Chapter 13

"Mia? This is Dr. Dennis... you in there?"

I pull away from Jake, heart hammering. His eyes stare at me wide, not helping whatsoever. He knocks again. I scan the room for exits. Finding none, I beckon him to hide behind the door, gesturing to be quiet.

Then I watch as his 6'4 masculine self slowly tippy toes with arms bent like a sneaky tyrannosaurus, and I almost crack a smile.

Okay. Okay. We got this. Everything's okay.

I wipe my sweaty palms and trudge towards the door. Jake is pressed up against the wall and I make sure to not hit him when I open.

"Hi!" I beam at my boss.

"Uh... hi." He stammers, forehead wrinkling. "Why... what are you doing in the dark?"

I laugh breathlessly. "That's a very valid question...." My mind goes blank.

Out of the corner of my eye, Jake looks at me then pretends to read an invisible book.

I latch onto his idea without thinking.

"I was grading papers."

"In the dark?" He scowls. I have a mini heart attack when he tilts his chin to look over my shoulder. Don't panic, don't panic, don't panic.

"Uh, unfortunately yes. I turned the lights off when I heard your footsteps."

"Why?" He drawls.

I sigh slowly, shrugging a shoulder. "Because, Dr. Dennis. I'm a vulnerable woman, alone, in an empty building. I try to be safe so I don't get hurt."

Jake arches a brow in a deadpan manner while dramatically mouthing 'I wish.'

Dr. Dennis doesn't move for a horrifying second, but then his still face breaks into a smile. "Oh, dear, I'm so sorry on behalf of men who make you even have to think of such things. That's...really not ok. Come, if you're done, I'll walk to the parking lot with you, I'm headed there myself."

"Oh." I chuckle nervously. "That's alright, I have pepper spray. Besides I still have so much work to do."

Jake wiggles his eyebrows. I throw him a quick glare.

Dr. Dennis tilts his chin and grins at me like I'm his endearing granddaughter. And for some bizarre reason, I find myself appreciating it.

"Oh, Mia... " Dr. Dennis says softly. "I know you're under a lot of pressure as a new professor. But life's not just about working. It's more importantly, about living. Don't lose sight of that."

If only he knew how undeserving I was of his kindness. I feel like a jerk for lying straight to his face like that.

He misinterprets my expression as hesitation and beckons me to leave with him. I sigh with defeat and grab my purse, glancing at Jake before stepping out.

With Dr. Dennis behind me, I turn the key in the lock, knowing Jake can easily open from the inside after I leave.

"So what were you doing here so late?" I ask Dr. Dennis as we walk down the hall.

"I'm avoiding my mother-in-law, she's over for dinner."

~

"Hello?...Jake? Is it you?" I answer the number I don't recognize.

"Why are you whispering?"

"Because...yeah, I don't know why I'm whispering, I'm in my car. How'd you get my number?"

"Business card. So...are you going to keep me locked here all night or what?"

"What, no you can just open the door and leave!"

"Um...nope. I'm still locked in."

"What? Ugh, fucking shit, hold on. I'll turn around."

When Dr. Dennis insisted on seeing me safely to my car, I thanked all the angels for taking mercy and getting me out of this ridiculous loss of judgment.

But now, the very cause of my incoherence is pulling me back in and I'm chanting a mantra of self control on my way there.

"You're a strong, independent woman with logic and goals. Goals you've worked your ass off for. If you're that thirsty, sign up for Bumble. Yes, we'll sign up and go on so many dates you'll forget about Jake."

So I park, speed walk through to the building, shove the keys in the lock—

Only to have Jake already opening the door with a smirk. "Hi, are you here for office hours?"

My mouth falls open. "You son of a... I could've been home by now!"

"Okay, then go." He shrugs and closes the door.

I stand dumbfounded before barging in.

"Why would you—" I'm caught off guard when he snatches my waist and cages me between him and my desk.

"Jake—"

"Shh..."

Gaze on me, he brushes his hand slowly up my thigh. My lips part with shaken breaths.

"I knew you were wearing stockings." His husky voice drips with approval as his eyes drift down.

"How'd you... " I stammer, realizing his hand has lifted my skirt, exposing where the edge of black lace meets my skin.

Seeing his masculine grip around my leg makes me gulp. Heat spreads.

"Please tell me this isn't why you called me back here."

He chuckles softly. "No...I mean, yes. It was a part of it."

Before I can question it, he cups my face in both hands and captures my lips with a slow, firm kiss. I melt into a puddle, whimpering a little.

He pulls back, drinking me in with a heart-throbbing smile. "I also needed to do that again."

God. My heart. It's on the floor.

No. This needs to be stopped. I literally just got lucky for not getting caught.

"Jake, we can't ever be in a confined space together. That was way too close, way too dangerous and way too stupid. No more office hours, I mean it."

His eyebrow twitches with a subtle smirk. "No more office hours."

"Good. Thank you for understanding."

~

So Jake failed his midterm.

And apparently signed up to shadow me in therapy sessions for extra credit.

Every answer on the multiple choice section was wrong, while the written portion was flawless. Flaunting how the failure was completely intentional.

That cheeky fucker.

So I'm on a blanket at a park, marveling at his fluid handwriting, playing his voice in my head with each articulate line. If I close my eyes, I can picture him next to me.

When I open my eyes, I nearly jump out of my skin.

A little squirrel is a foot away from my face, wiggling his tail with expectation. It jerks back when I gasp, stares for a second straight into my eyes, then approaches me again.

