Chapter Twenty-Four

 

Rory

 

“Tell me about a positive memory you have of being outdoors in the sunshine. Something significant enough you can draw up the emotions attached to it.”

Dr. Kelby had been coming twice a week for a month to visit me. Adrian had been by my side at each appointment, not only as support but as an unofficial apprentice, learning his way through every phase of my therapy.

Because of my determination, openness, and the comfort level between Adrian and I, Dr. Kelby had pushed my limits a little harder than she’d originally planned. So long as I didn’t show regression, we’d been taking steps along the path of immersion therapy to eventually wean me back into the sunlight.

If I thought about it too hard, I panicked, so I tried to focus on the tasks she gave me each week and not get too far ahead of myself. As it stood, we spent a great deal of time talking about the sun.

“A positive memory in the sun.” I scratched my chin as my knee bounced. “When I was a kid, my mother used to take me to the beach on hot days. We were poor as dirt but lying in the sand and swimming in the lake didn’t cost a dime. She used to build sandcastles with me. We didn’t have those fancy molds, but she collected empty plastic containers and egg cartons. They worked the same.”

“That’s good.”

Dr. Kelby sat across from me in the chair where Adrian used to sit when he’d come for sessions. Adrian was beside me, his hand on my knee trying to still my bouncing. The dim light on the end table was on. The doctor had insisted I work at keeping at least one light on in my home during all waking hours. Even if Adrian was in school and I was alone. If I was unable for any reason, I was to document it and explain why.

“Talk to me about that day. How hot was it outside? Did you need to swim to stay cool? If you can describe the feelings associated with that day, I’d like to hear them.”

“Umm… it was really hot, that’s why we were there. We didn’t have air conditioning. When we got there, we swam first because we were all sweaty. I remember the way the sun warmed my skin when we got out of the water. We dried really fast without towels.

“My mother was always diligent about covering me with sunscreen because I’m so pale. She’d lather me up and make me wear a hat at all times. I remember watching the teenagers tanning and thought it was cool. I’d lie on my towel and pretend to be tanning too.”

“How did it feel to pretend like that?”

“It made me happy, and I felt grown up.”

I understood the purpose of her exercise. She was trying to encourage my mind to remember the sun as positive and not negative.

Once I’d shared the traumatic incident in my past, and we’d discussed the embedded fears I faced daily as a result, we shifted to positive techniques for handling my daily life. Every meeting, we reserved a few minutes at the start for a discussion on darker topics. Any bad experiences or symptoms of anxiety I’d experienced were addressed at that time, then, we flipped the coin and stuck to positive only.

“Your mother made you very sun-conscious by the sound of it. Ensuring you wore protection at all times.”

“Yes. You know the redhead’s fate otherwise.”

Dr. Kelby’s hair was more strawberry blonde, but she was fair, and I guessed she probably struggled with the same issues most fair-skinned people faced.

She didn’t respond with anything more than a smile, and I knew it was because we weren’t discussing trauma at that point.

“Was there ever a time when your mother’s ministration failed?”

“Did I ever get a sunburn?” I clarified.

“Or sunstroke, perhaps from being outdoors too long?”

“Oh, no. She always ensured we took breaks and were well hydrated. She’s a good mom.”

“Sounds like it.” She shifted and set her notepad aside before folding her hands in her lap. “I want to ask you something, and I want your logical brain to answer, not your panicked mind, okay?”

The hairs on my arms stood on end, and Adrian found my hand, linking our fingers. He was my rock and had been through all of this. I didn’t know what I was going to do when he moved into his apartment in two weeks. I’d grown used to having him around.

“Okay, ask.”

“Logically, with a thick layer of sunscreen, how long do you guess it might take for a fair-skinned man like yourself to burn in early morning sun in mid-September?”

My heart leapt into my throat because it felt like she was readying to push me out the door to find answers.

“It’s hypothetical, Rory. Breathe through the panic and think. I want you to use logic when answering.”

I pushed out a breath and avoided the reactive response which told me I’d burn in seconds. Milliseconds. I was burning already just considering it. Dislodging my fingers from Adrian’s, I rubbed at my arms, feeling the tingle crawling up them.

Logical. Logical.

I shook my head, knowing an early morning sun in mid-September when loaded with sunscreen wouldn’t harm me. “I don’t know, hours. But that’s if time remained still and sunscreen wore off.”

