BABY ROYAL

by Bella Grant

  “Well, that’s a good thing. I want you to feel comfortable in this space. Think of it as a blank space for both of us to create your next steps together. I also would like to say I’m glad you are comfortable enough with me to share this space with you.”

  “Well, I mean, it’s your office so it’s not like I have a choice,” I scoffed playfully.

  “You do though. You could’ve asked for a transfer to another psychiatrist or could have asked for a seventy-two-hour observation period.”

  I crossed my arms and raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  Josh chuckled. “Yes. If you ever felt uncomfortable with me, we could have done one of the two options if you would have preferred.”

  I waved my hand dismissively. “Are you kidding me? It took a whole week just to even mention a few bad memories and that was after you brought out a passion of mine. If anything, that would have just brought me three giant steps backwards and that’s not why I’m here. Besides,” my voice dropped a few notches, “I wouldn’t be comfortable with another shrink like how I am with you.”

  I waited for the weight of what I admitted to reach him, for him to understand just how much effort it took me to even speak to him when I heard another soft chuckle come out of his mouth.

  “Well, it wouldn’t have been easy letting you go anyways so you don’t have to worry about that,” he said quietly and nothing more.

  “What do you mean by that?” I challenged him, curious where this would lead us.

  He held my gaze as he clicked the pen in his hand—another one of his habits when he sorted out what to say. “What I mean is that I care a lot about you, Fiona.” His voice was low and serious.

  I continued to smirk though my heartbeat quickened. “You’re paid to say those kinds of things, Dr. Sullivan. You care about all your patients, I’m sure.”

  “No, Fiona. It’s more than that. I care about you as more than my patient. I hope you understand what I’m trying to say,” he said carefully, watching me for a response.

  I bit my lip. Maybe he was telling the truth. Was that why he was so different from the rest of them?

  “Josh, I…”

  “Dr. Sullivan, your next patient is here,” Vickie’s voice chirped through the phone’s intercom, cutting me off.

  Josh stood up and held his hand out for me to shake. “Here’s to the next week then? I look forward to continuing working with you, Ms. Sims.”

  I was caught off-guard by his suddenly professional tone of voice, even addressing me formally and indicating the conversation was over before it could even begin. I watched as Josh stepped away and Dr. Sullivan stepped into his place. I took his hand, nonetheless, and gave him a coy smile so he knew this conversation was not over in the slightest.

  “Same here, Dr. Sullivan.”

  Blaine was at the door, ready to escort me back to my room, and I had to admit I did let the handshake linger long enough to feel Josh’s reassuring squeeze. A silent ‘to be continued.’

  Once I was sitting on my own bed, I slipped off my clothes and got into my PJs. My roommate, who showed up a day after I did, was in her own therapy session, so I was alone until dinner. A nap would get my mind off Josh, so I lay down on my crisp sheets and scratchy beige blanket. I closed my eyes and tried to think about something—anything—other than his tousled brown hair and blue eyes. Or the way he smiled at me, displaying his one dimple on the right side. How strong his arms felt around me. How large his hands were next to mine. The stubble on his cheeks when he forgot to shave. How he talked, laughed, and moved about the room. The way he said he cared about me.

  Sighing, I opened my eyes, admitting defeat to my restless mind. Did he really mean what he said about caring about me above a patient level? And what did I think about his confession? Was I okay with it?

  I must have been since I couldn’t stop thinking about him as more than my psychiatrist. I wondered what he was like outside the hospital walls. What was he like on dates? Was he the gentleman type who opened doors and pulled out seats? Or was he the loud, goofy type who would do anything to make a girl laugh? Imagining him anywhere but in his office was difficult, and from the sound of it, he didn’t go out much anyways.

  Still, he seemed more like the laid-back type who would try to hide his nervousness. We would probably go to his place after dinner, playing video games or chatting until the wee hours of the morning. Then he would finally have the guts to kiss me.

