Falling For His Therapist

I stared at the paperwork doctor Riley's assistant gave me, skimming over the information in the file pertaining to my new client.

Declan Isaacs.

There's a lot to unpack here. He's been in therapy since the age of four. His mother abandoned him when he was just a baby, but came back and seems to have caused a lot of trouble for him and his family.

There's information about a custody battle, abuse allegations, and his journey to overcoming selective mutism. I kept reading further. My heart dropped. Apparently, Mr. Isaacs shot and killed his mother when he was just four years old.

It's going to take a lot of therapy to heal him from this kind of trauma. If that's even possible. Sometimes a client may never experience the freeing feeling of no longer being bound by their trauma, fears, and or problems.

Despite going through years of school in order to get where I am, I still feel so unprepared. I have several clients, but I have yet to deal with one who is this broken.

Luckily, when something is broken most of the time it can be fixed. I'm not saying my clients need fixing, but being in therapy will benefit them greatly in their journey to find healing.

I sighed, setting down the file filled to the brim with notes. After doctor Riley's passing due to old age, all of his clients, except the one I was given were transferred to doctor Newman.

I don't know why he didn't just give doctor Newman all of his clients, but I'm sure he has his reasons. I only wish he were still here so I could ask him.

Before his passing, I spent a bit of time under doctor Riley's wing. Not only am I the youngest in my department, but I'm also fairly new. I've only been working here for a few years now, doctor Riley having taught me nearly everything I know.

But even with his help, I still feel so unprepared. I've never had a client like Mr. Isaacs. I just hope I'll be able to do as good of a job taking care of him as doctor Riley had.

I looked up from the notepad on my lap, the sound of someone knocking on the door filling my ears and tearing me from my worried thoughts.

I cleared my throat and sat up straighter in my chair. "Come in."

The door opened and in walked my newest client- Declan Isaacs.

I was immediately drawn to the tattoos on his arms and neck. There was just so many that it was hard to focus on just one.

A pair of emerald green eyes flickered to me and my heart began to race as my body stiffened. "Welcome Mr. Isaacs," I greeted, forcing out a smile in an attempt to hide how nervous I am.

"Mr. Isaacs is my father," he said lowly. "Please, call me Declan." He took a seat in the dark brown leathered chair across from me, pushing his hips forward to sit manspread.

He was wearing a simple solid white tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans, which he somehow managed to make look oh so attractive. The shirt he was wearing clung to his body, revealing a toned torso underneath.

I swallowed, suddenly needing some water for my parched throat. His green eyes bore heavily into me, his eyes scaling my body slowly. "Aren't you a little young to be a Therapist?"

"Would you prefer someone older?"

"No. You'll do just fine," he murmured, his eyes falling to my legs.

Clearing my throat once more, I tugged at the hem of my black dress, attempting and failing to shield my legs from his hot gaze.

Retrieving the file off my desk, I stared down at my notes as a way to distract myself from the discomfort I feel under Declan's piercing gaze. "So, I hear you want to put an end to your speech therapy sessions. Is that true?"

He nodded. Writing this information down in my notepad, I moved on to my next question. "Are you still having nightmares?"

He nodded a second time. "Every night."

"Do you want to tell me a little bit about that?" I still haven't looked up, his eyes damn near burning a hole into my body.

"No."

"Okay. Well, are you still taking the medication doctor Riley prescribed you?"

"Yes."

"And how's that been going?"

"Fine."

I looked up, hearing him give me yet another vague answer. I sighed, sensing some discomfort on his end. "I know I'm not doctor Riley, but I really am here to help." He didn't respond. So I asked, "how can I make you feel more comfortable in my presence?"

Despite his relaxed position, he had an impenetrable brick wall up. His shoulders were tense, the muscles in his face tight. And he hasn't stopped bouncing his bent knee since he sat down.

As this was only the first session, I wasn't going to try and pressure him to open up to me. I wanted him to feel as comfortable as possible, so that when he's ready to open up to me- he will.

"Tell me your name," he finally spoke after a moment of lingering silence.

"Dr. Claire."

He shook his head. "Your first name."

"Aya."

"Aya," he repeated, licking and biting his lip. He hummed, seeming to enjoy the way my name tasted and sounded on his lips.

The alarm on my little white clock went off, indicating that our session had ended. Not much was said, but the time still seemed to pass us by pretty fast.

