“Tyke, what choice do I have?” The quiver in my voice tells me I won’t be able to hold the tears back much longer.

“You always have a choice, Frannie.” He steps back and grabs his chest with both hands, fisting the dark fabric of his T-shirt. “Choose me. We’ll leave this place together.”

“I’ve worked too hard. I can’t—I won’t—walk out on a career for a man I barely know.”

My heart squeezes in my chest as I see how desperate he is to hang on to what little bit of a relationship we’ve started, and how much my harsh words are a slap in the face. As much as I wish we could have a fairy tale romance, I know this is reality and happily ever afters don’t happen to broken people like us. It’s best to cut things off now, before we get in any deeper. “Besides, you’re not ready to run away from here. You still need help.”

His face contorts with pain as he steps back from me. “You still think I’m a druggie, and yet you fuck me?” He turns away from me and locks his fingers behind his head. “So we’re done? Just like that? Got what you wanted and now you’re ready to bounce? You’re just like everybody else in my life. You used me.”

“Tyke.” I reach for him but quickly pull back, knowing that while it makes me a cruel bitch to hurt him like this, it’s the right thing to do.

For both of us.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. The second he exhales, a look of clarity shines in his eyes. They meet mine. “Fine. If that’s how you want it, I won’t bother you again.”

My lower lip trembles as I pretend to be unfazed by his decision, lifting my chin defiantly. “I think it’s best for both of us to remain strictly professional and pretend that we never allowed things to—”

He holds up his hand, and his expression contorts once again. “Distance. I got it. Consider this afternoon forgotten.”

I hate that I’m hurting him, but I don’t know another way to end this before we get too deep and I allow my heart to be crushed. I promised myself I would never care for anyone again. I don’t want to ever feel the pain that comes when a person leaves you forever. But the way he’s looking at me...it’s almost too much to bear.

The door opens and we immediately step away from each other. The rest of the clients filter into the room, and I’m suddenly paranoid that they’ll be able to feel the tension in the between us.

Tyke walks over and takes the seat furthest from where I’m standing. He stretches his long legs out and then throws one arm over the back of the metal chair next to him.

He doesn’t look in my direction again.

“Wicked Game” – Stone Sour

As I sit here locked in a room full of people struggling with addictions, I know the point is to listen to their stories and find comfort in the fact that I’m not alone. The problem is, right now, I feel more alone than ever. Frannie’s words still ring in my head. I don’t know why I thought she was different; that I was special to her. It’s my own fault for reading into something that was never really there. She was right. We barely know each other.

I do my best not to look at her as she sits across from me and leads the group therapy session.

Now that I’ve tasted her, I don’t know if I can ever pretend that I haven’t. I get that this job means a lot to her, and that she wants to protect it, but doesn’t she care about hurting me?

“—and that’s when I knew I had a problem. I couldn’t get my life back on track when she turned me down for the prom.” I fight the urge to roll my eyes at this idiot.

The only thing I know about this Arnold guy is that he’s never been able to get over his high school crush turning him down. He’s a fucking nut job. Who lingers for years on a woman turning them down? A woman he never had a shot at to begin with.

Next time I see Dr. Shepherd, I’m going to request not to come to any more of these sessions. What will listening to some crazy guy babble on do for me?

I shift my weight in my chair, catching the attention of Josie Sullivan. She smiles at me from the next chair over, biting her lip and motioning to the empty seat I’m resting my arm on. I shrug. Josie takes that as an invitation and slides over next to me. At first I think about moving my arm, not wanting to lead her on because I’m simply not interested, but then I glance across the room and catch Frannie’s perplexed expression. I know it’s a dick move, but I want to make her jealous. I want to show her that just because she doesn’t want me, doesn’t mean that someone else won’t.

Josie is an attractive woman. Fake, but attractive all the same. I’ve spoken to her in passing at the Grammys, but she was more interested in hitting on Noel. She’s a known fame-whore, and rumor has it she slept her way to her first record deal.

Josie’s brown eyes stare up at me, and she flashes her best flirty smile. “Thanks for the seat.”

As Arnold continues to prattle on about his most debilitating moments as a teenager, I lean into Josie’s ear and whisper, “You’re most welcome.”

My eyes flit in Frannie’s direction. I see the pain in her eyes as she focuses all her attention on Josie and me, and that’s when I know it’s not over between us, giving me all the motivation I need not to give up just yet.

I make it to Frannie’s office well before our scheduled appointment time. Last night while I lay awake in my bed, I did nothing but think of her. Making her jealous yesterday was fucked up on my part, but I was hurt and I couldn’t help but lash out.