, when I finally see her pull out her notebook and turn to me.

“Why are you here? You haven’t seen me in quite some time. Did something happen?”

I consider what to say. I can’t tell her about Eve. Or at least I can’t divulge that she was a patient, so I come as close to the truth as I can without stepping over the edge.

“I met a girl.” My teeth gnaw at my lip as I determine how to proceed. “She looks like Sloane and she’s been through a lot. She’s . . .troubled. I’m afraid my feelings might be misplaced.”

“Do you think you are falling for her in an attempt to heal her, to fix her the way you weren’t able to fix Sloane?”

“I’m not sure.”

“When did you start having these feelings for her?”

“I always thought she was beautiful, but when I saw her, the real her, I knew she was more than a pretty face.”

“And when was that?”

“When she made my nephew smile.”

“I think you just answered your own question, Preston.” I quirk my brow at her and wait for her to continue. “You didn’t fall for her because she was weak, you fell for her compassion, her strength, her resilience. When she was able to put her own sadness aside and put your nephew first.”

She was right. Everything she said was right. This was more than Sloane. I fell for her . . . I’m in love with her.

“I have to go.” I need to tell her.

“Preston. I’d like to talk to you a little about Sloane now, actually. If you can give me a few more minutes, I’m a little concerned about this. It’s been years since you came to me and spoke about this. You became a therapist because of her, but at what point is it enough? At what point do you forgive yourself and stop punishing yourself for not seeing the signs? You were a kid. You were still in school. You weren’t a psychologist then, so how could you have known? How could you have saved her? It’s been years. You really have to stop punishing yourself and live your life. Be happy. She would have wanted that for you.”

She’s right. I do. I know exactly how to do that. I need to allow myself to be happy.