Alexei

by Rothert, Brenda

  “Well, I was looking for a distraction, and now I’ve got one.” I smile weakly.

  “A distraction from what?” She pulls out a chair and sits down.

  “It’s hard to take you seriously with that green stuff all over your face.”

  “Don’t change the subject, Gravy.”

  I give in, tired of carrying the full weight of the truth alone.

  “That patient I’m attracted to—I can’t get my mind off him. I’ve been completely professional with him, everywhere but in my own imagination, but a woman from the group confronted me about him.”

  “Confronted you?” Amelia scrunches her clay-covered face as much as she can.

  “Yeah, she’s…a major manipulator. She told me the other day that she can see I have a crush on him and she’ll out me if I don’t let her graduate from the program.”

  “She sounds lovely.”

  “You have no idea.”

  “But you’ve been professional, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  I cringe. “Clearly I haven’t been as professional as I thought, or she wouldn’t know about my feelings. She says they’re written all over my face.”

  “You didn’t admit it to her, did you?”

  “No, I played it cool.”

  “Good, keep doing that. She has no concrete proof.”

  I sigh heavily. “I’m not really worried about getting in trouble. It’s more that I feel guilty. I should’ve sent him to another therapist as soon as these feelings started.”

  “You still could, right?” Amelia says.

  I think about it for a few seconds and shake my head. “Part of me wants to, but…I just can’t. I know I can help him. I just need to set aside my feelings for him and focus on his recovery. There’s so much on the line here; it’s a lot bigger than me thinking he’s sexy.”

  “Do you think you’re the only one who can help him?”

  I shrug, unable to meet her gaze. “That sounds really arrogant, doesn’t it?”

  “Well…a little.”

  “We’ve made progress. He’s starting to open up.”

  Amelia pats her clay mask, which is completely dry now and starting to crack. “I need to go rinse. Here’s my advice—keep doing what you’re doing. Rehab is hard, messy work. That chick needs a kick in the ass. Don’t let her mess with your head.”

  “You don’t think it’s unprofessional of me to keep treating a patient I’m attracted to?”

  Amelia smiles. “You’re not the first or the last therapist to find a patient attractive. What matters is whether you act on it while he’s your patient.”

  I nod. “Thanks for listening, it helps.”

  “Stop beating yourself up for being human.”

  Amelia heads for the bathroom, unwrapping the towel from her hair on the way. I get up and return to cleaning out the refrigerator.

  Immediately, my thoughts wander to what Alexei’s doing right now. I know there’s a journaling class at Beckett, but that’s probably not his scene. Yoga, maybe?

  I hope when we resume sessions on Monday, the awkwardness between us will have passed. I needed to put a wall in place, but I can’t tell him why.

  My desire to help him get and stay sober is stronger than ever, though. That needs to be my one and only focus when it comes to Alexei Petrov.

  12

  Alexei

  “Wanna bone?” Gia asks me with a sly smile.

  “Uh…”

  I glance around the Beckett dining hall, caught off guard.

  “Don’t worry, I’m on the pill.”

  “Oh, no, it’s…” I point in the direction of Graysen’s office. “My session starts in ten minutes.”

  “She can wait.” Gia shrugs and then narrows her eyes at me. “Come on, stop with the charade, Alexei. We both know you’re no choirboy rule follower.”

  I shrug back. “That’s true. But I break the rules when I want to. And right now I want to go to my session.”

  “Bullshit. Talking in circles with that frosty bitch can’t be more appealing than a blowjob.”

  Just hearing the word makes my cock twitch to life. I’ve never gone this long without sex. And after spending my days here in one-on-one therapy, group therapy and intensive physical therapy, I’m tired. But not too tired to jerk off. I usually do it as fast as possible while I’m in the shower just so I don’t have a boner all the time.

  In another time and place, I might have gone for Gia. Before rehab, attraction was all about the physical for me. But seeing Gia day in and day out, and getting to know how mean and shallow she is, I wonder what it says about me that I would’ve jumped into bed with her without thinking twice before.

  My whole life was hockey, booze and women. It felt exciting—like I was living the dream. But the thought of going back to the life I had before makes me feel empty right now.

  Staying sober is fucking hard. But when I look at myself in the bathroom mirror every morning now, I don’t have to wonder what I did the night before. I was walking a dangerous tightrope before rehab, but too drunk most of the time to realize it.

  I dismiss Gia with a shake of my head. “I’ve gotta go.”

  “Fuck you,” she says under her breath.

  I don’t look back at her as I make my way across the dining hall. I can see what Graysen is always trying to get Gia to acknowledge—she’s got an issue with sex.

  In group sessions, Graysen tells us people are prone to replacing one bad behavior—in my case, alcohol addiction—with another one. I don’t know if that’s why Gia’s so obsessed with getting me to fuck her, but I think it might be. Booze and sex are intertwined for me, and in Gia’s case, it’s drugs and sex.

  I haven’t figured out what good habit I want to replace drinking with. Graysen suggested I choose something that keeps my hands busy and occupies my mind. I suggested masturbation, and though she pretended not to be amused, I could tell she was.

