Chapter Sixteen
QUINN
I made sure that I had all my bases covered by the next Monday. I went to the clinic and got an STD test, despite knowing that it was hugely unlikely I’d picked anything up. The report came back negative, of course, and I kept it in my purse. I spent Saturday and Sunday debating over whether I was going to continue to try to see Sawyer as a patient. It would be hugely irresponsible to try and have both relationships, so I needed to pick one.
By the time Monday morning rolled around, the only conclusion I’d reached was that the situation was tricky and I was going to have to talk to him about it. Recalling what he’d said to me in my office during our encounter, I opted for slacks instead of my pencil skirt, and a loose blouse that did little to show off any figure I might have. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I looked like I was trying not to look remotely sexual. I pulled my hair back into a ponytail and pushed my glasses on—the glasses I didn’t know whether he liked or not, but most men I’d been with preferred them off.
It was ridiculous to take all these measures to make sure I didn’t look attractive, and I couldn’t help but berate myself for overthinking the situation on my way to the office. When I walked into the waiting area and saw Sawyer, though, I was glad that I’d worn what I had. He’d chosen to wear a short-sleeve shirt, and I could see his tattoos more clearly.
I wasn’t sure exactly where one tattoo ended and another began, but they were beautifully done. Some roses, some eagles, traditional and typical tattoos but done tastefully and all I could remember was how those arms had felt wrapped around my waist, how his fingers had felt digging into my hip bones…
I shook my head and smiled at him. “Good morning,” I said. “You’re here a little—you’re always here early.”
“I try to be,” Sawyer answered. He returned the smile.
I sucked in a breath. “I, um, I hope that we’re both clear on the terms of your coming to these sessions,” I spoke as we walked back to my office. He got the door for me, eyebrow raised in an unspoken question.
“What we did, last time, on Friday. It doesn’t change anything,” I said. “I’m still your psychiatrist. We’re not… these sessions aren’t for sex. We can’t stop doing work just because of what happened.”
Sawyer laughed. I’d expected him to be disappointed or even angry, but instead, he laughed as he sat down on the couch. “I agree with you one hundred percent,” he said to me, smiling. I didn’t see anything facetious in his smile, and his words were without sarcasm.
“Alright,” I said. “So we’re good to have a regular session?”
“Of course,” he said. He motioned towards me and then to my office. “You have the floor, Dr. Rodgers.”
“Well, you have the floor,” I pointed out. “You’re not paying so that I can talk to you, after all.”
“That’s true,” he said.
I smiled. “You seem to be in a better mood today. Did you do something fun over the weekend?”
He raised his eyebrows at me again.
“On Saturday and Sunday,” I clarified, excluding our sexual encounter from the realm of conversation.
“I went out on Saturday and had some drinks with Pete. Well, a drink with Pete,” he said.
“Yeah? How did that go?”
“It was alright,” he said. “I mean… A couple of my old friends showed up. One of them had drugs, and Pete got defensive.”
That was quite a lot to take in. People didn’t usually showcase that they were carrying drugs when they went out to bars—but then, I didn’t know where Sawyer had gone or what they were around. I thought about what Babs said, about Sawyer hanging around Stacy, and couldn’t help but get a little curious. Thankfully, it was literally my job to ask further questions.
“Why did Pete get defensive?” I asked.
Sawyer shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable. At this point, I couldn’t see really what he had to lose telling me anything. He must have come to that realization on his own, because he looked up and started talking again.
“When I got out of college, I was kind of stuck. I mean, I had a degree in business, and I probably could have gotten a job, but I hated everything that was offered to me. I couldn’t stand cubicles or desks or offices or cities. I just wanted to be left alone for the most part. I started going out and drinking as a sort of distraction,” he said. “At some point, I met Stacy. She’d gone to my old high school, and we’d never talked, but we just sort of hit it off. She was way more into drugs than I was. I smoked some pot in college, you know, everyone does, but I’d always been afraid of drugs.”
I had similar experiences. I’d always think of the science behind LSD and what it could do to a brain and just like that, I’d ruined whatever party I was at.