Declan stood to his feet, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He made his way over to the door, his hand on the knob as he paused to turn to me.

"See you next week, Aya." He smirked, his eyes skimming over me once more before he left my office.

I let out a heavy sigh, as if I had been holding my breath for the duration of our session. I fanned myself with my hand, feeling hot all over and needing to cool down. "God, I need a drink. Or two."

Declan's POV

"How did your session with your new therapist go today?"

"Fine," I murmured, popping a potato chip into my mouth.

"Just fine?" My father questioned with a raise of his brow.

I shrugged my shoulders, grabbing another chip out of the bag. "I don't know if I can trust her yet."

My father opened his mouth to speak again, but was interrupted by the annoying sound of my sisters arguing.

"Dad!" They both shouted in unison, making their way into the kitchen.

They started yelling over each other, their words jumbled as our father tried to figure out what was going on. "Okay, one at a time please."

Harper went first. "Ade keeps stealing my clothes."

She pointed to the purple tank top Adeleine was currently wearing, the tight material showing far more skin than I was comfortable with. She's only sixteen. Who knows what kind of perverts are going to be looking at her.

She might as well throw it in the trash along with the other clothes in Harper's closet. As a matter of fact, Harper shouldn't be wearing it either.

He looks to Adeleine. "You can't just take clothes out of your sister's room."

"But dad," she whined. "I was going to give it back."

"Like you gave me back my favorite sweater the last time you went into my room?" Harper snapped, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Adeleine.

They start arguing again and our father lets out a frustrated groan. "I'm too old for this shit." Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out his wallet and handed each of them a couple hundred dollars. "No more stealing each other's clothes. If you need more money let me know."

I chuckled, munching on a couple of chips that I'd shoved into my mouth. He's always throwing money at them.

After all, they are daddy's little girls. If they wanted the world, he'd stop at nothing to lay it at their feet. It's how he treats all the women in his life.

Snatching the wad of green money off the counter, Harper and Adeleine squealed with excitement as they left to go spend our father's money at the mall.

Standing up from the kitchen barstool I was sitting on, I turned to head out to my apartment. "Declan, wait."

I stopped in my tracks, cursing under my breath. I didn't want to continue talking about my therapy session. There's nothing to say.

Besides the fact that I was totally caught off guard by her ethereal beauty and had to rush out of there to submerge myself under cold water, I don't feel comfortable sharing my past with her.

Surely she can understand that. I mean I've been seeing doctor Riley since I was four. So she can't expect me to just pour out all my thoughts and feelings just like that.

"Give doctor Claire a chance. I promise you won't regret it."

"Okay."

****

Entering my apartment complex, I tossed my keys on to the counter. I was going to have to head back over to my parents house for family dinner in a couple of hours.

Which I admit I've been really looking forward to. My mom's been away on vacation -courtesy of my father- and I've been missing her greatly.

Sighing, I made my way into the living room. I paused when I saw my brother butt ass naked on my couch with another one of his flings.

The blonde screamed when she saw me, frantically shoving Mason off her bare body to cover herself up with one of the blankets on the couch.

Mason glanced back at me, a smirk on his face while the pretty blonde he was balls deep in seconds ago's face turned bright red. "You're home early."

"You couldn't take her to your place?"

"I could have, but your place is so much nicer."

Rolling my eyes, I leaned down to pick up his clothes, which he had left in a pile on the floor, and tossed it to him. "Now I need to burn my couch."

I should be used to his whore-ish behavior by now, but I'm not. The little brother I remember used to cling to my side and want to watch Finding Nemo all day everyday. And now that he's older, he'd rather cling to pussy.

He chuckled, putting on his clothes while the blonde ran into my bathroom to get dressed.

"What's this one's name?"

"Corinne," he replied, zipping up his pants. "I met her in my criminology class. She's sexy as hell, isn't she?"

I give it a week, and then he'll be introducing me to another girl he met in college who will feed his insatiable appetite.

Mason ran his hands through his dark medium length hair, looking back when a fully clothed Corinne came sauntering out of the bathroom.

"I think I'm going to go. I'll call you later." Giving Mason a goodbye kiss, she awkwardly waved at me before taking her leave.

"Well, I better head out too." He checked the time on his phone, while heading toward the exit. "I have to go pick up mom from the airport."