  When I walk into Graysen’s office, she’s sitting at her desk writing something, biting her lower lip the way she does when she’s concentrating.

  Glancing up at me, she says, “Have a seat. I’ll be right there.”

  She sets her pen down and looks around her desk, lowering her brows in confusion.

  “They’re over here,” I say, pointing at her reading glasses, which are sitting on the small round table next to the chair she sits in during our sessions.

  “Oh.” A light pink flush floods her cheeks. “Thanks.”

  She walks over and sits down, grabbing the reading glasses and putting them on. Today she’s wearing dark gray leggings, a royal blue sweater dress and tall black boots. Her hair is down, curling wild and loose past her shoulders.

  “I want to continue with what we were doing in group yesterday,” she says, reading the notes on her legal pad.

  “I need to say something before we start.”

  She looks up at me. “What is it?”

  I take a deep breath and exhale hard, trying to remember how I decided to phrase this when I was lying in bed last night.

  “It’s hard for me to talk about some things,” I start. “I’ve always been that way. But with you…it’s different. I didn’t want to at first, but then…”

  “You’re making great progress here.” Her tight, formal smile is the only one I get from her anymore.

  “Yeah, it’s been good.” I shift in my seat, forgetting how I wanted to say any of this. “But something’s different with us the past few days, and I don’t like it.”

  “Maybe things feel different because you’re opening up more.”

  I scoff. “Bullshit. This new, walled-off version of you is complete bullshit.”

  Graysen softens. “Alexei, I should have been walled off the entire time. I have a job to do. And if I wasn’t completely professional before, I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

  Tears glisten in her eyes, and I feel like an asshole for upsetting her. I walk over to her chair and sit on the wood coffee table in
front of it, bringing us knee to knee and eye to eye.

  “You’ve been completely professional, and you know that. Something happened, and I’m in the dark over here. You know why that fucking sucks, don’t you?”

  She draws her knees back an inch so they aren’t touching mine anymore, her expression pained.

  “Alexei, I don’t—”

  “It sucks because I’ve opened up to you more than I ever have to anyone. None of this has been easy for me, but you make me think…maybe I can do this. And I don’t know if it was my blow up over Anton, or if I offended you somehow, but you’re not the same with me anymore. I don’t know how to open up to someone who won’t be open with me.”

  Graysen closes her eyes. “You didn’t do anything, Alexei.”

  I groan in frustration, putting my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. My knee brushes against Graysen’s and again, she moves away. I look up at her, suddenly panicked.

  “Have I made you feel uncomfortable? With something I’ve said or done?”

  She looks away. “Not at all.”

  “Graysen…fucking hell, will you just tell me? Whatever it is, you can trust me.”

  When her eyes find mine, I see pleading there. She’s silently debating whether or not to tell me. The moment is heavy, like something very important is hinging on what she decides.

  If she shuts me out again, I’ve got nothing left to say. I’ve pleaded my case more than once now, and I’m not gonna beg. But I meant what I said—I won’t keep opening my emotional veins and bleeding in front of Graysen if she doesn’t level with me about what’s changed between us.

  “Gia said something to me a few days ago.” She sighs, her shoulders sagging. “And it just—”

  “Gia?” I sit up straighter. “She said something about me? I swear to you, I haven’t done shit with her.”

  “No, not that, it’s…” Graysen’s blush deepens. “She thinks I’ve been unprofessional with you.”

  “Well, she’s wrong.”

  She gives me another pleading look. “She thinks I have feelings for you that are more than just doctor-patient.”

  “Fuck Gia.” I shake my head, disgusted. “She’d say anything to manipulate her way into getting what she wants.”

  Graysen’s eyes stay locked on mine as we sit in silence. Once again, I feel something big hanging in the balance, but I can’t put my finger on what it is.

  “She’s right,” Graysen says softly, looking down.

  I sit there for a few moments, too stunned to speak. How could I have been so dumb? This explains her red cheeks and embarrassed expression.

  “You…” I shake my head, still confused. “Me? What would a woman like you see in a guy like me?”

  She laughs softly. “You mean an uptight doctor who hasn’t been on a date in two years?”

  “I mean a beautiful, successful woman who could have her choice of men. I’m a disgraced, washed up former hockey player with a bad hip and a major drinking problem.”

  Graysen leans just the slightest bit closer to me, her smile fading. “That’s not what I see. I see a man fighting like hell to own his mistakes and do better.”

  The sincerity on her face both crushes me and lifts me up at the same time. To know that she sees more in me than I see in myself. No one’s done that before.

  “I was forced to come here.” I slowly reach out, resting my fingertips on her kneecap. “Left to my own devices, I’d be pushing half a gallon of water just to drag my ass through practice while hungover right now.”

  “You had a choice, Alexei. Everyone has a choice. And you’re putting in the work. You’ve been hurt in the past, and—”

  I flinch and pull my hand back. “I’ve never been hurt.”

  “You didn’t do anything to deserve it.”

  I shake my head and turn away. “You’re looking for something to blame my drinking on, and there’s nothing there.”

