Torn

by T. N. King

  “So we’ve had what is it, a two week lapse between our sessions? My fault, obviously, but how have those two weeks been for you?” Other than the injured leg, it certainly looked as if his vacation had treated him well enough. His face was slightly wind burnt, but his smile was even easier than it normally was and the stress lines that had been accumulating rather severely in the weeks previous to him having left had been noticeably alleviated. Which Mason supposed had been the entire intention of the holiday to begin with. He shrugged slightly, one shoulder dipping just that much higher than the other and lifted his coffee to his lips instead of answering verbally. He had been. He doubted he looked similarly relieved of pressure considering how the past few weeks had been, even one of his less nosey coworkers had commented that it looked like he could use a few extra hours of sleep a night recently.

  “How was your vacation? Besides the bum leg.” Diversion, even if, considering who he was using it on, it was unlikely that it would last for long. Especially considering that smile that he got in return for asking. The both of them knew that while he did ask more personal questions now than he had the first year or two of his seeing Dr. Friedrich he still wasn’t the type of person to encourage small talk often. It was just a blessing that the man allowed him to do so at all and indulged his unspoken request for a few more minutes to settle in.

  “The bum leg was a result of my brother’s overeager slope riding. I told him we’d gotten too old to continue on those more advanced ones, but you know how old men can be.” Easy, the sitting back into his chair and smiling at Mason as he was. It was the kind of comfortability that came only from years of developing their relationship, both working and personal. He was another oddity that twelve year old Mason wouldn’t have been able to comprehend as part of his future. “He chased bartenders half his age and I reminded him of his Freudian slips and tendency to overindulge when it came to liquor. In return, he reminded me that I’m not nearly as old as I feel sometimes and coerced me into overindulging myself. It was a good vacation all in all, I’m going to tell you again that you really should consider taking one yourself one of these days, it’s a good mental break from the normal stressors in your life.” While he didn’t doubt the sincerity of the words, he did doubt the accuracy, considering that his stressors seemed to follow him regardless of where he was located at the time. Although maybe that was just a difference in personality.

  It didn’t really matter, he’d barely put his coffee down again before Dr. Friedrich’s expression shifted, his body leaning slightly forward and the clasping of his hands in front of him indicating that he was ready to begin discussing other things already. He had his tells, even if he wasn’t nearly as consciously aware of them as Mason was. “You’ve been quiet so far, and you initiated small talk.” Ah yes, there it was, Dr. Friedrich’s business smile following his inferred observations. “Is this still about Nicole and her, not quite so new, boyfriend?” He didn’t seem concerned with it at least, only curious, his shoulders rounding down to Mason’s answering shrug.

  Not quite so new, yes. He’d only had that discussion with her concerning the boy a month ago and since then things had progressed much further than he was comfortable with thinking about, much less verbally acknowledging. But then that was the entire point of these sessions, breaking through that which he tended to think was pointless to actually discuss, even when he was right about it. Another half shrug and roll of his eyes and he fully sat the coffee cup down, preparing to actually talk about it. Him. Her. The ‘relationship’.

  “I’m aware that my opinion comes across as colored to you, given my own feelings concerning Nicole.” The one body that actually knew about them, nodding along with him in what could have just been encouragement to keep him talking or agreement, and to be fair he didn’t much care which it was regardless. “However, I am aware those sentiments aren’t returned, and I am fully aware, as we’ve discussed off and on for years now, that I need to put them to rest and find a better way to cope with dismissing them.” Like actually doing so instead of just being told by the one person alive aware of them that they were unhealthy and he needed to do so. He was aware. He acknowledged it, even if his tone was dry delivering what sounded like it could have been a memorized speech, and by this point in their sessions very likely was.

  “I’m aware. However, this guy is ...weird,” he continued, pausing only because he was at a loss for a better descriptor. Calling him a creep would only add to the illusion that it dealt with his personal feelings concerning Nicole rather than the boy’s actual temperament. “I finally met him the week before last, and despite Nicole’s assertions that we would get along,” which he knew when she had said them would be false, even if they were for different reasons that he had imagined them to be, “there’s something… off about him.” Not quite right, something hovering just under that surface of feigned good-will and charming exterior that he presented at all times. Like a con artist waiting to strike, although the longer it stretched the more it seemed he was in it for the long-con. “There’s something wrong with him, just beneath the surface. He presents well. He’s well educated,” a grudging admittance even within his own head. “He’s charming, but almost too charming- and he’s unbalanced. I don’t know to what extent, I just know that he is.”

  He could read it off of him, like some kind of subconscious recognition that had been beaten into most children from backgrounds similar to his. His smiles were contrived, and when they weren’t they were inappropriate in motivation. A cruel sense of humor was one thing, but aimed in the manner that it was, and as deeply disguised as it was, there was nothing good or even neutral that could come of it.