  Smiling, I realized I was okay with the progression of our relationship. He surely was the nicest guy I had ever met, not to mention how he had treated me better than any of my previous boyfriends. Most guys were curious about my money. How I was able to run such big charity funds in such short time. One guy even suggested maybe I should drop the whole dream of owning my own non-profit and focus on living more for myself, which apparently meant him going out and getting wasted every night and for me to tag along. I kicked him to the curb not long afterwards.

  But Josh? He was different. Yet I was constantly reminding myself he was paid to be different. That was something I wasn’t sure how to get over. Was it all merely a part of the job? Or had he tried to say something more back there?

  I care about you as more than a patient.

  Closing my eyes once more, I made the promise to myself that the next day, I would find out exactly what he meant by those words. No matter what it took, I would get to bottom of not only his feelings but also my own.

  Chapter 9

  The sun shone straight through my office window, leaving a glare on the TV screen in the middle of our Player vs Player Halo match. Today, I had brought in my Xbox One to change up the games played, but Mother Nature demanded our attention. Or at least hers after my second sniper shot at her Spartan sent her flying right off a cliff. Beside me, Fiona huffed in frustration.

  “Ugh! That’s not fair! I can’t even see where I am with the damn glare on the screen. Can you shut the blinds or something?” she said without even trying to hide the irritation in her voice.

  Fiona was in rare form, and I could almost see the tension rolling off her body. She had been on edge since she stepped into my office, her focus immediately on the new console. I didn’t try to fight her when she asked if we could go right into gaming. Given her determined mood, I had a feeling it had something to do with my confession to her yesterday, which left us both a little frazzled. I didn’t mean for it to slip out and she didn’t get a chance to respond. We were in limbo of what should and shouldn’t be and I was more than prepared for whatever blow up would come my way. So far, she hadn’t mentioned it.

  Instead, she waltzed into my office, demanding we play a match of Halo before we began. Twenty minutes later, we were still at it. I knew we would get nowhere if we kept it up. An idea came to mind, thanks to the sunshine.

  “Two out of three,” she stated, but I had already pressed the main button to shut down the console, earning me another huff.

  “How about I show you something new today. Outside of my office,” I suggested. She looked quizzically at me. “There’s some gardens in the back that are open to well-behaved patients to stroll through. I think you’re safe enough to be out in the sun, how about you?”

  She looked down at the controller in her hand and ran her thumb over the buttons. “Yeah, I guess I would like that,” she mumbled and put it down slowly.

  “Me too.” I smiled and got up to let Vickie know I was taking our session outside and would have my cell in case anyone needed me.

  This was my best chance to get Fiona to spit out whatever was on her mind and if it regarded me or not. If a change of scenery didn’t do the trick, I would simply drop what I had said yesterday and wouldn’t pursue the topic any further. Selfishly, though, I hoped the flowers would do the talking for me. Or for her.

  “I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen the sun,” she stated, tilting her head towards the sky and basking in the warmth.

  We walked slowly through the hospital gardens,
which were in the shape of a large square with a smaller square nestled inside it. Sidewalks encased the larger one with little woodchip pathways that led to the smaller one, and a few benches were placed here and there. It had been planted in honor of a doctor who’d passed about six years ago, Dr. Kyle Murdock—a great man who had founded quite a few of the mechanics of how the hospital worked with its patients today. The gardens were dubbed Murdock Meadows and had flowers of all shapes and colors that bloomed beautifully every year. A baby willow tree was starting to take shape and hovered gently over the middle of it all.

  “These gardens are probably my favorite thing about this whole place. Though I don’t get to experience them as much as I would like to these days.” I finished explaining the history of the garden. She had listened keenly as we meandered to a bench in the middle to which had the best views of the growing, wispy tree.