"Wait, can I go with you?"

Mason shook his head, motioning me with his hand to follow him. "God, you're such a mama's boy. Let's go."

****

"Declan! Mason!" I nearly ran into my mother's open arms, accepting the comfort of her warm and welcoming embrace.

She's only been gone a week, but it felt like longer. I hate being away from her. I hate being anyway from my family in general, but I especially hate being away from her.

She was there for me when my biological mother wasn't. She raised me as her own. She loved me as her own. And I am so grateful that she's in my life.

My other siblings don't understand my feelings, because they share the same blood as her. Not to mention they didn't shoot and kill their mother in cold blood like I did.

Once we were in the car, she asked me the same question my father had asked when I stopped by the house.

"How did your session with your new therapist go?"

"Fine."

"Just fine?" She questioned with a raise of her neatly trimmed brow. "Well, do you like her?"

God, they are practically one and the same.

"This was just the first session, mom. We hardly said a word to each other."

Well, she spoke and I openly fucked her with my eyes. But that's besides the point. I don't know her. And despite doctor Riley's better judgment, she may not be able to help me like he had.

"And what about you, Mason. What have you been up to?"

"More like what has he been in to," I muttered, earning a look of confusion from my mother.

Mason cleared his throat, coming up with a quick, rehearsed lie. "Spending time with my dear old big brother." He gave her the best puppy dog eyes he could muster, which of course, she fell for like she always does.

She's never been able to resist the eyes of an Isaacs. We all gained our father's green eyes, which has been a great advantage when you want to avoid receiving one of her motherly lectures.

When we got home, my parents were all over each other. "Ew, mom and dad," Adeleine protested in disgust, crinkling her nose at the sight of our old ass parents making out.

My father hugged my mother from behind and kissed her neck. "How do you think you got here, sweetheart?"

She looked like she was about seconds away from puking. The doorbell rang, Adeleine racing to answer the door as she shouted enthusiastically, "I'll get it!"

My uncle Everett and aunt Haley walked in, my cousins Paxton, Silas, and Isaac following close behind.

It wasn't long before my uncle Beau, aunt Ivy, and cousin Flynn also made an appearance.

Saturday and Sunday night family dinner is always like this. There isn't a day where it isn't packed in this house.

It's why I moved out and got my own place. Don't get me wrong I love my family, but there are times when I enjoy having my alone time. And this is coming from someone who has separation anxiety.

My uncle Everett approached me, a serious look on his face. I knew what he was about to ask me before he even said it.

It's what happens when you live in a large, close knit family like mine. You learn pretty fast that there are no such thing as secrets.

"How was therapy?"

Aya's POV

I sat on the couch with a glass of red wine in hand, enjoying the peace and quiet. I had the apartment to myself since Joy was still at work and Adrianna was currently on a date with some guy she met at a bar.

Stretching my legs out on the couch, I got comfortable and turned on the TV. I had a long day at work and was really looking forward to some alone time.

I jumped up, spilling my wine all over my shirt as Adrianna burst through the door of our apartment.

So much for that alone time.

She slammed the door shut, groaning obnoxiously loud as she dragged her feet behind her.

"How was your date?" She shot me an icy look. "Was it really that bad?"

She poured herself a glass of wine, filling her glass all the way to the top before joining me on the couch.

"It was the absolute worst date I have ever been on in my life."

Adrianna was known for being dramatic. And I thought this was another one of those moments until she started giving me more details.

"Not only was he rude to the waiter, but he wouldn't stop biting his nails and spitting it onto the floor."

"Ew."

"That's not even the worse part." She pauses, downing almost half her glass before continuing. "In the middle of the date, his husband confronts him for cheating and they leave. And I'm just sitting there looking stupid and having to pay a bill that cost damn near my entire paycheck."

"You didn't know he was gay?"

"No," she sobs, burying her face in her hands. "I had no idea."

Going back into the kitchen, I grabbed the bottle of wine and sat back down on the couch. "Looks like you're going to need this more than me."

Looking up, she took the bottle and poured herself another glass. "How was your day? Surely it was better than mine."

"It was alright. Really exhausting."

"Didn't you meet your new client today?"

"I did. He's very detached, which I expected. But I'm hoping that with time, he'll eventually warm up to me."