“So, you agree, it’s not a threatening situation?”

“I’m not going outside,” I said pointedly.

She remained silent, waiting for an answer.

“I agree,” I mumbled, scratching my skin, trying to ignore the heat erupting over its surface.

 

* * *

 

Every following session, Dr. Kelby asked me a similar question, painting a similar scenario and asking me to answer with the logical part of my brain. Initially, I didn’t understand what she was doing until the fourth or fifth time she presented me with a question, and I realized, I no longer had a physical reaction. My arms didn’t burn, and my heart remained calm.

“Baby steps,” she’d said when I pointed it out. Her smile gave me confidence and made me want to prove myself even more.

By the beginning of October, Adrian was settled in his apartment and submerged fully in his schooling. He gave up his job at the counseling center when Dr. Kelby asked him if he’d be interested in being her official apprentice and help with her phobia study. It wasn’t as though she needed help, but his dedication and interest was so high, and his questions were endless, that I think she was doing us both a favor. It was a great stepping stone for him, and it didn’t interfere with his studies too much. He was responsible for all the grunt work, filing and keeping her notes in order, but he was invited to join in on sessions when her patients allowed him presence. He was over the moon. It gave him more confidence than I’d ever seen him have.

That night, I’d promised Adrian I’d stay at his new apartment for the first time. As many times as we’d gone over my needs and fears about being away from home for a night, he’d encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone. Once the sun went down, I locked up my apartment and stood in the hallway for a few minutes taking deep breaths.

To a stranger, my progress might seem minimal or non-existent, but to me, I’d already gone far. There were only random days when having the lights on in my apartment bothered me. They still weren’t bright bulbs, but I’d spent so much time in darkness, it was a huge deal to have them on all the time.

In the hallway of my apartment, the lights overhead didn’t bother me as much anymore either, and since I was proud of the advances I’d taken in the artificial lighting department, I felt half inclined to ride the elevator to the first floor instead of taking the stairs—if only to prove to myself I could stay in control.

Adrian’s words rang through my mind on a loop every time I got overzealous—like now. Don’t push yourself too hard. Only do what feels comfortable. So far, standing stationary in a wash of hallway light, I didn’t have any discomfort, so I took a few steps toward my goal, checking my pocket for my shades just in case.

I got as far as pushing the button before the hairs on my nape stood on end. Then, my heart tripped faster. When the elevator doors opened to the brightly lit chamber, I turned around and fled down the stairwell instead. The harsh brightness and the idea of being confined within was too much.

Adrian’s apartment was only a few blocks away, and the early October breeze cooled my panic-heated skin. Blooming frustration took its place, and the weight of self-defeat made my mood plummet. Even though I was no longer feeling residual effects once I reached Adrian’s complex—and should have taken it as a win—I couldn’t help my spoiled mood.

By the time I made it to Adrian’s door and knocked, I’d forgotten all about the struggles I might have to face in his living space because I’d been too caught up in my failures back home.

He swung the door open with a grin and waved me inside.

“I can’t believe you’re at my apartment. This is so exciting. How are you doing?” He noted my dampened expression and halted. “What’s wrong?”

I scanned his open concept living room and noted the single lantern with a dark shade which was illuminated. The bulb was slightly brighter than the ones I used at home, but it didn’t trigger any ill effects.

“Nothing.” I shrugged my backpack off my shoulder and tossed it on the couch. “I got it in my head I was going to brave the elevator tonight and failed.”

Adrian pulled my head around and forced me to meet his gaze. “What are you calling failure?”

His fingers danced up and down my arms, and he adjusted his glasses as he waited for me to explain.

“I left my apartment, and the hallway’s lights haven’t felt assaulting at all lately, so I thought I’d take the next step and ride the elevator down. I pushed the button, but when the doors opened, I couldn’t do it.”

“That’s not failure, Rory, that’s progress. You’ve never even toyed with the thought before. The fact you are contemplating and taking progressive steps forward isn’t failure. Just like Dr. Kelby’s hypothetical questions, if you do that much, push the button and wait for the doors to open every day, eventually, it won’t frighten you anymore. Then, you take the next step. You can’t rush your healing.”

He spun and waved a hand to the lamp I’d noticed. “Like tonight. I’m testing your intensity level. This is a forty-watt bulb. If you can be comfortable with it, then I think we should switch out your twenties at home.”