  “They did a great job with such a small space,” she commented as she sat down and crossed her legs, her long, coral-colored skirt moving about. Lisa must have dropped off more clothes on visitor’s day because Fiona’s clothes had evolved from jeans and hoodies to more weather-appropriate clothes. Like the thin, white tee and denim jacket matching her skirt. Her hair was even done, too, in a neat side braid. She gave the flowers a run for their money, and it got harder not to simply gawk at her or touch her.

  “Yeah, they really did,” I responded as I sat next to her, folding my hands in front of me. “I apologize for not bringing you out here sooner. I know the hospital walls can feel like they’re closing in on you sometimes. When you spend as much time as I have surrounded by them, I get that, believe me. I keep saying we should spiff the place up with colored walls or paintings or something. Shit, even flowers in the patient’s room would help brighten the place. My suggestions are still pending, and that was almost six months ago,” I went on, hoping to fill the awkward silences.

  She laughed as if she knew what I was doing and rested a hand on my knee, sending shivers up my leg.

  “It’s okay. I wouldn’t have been ready for this a week ago. I appreciate you bringing me out here today. It feels good to be outside. I forgot what it felt like to sweat under the sun,” she joked and took her hand away to stretch her limbs. I fought the urge to grab her hand and hold it with my own on my knee.

  “Well, it feels good for me to be out here too. I know it’s not a Halo field and we’re supposed to be starting our therapy session, but I’m happy to sit here and enjoy the flowers with you,” I admitted calmly and put my hands behind my head, leaning back to stretch my back on the bench. Anything to keep my hands to myself.

  I did make the mistake of looking over at her and time stood still, my eyes honed in on every detail and movement. She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and stared down at her lap. The pink dusting of cute cheeks had my breath caught in my throat. She was blushing, and I had the impression I was the cause of it. She peeked at me and caught me looking at her, and I wanted nothing more than to blurt out how fucking cute she was. She probably didn't even know it. Or she did and her confidence made her so much cuter. Either way, it got harder to keep my mouth shut as I constantly reminded myself why I shouldn’t tell her, touch her, or pull her in for a heated kiss like I so desperately wanted to.

  Yet the way she refused to meet my eye for longer than a second halted the war in my head. Something was wrong. I knew the second she walked into my office. She was a ticking time bomb, and I couldn’t wait any longer to find out when she would go off.

  “Fiona, you seem on edge today. As your doctor, I need to ask—is everything all right?” I put my arms back down, my hands itching to hold hers. A single tear slid down her inflamed cheek, and I saw the plea before she could wipe it away with her hand and shook her head.

  “It’s nothing, I’m fine.” She brushed it off, but I wasn’t stupid. I might never have been in a relationship long enough to know, but I had made the mistake in the past of waving it off when a female client stated she was ‘fine’ and it was ‘nothing.’

  “I call bullshit,” I declared.

  She snapped her head up to look at me with a startled expression on her face. “Excuse me?”

  “I said I call bullshit.” I repeated myself and ran a hand through my hair, pulling at it lightly. Here goes nothing. “Look, Fiona, we can do this the hard way or we can do this the easy way, where you tell me what’s going on. If this is about yesterday, I wasn’t lying when I told you I really care about you. I want to help you, not just as your doctor, but as…a friend.” Or something more than that. “And I am very serious. So, this is my last time asking, Fiona…are you okay?” I enunciated the last three words slowly, my eyes boring holes into hers.

  I couldn’t worry about chasing her away anymore. Or that she could clam right up. I had been cautious around her—tiptoeing around her, attempting a different approach to prove I could have a successful female case. Then it became so much more. I didn’t care anymore about my ratio of successes and failures. I simply cared about Fiona and though my caring feelings were slipping into dangerous territory when it came to my job, I needed her to take me seriously, to give me the time of the day that she needed.

  I hoped it wasn’t too late to be more direct. Especially after she had just signed her extension papers. I was mentally prepared for her to tell me to fuck off and to clam right back up. Even if my approach did push us five feet backwards, I couldn’t hold back anymore. Our time together was lessening by the day and we needed to get to the problem.