“But Stacy was convincing,” he said. “And I was bored and stupid. It got out of control, and my dad found out, there was a whole mess made over it.” He ran a hand through his short hair. “Anyway, once I realized that I was messing up my life, I joined the military to get away from it. I figured it could give me a fresh start, or at least teach me some discipline.”
“Do you feel like the military helped?” I felt like I’d had my worst fears confirmed, but it didn’t bother me as much as I’d thought it would. Sawyer had made some mistakes, sure, but he’d clearly recognized them. Most people would consider a brief stay in rehab or a breakup to be substantial reform from a situation like that. Sawyer had gone overseas for six entire years to get away from it all. It wouldn’t be fair to force him to further prove himself.
“Definitely,” he said. “They teach a lot about independence. Well, independence as a civilian, anyway. Self-discipline, things like that. I feel totally different than when I left. I wasn’t about to take them up on it, on Saturday night. Pete intervened, but I would have walked away on my own.”
I nodded and believed him. If he’d taken the drugs, after all, he likely wouldn’t even be here. He certainly wouldn’t have told me about it. When people relapsed, they tended to vanish, at least from people they didn’t know too well. Did I qualify as a person close to Sawyer?
“I think that’s a good sign,” I said. “You’re staying out of the wrong crowd. It’s important to stay away from people that encourage drug use. One of the biggest things I see is good people hanging around bad people and acting like them. It’s a mob mentality thing, and it brings out the worst in people.”
“It does,” Sawyer agreed. “I don’t want to go back to my old life.”
“That’s also good,” I said. “Especially if you’re dealing with night terrors and things like that. Drugs can make all of that much, much worse. Sometimes people turn to drugs for temporary relief from a traumatic experience, they want an escape, but it always makes everything much worse in the end.”
“I believe that,” Sawyer said. “Doing drugs was like… I don’t know, digging yourself into a deeper hole. You feel like you’re going somewhere, but one day you realize you’re stuck.”
It was a flawed metaphor, but I knew what he meant. “Right. There are some AA meetings nearby, and those aren’t just for alcoholics. They’re great for people dealing with drug addiction, too, and there are some specific to veterans that I can look up if you’d like.”
Sawyer shook his head. “I don’t think I need that. I’ll let you know if I do, though.”
I appreciated how compliant he was. A lot of people got ornery when I suggested that they get help for their problems. Stacy, in particular, was angry when it was suggested she seek help. The times she’d been in rehab hadn’t been her decision; more often than not they were court-ordered, and she’d been happy to take it over the jail sentence.
Frankly, the thought of Sawyer in a similar position made me sad. I didn’t want him to go back down that road. He looked too dignified to be involved with drugs.
When the session ended, he hung back a moment to clarify our next appointment. “We have an appointment Wednesday?”
“If they’re helping you,” I agreed. “I don’t want to waste your time three times a week if it’s not helping.”
“It really is,” Sawyer said. “Not just… last time, I mean sessions like this help a lot. You listen better than anyone I’ve ever talked to.”
I couldn’t help the blush that rose to my cheeks. I appreciated being complimented on my professional skills. It wasn’t the same as being told I was beautiful or being told how badly he wanted me, but it was certainly still something I treasured.
“Well, thank you,” I said. “I’m glad to help.”
“Actually…” Sawyer trailed off for a second. “I was thinking, I still wanted to talk to you before the meeting Wednesday. If you’re still opposed to it, I understand, but I’d still love to take you to dinner if you’d let me.”
He was terribly bold, asking me again. I smiled, recalling something of a promise from him not to ask me to dinner again. But a lot had changed since then. We’d done a lot since then to make it foolish to try and say, ‘Oh, no, dinner would be too brash!’
I’d already slept with him. Dinner certainly couldn’t hurt at this point.
“That sounds great,” I said. “You’ve got my number. Just let me know when you want to pick me up, alright?”
He looked shocked, and I suppressed a laugh at that shock.
“Of course,” he said. “I’ll… I’ll let you know.”
I bit my lip and waved as he walked out of my office.