Finishing off the rest of my wine, I set it down on the coffee table and stood up. Stripping out of my wine covered shirt, I left to go throw it in the dirty clothes hamper and take a quick shower.

When I was satisfied, I dried myself off and rummaged through my drawer for pajamas. Pulling out an oversized tee shirt, which I'm pretty sure belonged to my ex, I slipped it on and walked back out just in time for Joy to walk in.

"You won't believe the day I had," she said with a heavy sigh, snatching the bottle of wine out of Adrianna's hand and tossing back the last bit that remained.

"Was it worse than Adrianna's date?" I asked, wondering what could be worst than what Adrianna went through.

"Someone tried to rob the bank today."

"What?" Adrianna and I both exclaimed simultaneously.

"Don't worry, I'm alright. The robber didn't make it very far thanks to our security guard."

Adrianna and I shared a worried look with one another. Joy just seemed so unfazed by the situation, which I know stems from the fact that this isn't the first time someone's attempted to rob her place of work. In fact, this is the third time this year. So she's probably used to it by now.

"Maybe you should consider working somewhere else," Adrianna suggested.

"No way. The pay is too good."

I figured she'd say that. She'd do anything for money. And when I mean anything, I mean quite literally anything.

Last year we went to a concert. It was some contemporary rock band that we have never heard of. We only went because Joy thought the lead singer was really hot.

Anyway, Adrianna dared her to flash her boobs at him for fifty bucks and that's what she did. She ended up not only gaining fifty bucks, but a personal invitation back stage.

After they exchanged numbers, the two of them started hooking up. It was an on and off thing, which didn't last very long as the band had to go on tour. We haven't seen the guy since, not that Joy even cares. She's not into the whole commitment thing.

As for Adrianna, all she wants is to be in a committed relationship. But her taste in men is horrible. Not one single guy she's ever hooked up with or dated was remotely boyfriend/husband material.

Joy and I have offered to set her up ourselves, but she's determined to find "the one" all on her own.

"Since you two had such a shitty day, I think this calls for more wine, some ice cream, and a movie marathon."

"On it!" Joy shot up to go and grab more wine and some ice cream from within the freezer, while I searched for a movie for us to watch.

It took us awhile, but eventually we settled on a few movies to watch. Bundled up on the couch with a blanket on our lap, a glass of wine in one hand, and ice cream in the other, we ended up staying up until almost three in the morning.

Normally I'd go to bed around ten, but Sundays are my day off. Which means I can stay up as long as I want to and sleep in as late as I want to.

That night, when I was back in the comfort of my bed, my mind began to wander to Declan. He tries so hard to hide it, but I can see that shy, scared little boy clear as day.

I don't know why he took his mother's life, but I know it can't be easy living everyday with the blood of your mother on your hands.

He said he still has nightmares. I wonder if he's up right now? That can't be good for him.

The medication doctor Riley prescribed should help him with his anxiety and insomnia. If not, I will have to up his dosage.

Turning in my bed, I stared out the window, admiring the moon illuminating the starry night sky.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand, alerting me of a text message. Grabbing my phone, I pulled up the message Joy sent me.

Joy: You're thinking about your clients, aren't you?

Me: Just one.

Joy: Your new one?

She knows me so well.

Sometimes I stay up late at night worrying about my clients. I'm expected to separate my work life from my home life, which isn't an easy task.

At times, it can be mentally draining. The things my clients say are just so heartbreaking. How do you continue on with your life knowing someone has experienced what they experienced?

I grew up in the foster care system, never having met the parents who didn't want me. I used to think I had it bad until I became a Therapist.

All it took was for one client to tell me their story for me to realize how much I take life for granted.

My parents may not be in my life, but I do have a family. Joy and Adrianna are my family. And even my foster parents, who I still keep in touch with.

Joy: What is it about this client that has you up thinking so late in the night?

Me: I don't know. There's just something about him. I feel so drawn to him and I don't know why.

Joy: You've always been drawn to people who you think need "saving". It's why you decided to become a Therapist in the first place. So you can help people.

Me: So you're saying I have a savior complex?

Joy: Yup. Goodnight.

A savior complex? Really?

I mean it does it explain a lot. I've always been attracted to broken people. Which is probably why my dating is currently non-existent.

Maybe if I just get laid I'll forget all about my incessant need to try and "save" him. Maybe I'll finally be able to separate my work life from my home life.

Maybe.