  “That’s for another conversation. Right now, I need to own what I’ve done that was inappropriate and let you know it won’t happen again.”

  I recoil. “Graysen, you haven’t done anything inappropriate.”

  “I shouldn’t have let myself—”

  I lean in, putting my hands on her knees now. “What if it was supposed to be this way?”

  She looks down at my hands. “See, I’m supposed to move away right now. Tell you that we have to keep this professional. But—” She swallows hard and lays her hands on top of mine.

  “I feel something, too,” I admit.

  She practically jumps out of her chair, her voice thick with emotion. “Don’t do that. Please, whatever happens from here, just…don’t do that.”

  “Don’t do what?”

  I stand up and start to walk over to her, but she puts a palm up to stop me.

  “Don’t pity me. My crush on you is wrong on every level, but I don’t want you pretending you feel anything back just so I’m less embarrassed.”

  “I’m not pretending.”

  Graysen laughs bitterly. “Look, let’s table this session for today.”

  “No.”

  When I step closer to her, she takes a couple steps back. I keep coming until her back is against the wall of her office and there’s only about a foot of space between us.

  “I’ve thought you were pretty since the first time I saw you,” I say. “You’ve caught me checking you out.”

  She looks up at me, opens her mouth to say something, but then closes it again.

  I continue. “I look forward to our time alone together every day.”

  “That’s because we’re making progress.” Her voice is nearly a whisper.

  “It’s because I want to talk to you. And for me, that’s a really big deal.”

  Graysen gives me a sad smile. “Everyone wants to talk to their therapist. I love talking to mine and she’s a fifty-something mom of four.”

  I furrow my brow. “Since when do you invalidate my feelings when I tell you about them?”

  Her laugh is nervous. “I can’t believe you just accused me of invalidating your feelings. You’re starting to sound like me.”

  I close some of the distance between us, my lips just a few inches from hers. “How about if I kiss you and we see how it goes?”

  Her eyes are wide circles of panic. “No! You can’t do that.”

  “I can, though.”

  As I lean in, she puts her palms on my chest and pushes me away, gentle but firm.

  “No. We need to end this conversation for now.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m not…I don’t kiss patients in my office. I don’t kiss them, period. This—” She gestures between the two of us. “—is not why we’re here. Yes, I’m attracted to you. But I really, really want to focus on your sobriety.”

  I take a step back and her face visibly relaxes.

  “Yeah, I get that.” I meet her eyes with a serious look. “But no more wall between us.”

  “Alexei, we can’t—”

  “I know. I’ll be all business in group sessions. But when it’s just you and me, we’re gonna be completely honest with each other.”

  She cringes. “Okay, but we’re going to be honest about the issues that brought you here, and how you can stay sober.”

  “Deal.” My lips crook up in a smile. “Mostly.”

  “Alexei—”

  “You smell good.” I grin at her. “See you in group, Dr. Wells.”

  I turn to go, my smile widening as I hear her half groaning and half sighing behind me.

  13

  Graysen

  Melinda’s eyelids are puffy and the makeup she was wearing earlier is completely gone. My session with Alexei this morning knocked me off balance; the one I had with Melinda after that took me in a completely different emotional direction.

  “I feel like a failure as a husband and a father when I drink,” Joe says during our group session. “There’s just this sick feeling that comes over me as I take that first
sip. I hate myself, you know?”

  He’s on the verge of tears. Melinda reaches over and puts a hand on his back. She understands self-loathing better than anyone here.

  This morning in my office, she raged. She cried and screamed about the unfairness of it all. She admitted to fantasizing about jumping in front of an oncoming vehicle so she can die the same way the victim of her DUI crash did.

  As painful as it was for her, she needed it. Melinda has spent her adult life holding it all in, trying to look like the perfect wife and mother who can handle anything and everything. Most people never knew she was “handling” it by drinking as much as three bottles of wine a day.

  “You’ve been sober for three weeks now,” I say to Joe. “How does that feel?”

  “It’s good. It’s difficult, but I feel like I’m finally going in the right direction.” His voice breaks with emotion. “I miss my wife and kids. I can’t wait to get home to them. My wife’s been handling everything herself with some help from her folks. It’s hard not talking to them.”

  “You’re here, putting in the effort and hard work that will allow you to be there for them for many years to come,” I remind him.

  He nods, looking somber. “I’m dying to go back to them and scared at the same time. I’m afraid to fail. I’ve quit drinking so many times, and I always relapse. My wife told me this is my last chance.”

  “Don’t set yourself up to fail, man,” Alexei says. “You gotta believe you can do this.”

  “I want to.” Joe buries his face in his hands.

  “You have more to focus on than just yourself once you go home, but you also have a lot of motivation,” I say. “If you have photos of your family in your wallet, take those out and look at them when you need to remind yourself what sobriety is worth to you.”

  He nods, and I take a deep breath before diving into the main topic for our group session today. Only Alexei and I will know how ironic it is that I’m bringing it up.

  “If you have a romantic partner and you get clean, you have to make a very important choice. Does that person support your new life? If you’re with someone who’s drinking or using, you’re setting yourself up to fall back into your old behavior.”