“What would you like to talk about?”
“Nothing.”
“Alright.” Haizley sat back and lifted her phone. I knew she was opening her reading app.
“Aren’t you supposed to push?”
Her eyes left her phone and found mine. “Why would you think that?”
I shrugged. Realizing one question had given her more information than I had intended.
“Have you been in therapy before?”
“When I was a kid. After my parents told me I was adopted.”
“You said it didn’t change anything when you found out?” she questioned.
“It didn’t.” I shrugged again. “My parents didn’t believe me so they made me see a shrink.”
“Did it help?”
“With what?” I asked.
“Your parents believing you?”
This woman constantly surprised me with her astute way of assessing a situation from a single sentence. “No. The shrink didn’t believe me either.” I fidgeted in my seat. We were getting close to a subject I wanted to talk about even less than my parents and Rachel.
“How long did you go?”
“Three years. Until I turned eighteen. They couldn’t make me go after that.”
She studied me without a word, and the more she sat without talking, the more nervous I got.
“What were you diagnosed with?”
“How the fuck do you do that?”
“Do what?” she asked, an innocent but deceptive expression on her face. She knew exactly what the fuck I was talking about.
I exhaled my defeat and said, “Apathy, stemming from Reactive Attachment Disorder.” I had done the research on RAD and it didn’t fit with what I felt inside. It wasn’t that I couldn’t feel emotion. I just didn’t see the need to create drama from my circumstances.
Haizley snorted, and I narrowed my eyes at her. “You disagree?” I asked.
“I do. I’ve seen you with your brothers. I saw you in town with Rachel. You clearly have no problem feeling emotion. Not everyone who chooses not to take part in PDA has a mental health issue.”
I thought about what she said. I wasn’t opposed to PDA; hell, I had been known to fuck a club girl or two in the bar at the Little Rock chapter. But I met Rachel so soon after we set up here, and fuck if I would share her with anyone.
“Did you love your parents?”
“Of course I did. They were my fucking parents. They opened their home to me; they loved me like parents should. I didn’t react when they told me I was adopted because as far as I was concerned, nothing had changed. They were the only parents I had and the only parents I wanted.”
Haizley tilted her head and took a deep breath before asking her next question. “Did you love Rachel?”
I stood from my seat, walking over to the door. “I’m done for today,” I snapped. It didn’t matter that we still had more than half an hour. I yanked the door open and left. Slamming it closed behind me.
I expected her to follow me outside. Try to persuade me to come back in and talk. But she didn’t. Swinging my leg over my bike and starting her up, I glared at her front door. Angrythat she would ask me that question but disappointed she didn’t insist I answer it.
The truth was, I didn’t know if I could. After reading her letter, the things she said, I had to wonder if I really did love her. I’d thought I did. I wouldn’t have asked her to be my old lady if I didn’t.
