Lizzie put one hand on her hip and stared at me, giving me a meaningful stare full of a teenager’s attitude. “Uh-huh.”
“I’m serious.”
“Sure…”
“Shut up and eat your dinner.” I handed the plate to her.
She carried it to the dining table and ate.
I sat beside her and ate, my feet tired from wearing heels all day, from running around and taking care of every aspect of Derek’s life. The job gave me so much fulfillment, but there were moments of regret, when I wished I could spend more time with my daughter. I missed more sports practices than I wanted to. I missed helping her with her homework. I missed making her dinner. If I didn’t have my parents to help out, I’d have had to turn down the job, because I didn’t want to pay a stranger to raise my daughter. But the money was so beneficial to our lives that I had to do it, and they never made me feel bad about it. Because of the generous salary, I could pay for my father’s surgery, help my parents with other medical bills, and even set up a college fund for Lizzie. I still had student loans so far up my ass, and I didn’t want Lizzie to have the same problem because she wanted a better life.
So, I just had to make the best of it.
Lizzie ate as she worked on her math homework, using her phone to look up examples for how to do the problems.
More than likely, these math skills would never help her in life, but learning how to find answers would. I forced her to use other resources to solve problems—and that was the skill that would make her successful. That was my entire job with Derek—finding ways to solve his problems.
“Does he have a son, by chance?”
I turned back to her, my eyebrows furrowed.
“Smarty-pants.”
“We’re still on that?”
“Does he?” she pressed.
“No kids.” And he didn’t want any.
“Dang. They’d be smart and beautiful.”
I couldn’t believe my daughter was developing a crush on my boss. The same thing had happened to me until I shook myself out of it…for the most part. “How was your day, sweetheart?”
She shrugged. “Soccer practice was good. Dina got detention for passing notes in class.”
“Well, she shouldn’t pass notes in class.”
“She was passing it to me, but I didn’t get caught.”
“I hope you learned the lesson, all the same.”
“We were talking about Bradley, so we weren’t even saying anything bad.”
“Doesn’t matter. You’re in class to learn, not gossip.”
She rolled her eyes. “You sound like my teacher.”
“Did you roll your eyes at me?”
She sighed. “Sorry… Now, you really sound like my teacher.”
“I’m supposed to.” Lizzie and I went to the movies and spent time together, and I knew when she was old enough, we would be friends. But right now, my job was to discipline her, to annoy her with my rules, and to mold her into a good person who understood how to treat others with respect. “And you’ll thank me for it one day.”
Five
Emerson
I stepped into the lab, seeing Derek sitting on one of the stools and working on his device. He seemed to be programming something into the simulator so it would then be programmed into the piece of machinery that he was developing. The guys worked in the background at another table, looking over their notes like they were occupied with a different component.
I approached Derek’s table and rested my arms on the surface, waiting for him to finish his thought before I spoke to him.
He completed whatever he was doing, taking a couple minutes before he stopped working on his device and looked at me, giving me his full attention. His behavior toward me was completely different than it used to be, even if it was subtle to most people. Now, he always looked me in the eye when he spoke to me, giving me respect that he gave few others.
“We need to leave a little earlier today, if that’s okay.”
He gave me a blank look, like he didn’t understand my statement.
“We have an appointment with Dr. Collins.”
His expression slowly changed, morphing from soft and approachable to furiously hostile. And it all happened in less than a few seconds. He set down his device and turned away, holding his silence like he was trying to compose himself instead of lashing out.
I’d expected this reaction, so I wasn’t surprised. It reminded me of when I forced Lizzie to do something she didn’t want to do, and she threw a tantrum to get her way.
When he spoke, his voice was controlled, like he was exerting all his strength to remain calm. “Working hours are for work. I have a lot of stuff to do—”
“Your health is your priority—physical and mental. The office closes at five, so it needs to happen during business hours. I’ve asked him to come to your penthouse to make you more comfortable. It may feel like a big sacrifice, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”
“Maybe there is no end. Maybe I’ll never get better.”
“You won’t with that attitude.”
He continued to stare at the table.
“This is happening regardless of how you feel about it. So, you may as well embrace it instead of fight it. You told me you would try—so let’s try.”
He glanced at the guys across the room before he rose to his feet. He grabbed his things, put them in his satchel, and then headed to the front door.
I watched him go, reading his annoyance in his body language, the way he carried himself like he was being forced with a gun to his back. But at least he was going…and that was because of me.
Derek sat on the couch in the living room, his cheek propped against his closed knuckles, his eyes staring at nothing in particular. Invisible clouds hung over his body, and the bad energy of his presence only intensified as time passed.
A knock sounded on the door.
Derek had no reaction.
I opened it and greeted Dr. Collins. “Thank you for coming.” I shook his hand and welcomed him inside.
“You must be Emerson.” He had a leather folder with him, which was closed and tucked under his arm. He took a quick look around then turned to Derek on the couch. “Lovely home.” He approached the couch.
