by Bella Grant
I rolled to dodge the next attack, but she was suddenly on top of me, her Pikachu causing damage before I could get Link away. First life down and one more left.
“Maybe,” I admitted, “Is it working?”
Link flipped through the air and away from her Pikachu, but she caught up and wasted no time in engaging me in a full-on melee attack. In the middle of a swordsman and a Pokémon’s battle, I managed to dodge the next attack but didn’t see the bomb her Pikachu had thrown in my direction until the last second. I rolled Link carelessly off the platform, killing his last life and announcing her as the winner.
“Maybe.” She smirked and dropped the controller on the couch, stretching her long limbs. I had a hard time not noticing her elongated body and stood up to stretch myself to focus on something else.
“Well, if video games make you feel comfortable around me, then video games can be a part of our sessions.”
She scoffed playfully. “How old do I look to you? I mean, I may be younger than you, but I think I can manage without the video games.” Her eyes did not match her words, though, as they searched the screen for her stats of the final round between us.
“Right. Well, in that case, we can do the same boring routine where I ask you questions and you mumble responses. That always works.” I found myself blurting out something I would never say to a client, yet something about Fiona caused me to remove my professional hat, and she seemed to have acknowledged it as well.
“Fine,” she said simply and walked to the door. “Just make sure next time, you actually try and beat me. It’s boring when a guy lets a girl win,” she added before turning the doorknob.
I scoffed. “Letting you win? Please. I tried my hardest. You use your down B skill way too much. There are other buttons, you know.”
The orderly I had sent for appeared in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. “Everything okay in here?” he asked and glanced at the TV that displayed my defeat.
“Just fine, Blaine. Please make sure Miss Fiona has lunch. Doctor’s order to double it,” I told the bulky man who simply nodded.
“Sure thing.”
“Looking forward to kicking your ass again tomorrow, Doctor.” Fiona smirked and they left me standing there with a stupid grin on my face.
She was beautiful and into video games too? Why was my suicide survivor slowly becoming the woman of my dreams?
I shook my head. What was more important was getting her to trust me, to work with me to help her recover. I couldn’t let my personal feelings get in the way of my work, especially when such feelings could get me fired on the spot. My job was my life, and I couldn’t allow my lack of a love life get in a way of it. Even if her confident smirks and body stretches did nothing to help the situation. I couldn’t be distracted by her.
I sighed. I never had such intense feelings for a client before, let alone a woman. My past relationships paled by comparison, which was ridiculous. I barely knew Fiona, and already, she lit up my world unlike any other had. I was acting like a hormonal teenager and needed to nip it in the bud.
My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on my door. My next client had arrived and I had work to do. Shutting the game off, I smiled to myself, knowing I had found my way to the core of Fiona Sims. I felt proud of myself, even if it was just a dent in the long run.
Chapter 6
“You own a Sega Genesis too?”
The way his eyes brightened up along with the question made me blush and giggle all at once. Like I was in high school again, recalling the memory of one particular lunch with my group of friends.
“Wait, you play Halo?” My friend Zack questioned me, his fork aimed at me in disbelief.
I felt my cheeks redden under his sudden attention after Lisa had blurted my recent activities. “Y-yeah,” I stammered, and Lisa smacked my back in response.
“Don’t be shy about it. Tell them about the recent gaming contest you entered,” she coaxed me, and Zack wasn’t the only guy now tuning in. His friends around him leaned in as I continued.
“I won,” I answered meekly but looked Zack straight in the eye.
They didn’t believe me until I gave them my gamer tag and beat them later that night in a quick round. They couldn’t even look at me the same way after that. Something about gamer girls really did it for them, and I had earned their highest respect.
I nodded to Dr. Sullivan after the memory evaporated. “Yeah, I found it at a second-hand shop where I used to do volunteer work from time to time. The price was low so I took it, even though they offered to give it to me for free after all the help I did around there.”
There was that phrase—used to—coming out of my mouth again. That phrase popped up all over the place and it was only our fourth session together. It never bothered me to say it for the last nine months, but now I was in front of Dr. Sullivan, and it was irritating when it did come out. I yearned to be more than just ‘I used to’ in his eyes and it was a new feeling for me.
I cleared my throat and crossed my jeans-clad legs. “I used to do a lot of things,” I confessed, and his face grew serious. I saw how his hand twitched, wanting to write on the empty pad of paper next to him. I admired him for it. He would try so hard not to be the typical shrink, the ones who barely looked at their clients while they scribbled furiously across their paper pads.
Dr. Sullivan locked eyes with me the moment I sat down. Some would say it was intimidating, but I found it…endearing. The eye contact was his way of saying he was all ears and was listening to anything and everything I had to say. Even if it didn’t necessarily pertain to the reason I was in his office in the first place. Or if I didn’t say much, he was still listening.
I decided to throw him a bone. “You know, you might want to start writing down what I’m saying here. I’m about to say something important,” I announced, feeling self-important. I watched as he tilted his head, his eyes softening.