  I waited for what seemed like hours as she tried to compose herself after my blunt outburst. More tears streamed down her face as she fiddled with her fingers in her lap. I was relieved to see her still sitting next to me and not storming off. It was a good sign.

  After a few more minutes, I opened my mouth to tell her our time together was almost up when she spoke.

  “Okay.” She finally met my gaze with a calm confidence I hadn’t seen all day.

  “Okay?” I repeated, making sure I knew exactly what she was saying okay to.

  “Okay, I’ll…tell you what’s wrong. Why I’m…not okay today.” She fumbled with the last few words, and I nodded. Her gaze shot back down, focused on her twisting fingers. The next time she looked at me, her eyes were glossy. “Today would have been my father’s birthday.”

  I was stunned. Not only did I feel like the world’s biggest asshole but also the world’s most selfish idiot. Where had I gotten off thinking she was on edge because of me and what I had told her yesterday? I was in too deep. I needed to take a step back and be what she needed me to be. Not all the things I wished to be in another situation as her shoulder to lean on, her confidant, her…boyfriend. I had been so absorbed in my own forbidden wants I had ignored all the signs that pointed to her hurting emotionally. And they called me Doctor of the Year. I wanted to throw my award at the wall. After this, I didn’t deserve such a title.

  She began crying and leaned into me, melting my inner scolding. I wrapped an arm around her and walked her back to my office, where I allowed her to cry in privacy before finding out my next patient had canceled due to having a panic attack and being sedated in her room.

  I took it as a sign that I needed to spend more time with Fiona. That we were right on the edge, and together, we would go over, hand in hand. Once she started to settle down, I found the courage to speak up.

  “If you don’t mind sharing, I’d love to hear more about your father.” I wasn’t sure where our conversation would end up or what she would respond with, but I was more than ready to listen.

  She nodded and closed her eyes as she gathered the strength to speak once more.

  “My father was my best friend. So was my mother. They were my whole world, as creepy as that sounds. We were so close. Just three peas in a pod. They were the push behind all my dreams. My number one fans behind everything I did. That changed nine months ago when” —she took a moment to breathe— “when my parents were killed in a car accident an
d left me behind.”

  Chapter 10

  I’d said it. It was out there, floating in the air between us. I waited for Josh’s response, but I could see he was waiting for me to continue. The dam had broken, and we both seemed unsure about where to go from there.

  “Do you want to…” he began.

  “My dad always asked to get ice cream on his birthday. He hated cake, said it was too dry. Not ice cream, though. So we’d take him to Ghirardelli Square every year to get ice cream and load up on chocolate. Then we’d sit near the water, sometimes wading in with our cones in our hands. I remember getting chocolate all over my fingers, one time, attempting to eat a square or two on the way home. I’d suck on my fingers ‘til they were clean and then go for another. Chocolate was the one thing I’ve ever been gluttonous about. My mom used to say I got my sweet tooth from her. That when she was pregnant with me, all she craved was Cocoa Puffs and graham crackers. Crunchy and sweet.” I smiled as the memories slowly filled my head space.

  Up to that point, I had ignored all memories that had anything to do with my parents, which meant most of them, which explained my depression. I couldn’t think of, walk by, do something, read, write, eat, anything, without thinking about them. Being their only child, they had poured so much time and love into me that when they left, a part of me left with them, leaving a huge hole in my heart.

  I explained this all out loud to Josh, piece by piece, until I finally got to the details of that night. I hadn’t told anyone the full details, not even Lisa or my extended family. I couldn’t. I wasn’t strong enough to relive it once more. Some family members understood, yet some didn’t. Some said they needed to know, and I couldn’t deliver, which made my depression worse.

  I was ready to reach deep down and give Josh exactly what he needed to know so he could help me. So I could move on. Though every time I even thought about the words ‘moving on,’ I would feel a drop settle in my stomach. I didn’t want to move on. I wasn’t ready to face the world without them. Even if I was twenty-one, I still had so much to learn from them.