Derek sat there for a while, resisting. But then he rose to his feet and extended his hand. “Thank you.”
Dr. Collins gave him a soft smile. “Dr. Hamilton, it’s great to make your acquaintance. I’ve been looking forward to this discussion.”
Derek forced a nod.
Dr. Collins took a seat on the other couch and prepared himself for the conversation.
I placed a bottle of water on the table for him before I sat beside Derek.
Derek turned to me with angry eyes.
“He signed an NDA.” I knew this man so well that I could read him like a book. “He will not share any of your information with anyone.” I moved my hand to his arm and gave him a gentle rub to calm him, to tuck away all his paranoia so he could be vulnerable.
He relaxed at my touch.
Derek got comfortable then stared at Dr. Collins.
With his pen in hand, the doctor crossed his legs and got comfortable. “I think the first thing we should do is discuss your hesitation. Most of my patients feel the exact same way, feel very awkward telling a stranger all their private thoughts. You don’t share that information with people who you are closest to, so why would you share them with me? You aren’t alone, Dr. Hamilton.”
Derek just stared.
“So, tell me why you think this is a waste of time.”
Derek propped his cheek against his closed knuckles again. “Because I’ve done it before—with no success.”
“How many sessions did you have?”
Derek was silent again for a while, like he might not answer. “Two.”
Dr. Collins didn’t take any notes.
“I know you’ll say that isn’t long enough, that’s why it failed,” Derek said.
Dr. Collins shook his head. “Actually, no. It failed because you weren’t ready, you didn’t want to be there, and the person you spoke to didn’t fit. That’s what I think.”
Derek turned slightly farther to him, as if that response piqued his interest.
“So, are you ready this time?” he asked. “Because if you aren’t, we have no chance of success.”
A long pause consumed the living room, absorbing into Derek’s skin like lotion.
I tried not to stare at him, but it was difficult, because I gauged his feelings from the look in his eyes, but I didn’t want to overwhelm him with attention.
Derek continued to hold his silence, his eyes on Dr. Collins. “I said I would try…so I will.”
Dr. Collins gave a nod. “That’s a great attitude. I can tell this will be much different from your last experience.” He made some notes in his book. “Emerson didn’t give me a lot of information because I like to learn about my clients through personal conversation, not from a different source. But she did tell me you have unresolved guilt that’s been weighing you down for some time. Most of my clients have lived through something very traumatic, and those experiences make them feel a lot of things—and guilt is one of them. I can also tell you that we can work through this together to give you closure, to allow you to move forward with a stronger sense of self and happiness. The only thing I can’t tell you is the duration of that process, because every person is different. But we will reach the finish line—at your pace.”
Derek stared at him.
“Are you ready to tell me about the event in question? Or should we talk about something easier? Like your work, family, something you’re more comfortable discussing?” He held the pen to the paper, ready to make notes.
Derek cleared his throat as he considered it. “I’m an aeronautical engineer and physicist. I work in collaboration with NASA and the government to further our advancement and technology in space exploration.”
“That’s fascinating.” Instead of writing notes, he just listened.
I kept my hands in my lap and stared at the side of Derek’s face.
“Anything else you can tell me about?” Dr. Collins asked.
“I’m also a professor of engineering at NYU to graduate students.”
“Then you’ve got a full schedule,” Dr. Collins said. “The fact that you took time out of your life to be here, doing this, when you could be doing something much more interesting is a testament to your attitude.”
The longer they talked, the more Derek loosened up. “Emerson wanted me to do this…that’s why I’m here.”
“Yes, she cares a lot about you,” Dr. Collins said. “It’s essential for all of us to have people who we trust, especially at this intensity, and the fact that you have someone you can be so transparent with is a testament to your character, because it isn’t easy earning that kind of loyalty from someone. She told me she’s your assistant, but I can feel a closeness between you two that’s profound, and I can tell this isn’t part of her job. She’s here because she wants to be here, because you’re someone worth her time. You must be a remarkable person to earn that from her.”
Derek dropped his gaze for a moment, the silence lingering, and after an eternity of quiet, he found a response. “It says more about her character than mine. She’s just a selfless person.”
“I respectfully disagree, Derek. You have someone sitting beside you who thinks the world of you, and she doesn’t think that way about anyone else. Based on everything she’s told me, at least.”
I felt my heart race because I wondered if my feelings weren’t as invisible as I thought. I rejected a physical relationship because I knew I would want more, and if I allowed myself to feel anything at all…I would feel everything.
Derek looked away for a long time. “I feel the same way…about her.”
I dropped my gaze because that meant a lot to me. He’d never said anything affectionate to me before. I worked hard to make his life easier when I could slack off and get away with much less, but I truly cared about his happiness. It seemed like he cared about mine too, because he agreed to do this when he didn’t want to.
Dr. Collins stared at him for a long time, like his admission was some kind of breakthrough. “Have you told anyone about this session?”