“Of course, Fiona. I didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable,” he replied, and the pad of paper appeared in his lap. “Please, continue.”
I inhaled a big breath. “Well, for starters, when I was younger, I used to enter gaming competitions. Halo, Call of Duty, Smash Brothers—you name it, I entered it for the sake of charity,” I recalled. Fond memories floated up in my mind, making my head feel light. A smile formed on my face as I thought about the many times I had won. The look on all the teenage boys’ faces when I stood up on the podium, above them all, was priceless. Even better, when I announced all my winnings would go to local homeless shelters, their jaws would drop to the floor. Not only had a girl beaten them at their own game, but she also wasn’t about buying the latest and greatest games with her winnings.
“For the sake of charity?” he asked, glancing up from the pad.
“Yup. Any money I won, I donated to multiple charities. I guess you could say it was the driving force behind my need to win. Well, that and the look on all my male competitors’ faces when I did beat them.”
My response earned me a smirk from the doctor, and I noticed his smiles were all crooked and pretty damn adorable.
“I see. So would you say you played video games in your spare time to simply improve your skills? To win more competitions for the sake of humanity?” he asked next.
“No.” I answered right away. “It was definitely a perk and made me feel better about all the time I spent playing the games. I thoroughly enjoyed playing video games. I just happened to come across a local contest flyer on my walk to the community garden one day and the rest was history. It felt great to use my winnings for the greater good and the look on my father’s face when I came home with a gold medal around my neck added to my high. I think he enjoyed the thought of his daughter beating the boys for first place. More than I ever did, anyway.” I laughed, catching myself in a big grin, recalling the memory of my father.
Dr. Sullivan noticed it too but didn’t comment on it. Instead, we both grew quiet, and my laughter died. I wasn’t ready to talk abo
ut the main reason behind my depression. I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready, but the fact that he didn’t press me caused me immense relief.
“Have you ever competed before, Dr. Sullivan?” I asked as I withdrew from the fond yet painful memory. The tears in my eyes blurred my vision, and I hoped he would catch the hint and steer the attention away from me.
He shifted and crossed his own legs. “No, I didn’t have the time to do so. Medical school took over my life as soon as I graduated high school, so video games became more of an outlet for me—a means of escaping reality for a bit. To escape all the homework on my desk and let all the information I was absorbing soak in. Something about owning noobs really helped put my mind at ease before bed.”
I pondered what he said and it dawned on me. “You know, I never thought about it until now, but video games were an outlet for me, too. It was the one thing I did for myself before I came across the contest. Every other after-school activity I was involved in was for others. Video games challenged me to focus on improving myself, even if the stats didn’t mean anything in real life. They meant something to me,” I confessed.
He remained silent, and I could hear his pen scratch across the paper. He glanced at me to see if I were done speaking before he responded. I decided to continue. “Can I ask you something personal, Dr. Sullivan?”
That got his full attention. “Sure thing, Fiona. What is it?”
I met his gaze. “If you barely had any time for video games, how did you have time for, ya know, friends, or more importantly, a girlfriend?”
He was caught off-guard, and I enjoyed the look on his face changing as he cleared his throat, trying to keep his composure.
“Well, I do admit, it’s not easy having a social life when your time is dedicated to your schooling and work, but I managed through college. I even went on a date here or there. Honestly, medical school didn’t allow much time for things like that for me.”
My mind was caught on the middle of his response. “You mentioned only through college. Does that mean you’re not seeing anyone now?” I was being nosy, yet for some reason, I needed to know if he was single. The knowledge helped me keep my mind off other far more depressing things that I didn’t want to discuss just quite yet.
He sighed and ran a hand through his unkempt locks. He seemed to do that when he was nervous and looking for the right words to say. I picked up on his mannerisms right away with all the time I’d spent in his office in four days.
“Fiona, I don’t think my personal life is going to help your situation,” he said uneasily.
“Sure it is. I mean, if you tell me, I’ll tell you.” I winked and folded my arms, waiting for his response. I enjoyed making him uneasy. Something about doing it made him more human and less of a doctor in my eyes. It also provided for a more fun conversation.
He sighed once more and leaned back in his office chair. “Fine, but you have to keep up your end of the bargain or I’ll cancel our Smash Brothers rounds for tomorrow’s session.”
Oh, he definitely did know how to keep me in check. I nodded in response, encouraging him to go on. He looked around as if to make sure no one could hear him, even though it was just the two of us in the room. I had to stifle the laugh from watching him do so.
“No, I’m currently not seeing anyone. Kind of makes it hard to find someone when I’m practically in a relationship with my job. Though my lack of making it home to go out before the bars close doesn’t exactly help either,” he admitted. “Now, it’s your turn. Is there anyone waiting for you on the outside?”
I let the laugh out. “You make it sound like I’m in a jail cell and being held against my will.”
“Well, some patients see it that way. Not everyone is willing to admit they’re here for a reason. Plus” —he cracked a smile and leaned on his desk— “I wanted to make you laugh. Break the tension, ya know?”