I took in the room again, searching and determining if I was experiencing any ill effects from his brighter apartment. Then I decided, if I had to consciously dig for symptoms, they probably weren’t there.

I nodded and blew out a breath. “Sounds like a plan. So, did you pick a movie or are we heading right to bed?”

I wiggled my brows insinuating my preference. He laughed and tugged me down on the couch.

“We’ll have plenty of time for both.”

Because he was back in school and on a more regular schedule—sleeping at night and up during the day—I’d used that for another stepping stone and worked hard to fix my body back to the same schedule. Being up in the day had caused more anxiety in the beginning, but like everything else, I’d adjusted, and it became less scary in time.

“We need to get to bed early tonight because I have a delivery coming here at the crack of dawn.”

I threaded fingers through his hair with a grin as Adrian lifted his head from my shoulder and peered at me with question in his eyes. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise. Start the movie so we can get to bed.”

He glared for a few more minutes then fired it up. Sleep was long delayed. Adrian was determined we christen his new apartment—repeatedly—and I wasn’t about to deny him. His words to me the other week tickled my heart and, so far, the only way I’d been able to return them was through actions.

 

* * *

 

The incessant ringing of the doorbell the following morning at the ass-crack of dawn made me smile. It made Adrian curse a blue streak when I refused to get up and answer it.

“It’s not for me. I don’t even live here,” I explained, the humor in my tone unhidden.

Adrian stumbled out of bed and tripped as he fit his legs into my joggers and crashed into the wall in his attempt to get to the door and cease the non-stop buzzing.

“Your delivery man is going to die. I’ve watched every episode of CSI, and Criminal Minds, and NCIS AND I have a degree in psychology. I can kill this jerk, dispose of the body, and play innocent by successfully manipulating an interrogator’s mind without anyone being wiser.”

“Your glasses,” I called, laughing when he almost knocked himself out on the door frame.

I hopped out of bed and tugged on my boxers while I ran after him. I didn’t want to miss this at all. I just hoped Krew was prepared to be body slammed on the off-chance Adrian was seriously contemplating homicide.

I caught up in time to pass off his glasses. He scowled as he fit them on and yanked open the door.

“For the love of…”

I stood back and waited, counting down from ten while Adrian pieced it all together. By the time I reached six, I got the response I expected.

His voice rose two octaves when he squealed. “Oh my God! Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

He bounced on his toes with his arms extended, wiggling his fingers at Krew, his animosity long forgotten. Krew’s smile was just as huge as he passed off the six-week-old kitten in his arms.

“Sorry for the early wake-up call, lovies, but Samson did not appreciate the company last night.”

He put the tiny golden Persian in Adrian’s arms as he dashed a glance in my direction. “This little guy is from Rory, I’m just the third-party delivery man.”

“He’s so precious,” Adrian cooed. He turned and showed me his furry new friend. “I thought you hated cats.”

“Pff.” Krew waved a hand like Adrian was being ridiculous. “Rory likes to hear himself bitch, sweetheart. He loves cats.”

I shrugged and scratched the little guy’s head. “They’re not that bad. Besides, I know how much you enjoyed it when Samson was at my house and how much you talked about your cats from when you were at home. He needed a home, I needed the perfect housewarming present and voila.”

“I can’t believe this.”

Krew and Adrian cooed and played with the kitten together, chatting like old friends and sharing cat stories. I was happy to see them getting along so well.

“I have a trunk full of kitten gear,” Krew said as he bounced up from where they were lying on the carpet, playing with the cat. “I’ll go unload it. Any chance I can sweet talk someone into making me a coffee?”

I kissed Adrian’s head and shooed Krew downstairs to get the supplies while I made a pot.

Once the kitten was set up and we all had a mug of java in hand, Krew scanned Adrian’s apartment.

“Nice place. It’s all bright in here. How you doing with that, sugar?” he asked me.

I shrugged, once again noting how the living room was far brighter than mine back home. Maybe Adrian was right, and it was time to switch to brighter bulbs. Maybe in a few months, I’d be all right shopping at night again or going to a café once the sun went down. It would be nice to be able to do those things with Adrian.

“It’s all good. One step at a time.”

Krew and Adrian both gave me matching smiles.