Derek’s gaze returned to his. “No.”
“So, Emerson is the only person who knows?”
“Yes.”
“Is it safe to say that she’s the closest person to you?”
It was a loaded question, and Derek clearly didn’t know how to answer it. “If that’s how you want to quantify it, then yes.”
“Is she someone who knows you better than anyone else?”
“I don’t understand why the entire topic of our discussion is Emerson,” Derek countered.
“I’m just trying to get to know you,” Dr. Collins said. “And based on this interaction, I feel like her presence in your life is your most fundamental component. If you don’t talk to anyone else but her, then she’s your biggest supporter in life. Do you disagree with that statement?”
After a long pause, he shook his head. “No.”
My eyes softened.
“I have friends I spend time with, but we don’t have deep conversations. I’m close with my family, but I don’t really have deep conversations with them either. When Emerson started to work for me, I treated her the way I treat everyone else—with indifference. But once she became an invaluable person in my life, that started to change. I don’t trust people often, if ever, and she’s forced me to do that. Well, she didn’t force me… She proved to me that I could.”
“Why don’t you trust people?”
Derek rubbed his fingers across his shadowed jawline. “Because I’ve got a target on my back.”
“Could you elaborate?”
“I’m rich, brilliant, different…and people try to take advantage of me. Emerson doesn’t.”
“What about your romantic relationships? When was the last time you had one?”
Derek looked away, as if the question made him uncomfortable. “This isn’t relevant.”
“Your answer makes it relevant.”
He rubbed his jawline again. “Ten years ago.”
He hadn’t had a meaningful relationship with anyone in ten years? I hadn’t either…and it was ironic.
“And what happened in that relationship?” Dr. Collins asked.
Derek didn’t answer. “Ever since I can remember, I’ve wanted to be in the stars. My initial ambition was to be an astronaut. That was my goal. But the older I became, the more grades I skipped, the higher my scores went, I realized that my mind should be used more effectively, which was why I decided to work behind the scenes and send people to the stars instead of going there myself.” His hands came together in his lap. “It was my dream to work at NASA, and when I left graduate school, it was my first job. I designed a new rocket, took me years to develop it from an idea to a working piece of machinery. But when it was scheduled to launch, I discovered an error. I tried everything I could to stop that rocket from launching, but…” Derek didn’t finish the story. All he did was shake his head and fall silent, like he didn’t have the heart to give the ending.
Dr. Collins was quiet, giving him the opportunity to finish. When Derek didn’t, he spoke again. “It was Odyssey 3, wasn’t it?”
Derek didn’t look at him. All he did was give a slight nod.
Dr. Collins spent his time staring at Derek, like silence was better than words.
Derek absorbed the silence a long time. “That’s why I’m such a hard-ass now, with my employees and my students. Because errors cost lives, and you shouldn’t be in this business unless you can make sure errors don’t happen.” His chin rested against his knuckles, and he stared at the floor.
“Did you do everything you could to stop it?”
Derek’s eyes shifted back to his, and slowly, emotion filled his gaze. “I warned my boss a dozen time
s. Then I went to the director. And then I went to the astronauts…and that was when they fired me.” He inhaled a deep breath, and when he released it, it was loud and shaky.
“That sounds like a yes.”
He closed his eyes, and a single tear ran down his cheek. “But I built that fucking rocket…” His voice came out as a whisper, so quiet that we wouldn’t have been able to hear him if there were any other sounds in the penthouse.
It was hard to see him like this, to see someone so good carry so much pain. He was the best person I’d ever met, a man who believed in preserving lives instead of saving money. For someone who hated people, he cared about them more than everyone else. I moved closer to him and rested my hand on his arm, just so he would know that I was there, that he wasn’t alone, that I would carry whatever weight he would allow me.
Dr. Collins kept his eyes on Derek. “You found the problem and raised your concerns to every person possible. It doesn’t matter if you built the rocket. You did everything in your power to stop it. It’s an industry with a lot of risks, and when someone who actually designed the rocket has concerns and you fail to listen, then you aren’t taking your job seriously. The astronauts were warned but chose to risk it anyway. The only person to blame is the director, who could have paused the launch to investigate your claims. Dr. Hamilton, this isn’t your fault, and I’m not saying that because you’re paying me to. It’s easier said than done, but you should let it go. You’re carrying the weight of the dead, a weight that belongs on someone else’s shoulders.”
Derek stayed quiet, his body pivoted away so he didn’t have to look at either of us.
“You may have built the rocket, but you also found the error. If someone else had taken your claims seriously, all of this would have been avoided. That’s concrete fact, Dr. Hamilton. Whenever you feel overwhelmed by those memories, remind yourself of what actually happened rather than your emotional response to that tragic day. You did everything you could to stop it, lost your job over it, and that didn’t stop you from trying. If you ask me, you did a lot more than most people would dare.”
The Boy Who Has No Hope (Soulless Book 6) Page 5