I laughed harder, allowing my arms to unfold. “Believe me, Dr. Sullivan, there is no tension for me because I can honestly say I have no dating life whatsoever. It’s quite pathetic, really.” I continued to laugh, my heart feeling lighter already.
“A beautiful girl like you? And better yet, one who owns at video games? How is that even possible?” I caught the astonishment in his voice, along with something else. Was that relief? Wait, did he call me beautiful?
“Well, I’m sure it doesn’t help that I also don’t go out enough, even at my age. Though I guess I never wanted a boyfriend. They seemed to get in the way when I did have one. Now though…” The honesty caught in my throat and I had a tough time coming up with the next sentence.
“Now what, Fiona?” he urged me with his soft, soothing voice—one I’m sure he reserved for his more sensitive patients. Weaker patients. Something about the thought caused me to shake my head violently in protest.
“Nothing, just forget it.” I hadn’t meant for it to happen, but I could feel it. My defenses were building back up in the middle of our conversation, an invisible, thick wall now in place. I still wasn’t ready to open up.
He shifted back in his seat. “Fiona, I apologize if I made you uncomfortable. I—”
“You didn’t. I did.” I held his gaze until my eyes burned to release the tears building up. Then I looked away.
“Doctor, have you ever felt alone? So alone you’d give anything for someone to just…just hold you while you cried yourself to sleep? I never used to want companionship. My focus was on what I could do to help others but now…now—” I choked on my tears and snapped my head back up. “Now, I want nothing more than for someone to be there for me. Hold me. Stroke my hair. Tell me everything is going to be okay, just like my mother used to. Tell me, does that make me weak, Doctor? Because I don’t know how to handle being weak. I don’t know how to be there for myself.” I wrapped my arms around myself.
The dam had broken. I used my sleeve to wipe away the fresh, hot tears. Dr. Sullivan handed me the tissue box on his desk and sat next to me as I blew my nose. Then I got a whiff of his scent and the smell of mint soap and hand sanitizer invaded my nose. The smell of comfort as I remembered watching my mother squirt hand sanitizer on her hands before we walked into the grocery store. She always carried a small bottle of it in her purse and rubbed her hands with it, no matter where we went. Better to be safe than sorry, she used to tell me.
His smell alone made me cry harder, and I felt the couch shift next to me before I was pulled into something warm and strong. The smell of mint soap grew stronger, and when I opened my eyes, I found myself crying into the white lab coat of my psychiatrist, his strong arms around me, inviting me to stay in his embrace.
In any other situation, I’m sure this would have looked wrong to an outsider, a doctor holding his patient. To me, it was exactly what I needed to let go of all the tension and tears I was holding in and Dr. Sullivan, out of all people, recognized my need right away. My need to let someone hold me who didn’t look at me with pity like so many had done in the last months following the accident.
Even an ex-boyfriend had tried to push himself back into the picture. I had let him, enjoying the way he’d held me when I cried, but he had a secret agenda I wished to be no part of. And so, since I wouldn't let him have his way and take my virginity—something he knew I was holding for the right person—I let him go.
“Fiona, listen to me.” Dr. Sullivan’s low voice dissipated the past as his hand stroked my hair. “Don’t ever call yourself weak, do you hear me?” I nodded meekly, more tears wetting the scratchy fabric of his coat. “Because weak is a definition that doesn’t even belong in your life, Fiona. You’re stronger than you’ll ever know. Trust me on this, okay? I’ve seen it all in here, and weak is not you.”
I was at a loss for words as I clung to his coat, hoping it wasn’t time to go. Hoping he would hold me a little longer. “Okay, Dr. Sullivan,” I managed to get out somewhere between my silent sobs and hiccupping breaths.
“Please, call me Josh.”
Chapter 7
I didn’t dare move for the longest time and even hesitated to shift under her weight to get to my office phone. For the first time in my entire career, I did something rash and called Vickie, asking her to cancel the rest of my afternoon appointments.
She was as shocked as I was when I made my request. “Are you all right, Dr. Sullivan? Are you going home?” Her voice sounded nervous and unsure.
“No. I’m spending the afternoon in my office. I have a very serious case I’m working on and need to clear my head. Please offer my patients early-morning slots. I’ll be here as early as 6 a.m. if needed,” I explained.
“Of course, Dr. Sullivan. I’ll send the nurses out today with the memo. Let me know if you need anything in there,” she offered, and I could sense the panic in her voice. This was a first for her too.
“I’m all set. As a matter of fact, why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off once you send out the memo? Surely your kids will love it if their mom picked them up from school today, don’t ya think?”
I heard the smile on her face when she gasped in surprise. “Dr. Sullivan, they would love that. Thank you, I’ll see you tomorrow, then, at 6 a.m.”
“Just come in at your usual time, Vickie. I can have the orderlies bring them in, and I can take care of the paperwork until you get here. Tell the kids I said hello, okay?”