"Do you mind? I'm trying to work here."

The fluffy bastard stands on its two legs, tiny nose twitching.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I raise my eyebrows. "How rude of me to ignore your priorities."

I reach inside my purse for a bag of hazelnuts, scooping a few in my hand.

"You're lucky I eat like you." I extend my arm on the grass, opening my palm.

The squirrel scampers a couple of feet away and climbs a nearby tree, tilting his tiny head at me.

"Come on, don't be like that. I'm not going to hurt you." I slowly approach it. "We're going to do this Jerry, you're going to eat out of my hand."

An hour of domestication later, Jerry's stuffing his cheeks with hazelnuts while I sit cross legged in front of him. A few people have been eyeing our interaction with amused curiosity. I smile at the creature. "For the tenth time, that's my finger, stupid. Can you not tell the difference?"

I fold the blanket under my arm, getting up. "Unfortunately, it's time for me to go, buddy. I have to see my mom. Wish me luck."

~

"Hi, honey." Bitter smells of cigarettes and alcohol creep in my nose as my mom embraces me in her frail arms. "I made food. You hungry?"

I study the space that used to be a garage before. Pictures of animals clutter the walls. Artificial flowers and tacky decorations occupy every inch of space.

She sets a table with chicken cutlets, lavash, and sliced cucumbers with tomatoes. I tense a little as she sits beside me and hands me a plate.

She talks about herself while I respond with noncommittal nods and comments, knowing she doesn't need much except an admiring audience.

As long as I keep a smile on my face, she won't get mad. As long as she doesn't get mad, I can study the weary lines of her face, the faint hope in her eyes, the sliver of childish shine in them. I can dream about a version of us where we laugh and hug, filling the abandoned cracks of ourselves.

"I worked a twelve hour shift yesterday washing dishes at the restaurant. Didn't eat anything. Didn't even get paid at the end. He said he'll pay next week," she complains.

I force myself to stay quiet. Bite my tongue. She doesn't like it when I offer solutions.

"What are you going to do?" I cautiously ask.

She sighs and grabs a beer from the kitchen, then cracks open the front door to blow smoke through it. She slides down the wall. Specs of sunlight dance on her distant face.

"What can I do? This isn't the life I wanted." She takes a drag of her cigarette.  The smoke snakes up then dissipates. Birds chirp from the fig tree outside. Leaves gently rustle. Laughter of her neighbor's children echo from next door.

My learned need to save her kicks. Against my better instinct, I slide down next to her and lean my head on her shoulder. She pats my cheek absentmindedly, grazing her nails against my skin.

"You're the only thing that stops me from killing myself." She murmurs.

My heart flips. Suicidal ideation. Again. Panic storms in. I can't stop myself.

"Don't say things like that. We can polish up your resume, apply for better jobs. Mom, you're still so young and capable, you can do anything."

When she doesn't respond, I continue. "Remember, I got you so many interviews before? Signed you up for school and financial aid? You could go back and learn something new. People can start careers at any age."

"Why? What's wrong with my job now?" She snaps.

"You...you work twelve hours a day and don't get paid. They threaten to fire if you call in sick. Don't you think you deserve better, that you can do better?"

"Easy for you to say." She shrugs, making me lift my head from her shoulder. "Your whole life's been safe, unlike mine. It's no wonder you believe you can control everything."

I try to push away the stabbing pain in my chest. The constriction in my throat.

"What part of my life has been safe? Living in poverty with a single mother? Growing up watching her get beaten by different men? Or coming here to live with her parents only to get kicked out on the streets?" I chuckle under my breath. "And I'm just scratching the surface here, you know that." 

With a scoff, she goes for another bottle. "What do you remember, you were just a kid. I was the one who had a child to worry about while all that was happening."

"Mom, why the hell do you think I specialized in trauma?" My voice gets louder. "For shits and giggles? I remember everything. I get nightmares and panic attacks. That's not my point. My point is, I refuse to let it dictate my life."

"Well, then congratulations Mia. I'm very happy for you. You're so strong and I'm so weak, is that what you're trying to tell me? That I'm not trying hard enough? Just like last week on the phone when you got mad at me for drinking?"

I swallow the lump in my throat. "I've seen alcohol bring you pain and violence my whole life. You're everything I have, you're literally my only family."

"Well I'm sorry I bring you so much unhappiness. I didn't know I'm that bad of a parent. If I cause you so much pain then why do you come here? You're not obligated, no one is forcing you, just go live your life and be happy without me."

"So that's it?" I sniffle, biting down my lip. "It's take it or leave it? You're never going to get help?"

Is this how the rest of my life is going to be? Taking care of my mom so she doesn't end up on the streets? Homeless and delirious? Dead?

"What, you want to help me like one of your patients?" She laughs. "Like one of your to-do lists? Until I'm perfect enough, good enough for you?"

Shaking my head, I grab my purse and head for the door. "Every time I try to tell you that I'm not okay, you make me feel like shit. For once, I just wish—"

I stop before the sobs break out. There's no use. She'll mock me for it.

She follows me as I walk out the door, her voice getting broken. "You think you're hurting? What about me? You're the one hurting me!"

I cover my mouth, keeping my eyes down, as my mom continues to yell. People around slow down and stare. I get in my car and hit the gas pedal.

My phone rings, reminding me I have a session with a client and her mother later.

With Jake shadowing.

Great. This is just great.

~A/N ~~

Gosh, poor Mia. She still has such a long way to go. What do you think she needs?

Question: What's one piece of advice you got that you can never forget?

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