  “Are you sure,” Dr. Friedrich was choosing his words carefully, biting over them as if he were examining each one for subtext or meaning that could be mistaken before continuing, “that you aren’t just placing these qualities onto him, projecting them if you will? Because you want to be him. Or rather, because you want to be in the position that he is in with Nicole? Relationship and emotional wise.” It was a fair question, and one that after all of the work and self exploration that they had done in this very room over the years he had been forced to ask himself. In part, yes, he would never have liked the boy that won her affections. He had never liked any of the boys that she had brought home, or even the ones she mentioned casually in passing as finding attractive or wanting to get to know better. However, this one was different. This one was worse. Worse, even than those who had been attempting to con her out of only the physical aspect of a relationship. Those had been easy to dismiss from her life- scaring them off as he had hadn’t proven to be any sort of difficult for him. All it had taken was a well-placed word, a visit kept secret from Nicole, and generally, they backed off or disappeared.

  “I did consider that,” Mason acknowledged, choosing his own words more carefully for the territory they were stepping into. “However, it isn’t just my dislike of him, but the relationship as a whole.” The subtexts within it, the gradual changes that were beginning to take place both in it and within Nicole herself. “She asks his permission before she does nearly anything, including the haircut she had been wanting to get last week. The moment he told her not to do it, and in those terms exactly, she dropped the discussion entirely and didn’t bring it up again.” Which wasn’t healthy, even in a normal, functional relationship. “Over the past month he’s integrated himself into nearly every aspect of her life,” above and beyond even what was typically considered normal for relationships in their age range. “He texts her to check up on her when she isn’t with him and asks her for proof that she is where she says she is.” He had even gone so far as to request her download a tracking app onto her phone, and had she actually had the money to pay for the one he was requesting Nicole more than likely would have done so.

  “He shows up unannounced but doesn’t allow her to do the same, he tracks her spending…” It was all little things, and some of them incongruous, but added together�
�� Mason recognized the signs, he grew up with a man who had slowly introduced very similar rules that at first seemed normal and only progressively became more and more constrictive and abusive. It was the only excuse he was giving the Carter’s, their lack of familiarity with such things in their personal life, to be missing what they were with their daughter. “Nicole is… withdrawn.” It hurt to even say, to find any word that would fit better in the frame of what he was trying to explain, but he couldn’t.

  She didn’t have impromptu dance sessions in the kitchen that he lied and told her were annoying. She didn’t call him at the odd hours she used to in order to ask random questions or even just to update him on her life. She went to school and she saw Aaron. She talked about Aaron and occasionally about their future plans. She didn’t talk about those things that she had been so absolutely passionate about in the months previous, she certainly didn’t bring up anything political or even anything that might have been slightly controversial for her to have an opinion on… “She’s folding,” Mason admitted, his fingers picking that coffee cup up and downing the remnants of what had been left within it.

  “Those are concerning details if you’re viewing it right,” his words weren’t condescending as almost anyone else uttering such a sentence would have come across, and Mason appreciated that much at least. “They’re definitely things that I would encourage you to look into and think further on, if not talk to either of the elder Carter's about to see if they’ve noticed such signs as well.” Which the both of them knew that they hadn’t or else they would have had Nicole in here in a heartbeat and the idiotic boy banned from the premises of their home entirely. “They’re definitely things that I want to touch more on next week, but unfortunately, as you know I do half-sessions after returning from break just to touch base and we are at our limit. If I didn’t have another patient coming in directly after I’d just suggest you stay later… however.”

  Mason’s hand lifted to wave the last statement dismissively away. They had touched base, they’d discussed what it was they needed- he’d known what course of action it was Dr. Friedrich was likely to suggest and he wasn’t at all surprised by the actual concern coloring his tone. While Nicole may have been the one out of the house he’d been adopted into’s family that Dr. Friedrich knew the least, he was still fond of her in his own way. Part of which was probably colored by the fact that he spoke with all three of the others about her and was familiar with their affection, and even Mason’s own obsession. “It’s fine, I’ll be here next week.” Just as dismissive as the wave of his hand had been, now empty cup pushed across the desk and his body lifting from that familiar chair with ease.

  “You will think on those things, and what it is I suggested though, right?” He was double checking and it was just as unnecessary as his veiled apology to Mason had been.

  “Of course, and, as usual, if things with my own mental health progress past a point in which I feel I should be interacting with anyone I will call you first before making any rash decisions.” More monotone than usual, the sentence was definitely something being quoted from repetition and memory- having had to promise that same thing for so many years, and some of them multiple times a session. “I’m glad your vacation went well,” and he was, even if it didn’t truly personally affect him one way or another- hand half lifted in farewell as he exited the space with the same hurry with which he had entered it.

  Aaron was concerning, one way or another, there was no denying that, it was just a question now if anyone could or would see that as fact for themselves outside of him as well. Something that he imagined was going to take drastic changes coming about before happening. Which didn’t at all help with his comfort concerning the relationship, or Nicole’s wellbeing within it.

  Chapter Four

  “Oh damnit!” Her voice was too loud and carried too easily throughout the otherwise empty house. Smoke rolling from one room and into another in a thick fog that blanketed more of the house than it didn’t- and Nicole herself was jumping around from foot to foot, trying to wave her dish towel at the smoke alarm that thankfully hadn’t gone off yet. She opened the kitchen window to try and clear some of it before it actually did. She loved cooking and she was good at it, at least she was reasonably sure she was without being arrogant about it. But whenever she was too occupied with the thoughts in her head, or too emotionally strung out everything in the kitchen seemed to get away from her. From the egg she’d cracked over the counter earlier to the bacon, she’d nearly burnt on the stove top just now…she felt a mess.

  A harried mess, food sitting out all around the counter in various stages of disorder and preparation as she tried flitting from one section to the next. She just wanted to be calmer, she wanted to have already gotten the call from Aaron letting her know that everything was all right and that he’d received her four apologetic voicemails… she hadn’t meant to accuse him of… anything, or make him feel threatened like she had. It hadn’t even been in her intentions to do anything other than draw attention to the fact that what he was saying didn’t make sense…

  Of course, she should’ve known, he was in a bad mood already, he had already been dealing with enough that dealing with her dramatics on top of it was sure to send anyone over the edge. Which is what she’d been able to tell herself the minute his truck passenger door had slammed behind her and he’d sped off. He hadn’t meant to grab her like he had, he hadn’t even realized that he was touching her at all, she knew it, by the way his face was contorted. He’d just forgotten that she was a little more fragile than he was, a little paler and with smaller bones…

  The slam of the front door nearly unbalanced her completely, body swaying from one side to the other in order to regain her balance and nearly throwing the dish towel at Mason’s head when it was he came around the corner. “Take this!” Hurried, even if she was trying to inject humor into it as well. “And you fan the alarm before I burn all of dinner and we have to order pizza!” Not that pizza sounded bad, it was only that she’d been specifically trying to make the alfredo dish that Mason had said he liked so much last time she made it. Shamelessly currying for favor so that maybe, this time, when she brought up Aaron he would be willing to listen, and possibly even give her advice on how to not make such an idiotic blunder like she had earlier that evening.

  “Hello to you too,” he didn’t sound mad at least, or seem particularly put out by having laundry thrown at him and instructed to handle the burgeoning problem that could be a smoke alarm going off. If anything he seemed more relaxed at least since the last time she’d seen him, but then he was supposed to have had therapy today. And if the session went well, like it seemed like it had, then it would only make him all the more likely to be able to ply with good food and possibly achieve an actual conversation. “Are you smoking out the house for any particular reason?”

  “Ha, ha, ha.” Her return was hurried, but the grin she threw him over her shoulder attempted to make up for that, body spinning about to try and get the broccoli into the pot before the water boiled over and made the kitchen even more of a disaster zone than it was already. “Don’t be rude, I’m making your dinner.” And probably breakfast and lunch for the next day too, with the portions that she had somehow managed to start cooking. She’d meant to only make enough for the two of them but somehow the ingredients had gotten away from her.

  “What are you making?” He should’ve sounded more interested really, or at least more like he cared, instead of just glancing around the scene of her destruction with a half lifted brow and a bored expression. He could show any amount of enthusiasm actually, even if she had been making nothing other than pot ramen, it would still have been something she was doing for him. Rude. Why was he so rude? “That alfredo thing you like,” shorter in tone than she should have been probably, because of his lack of disinterest, and the way his gaze cut to her so intensely and without warning made her instantly uncomfortable. Searching, those blue eyes, piercing her as if they could pull the
secrets from her very brain without her ever having to open her mouth. She hated when he did that, it flushed her cheeks in a way that was not at all comfortable and forced her to look away every time. He knew, had to know, that she was buttering him up, and that meant that he was going to assume it was about Aaron… and meant that he was going to be much less likely to allow her to gently introduce that conversation when she’d been wanting to.

  “Are you apologizing for something or just betting that therapy sucked today?” Caught her attention quickly enough though, chin swiveling back in his direction with a worried glance. He had seemed more relaxed… but if therapy went badly… not that she really had to wait very long, his eyes dragging over her expression and shaking his head minutely within only a matter of seconds. “No, it didn’t, actually. It was fine.” Which was about as much reassurance as she could expect from him. The tight ball of anxiety that had begun building in her chest loosened somewhat.

  “Oh, good!” Overly perky, spinning back away from him again to try and cover the fact. “I’m glad. I was hoping you seemed more relaxed.” And her foot was right back in her mouth again, cringing somewhat the minute she managed to get the words out and trying to cover her discomfort and guilt by adding more oil to the cooking noodles.

  “I would need to be more relaxed for…?” Oh shit, why couldn’t he just give her a break? Her day had been horrid, she’d already blundered about enough, and if she wasn’t careful, she was going to destroy their dinner, passing that hot pad she had put on her hand back and forth to try and juggle the tray of now cooked chicken without burning herself in the process. “If it’s another B Nic, you’re going to have to field that one yourself this time, it isn’t the end of the world.” From suspicious to condescending, they were already off to a bad start and she could feel herself getting overly defensive with each word, the tray hitting the counter a little too loudly and the mit pulled off of her hand in an aggravated motion.