Page 15 of That Summer

“And you’ve yet to get into a vehicle.”

She leaned on the armrest and sighed. “That’s not entirely true anymore. I’m finally riding in a car.”

He flipped through the folder, surveying each page. “Excellent. When did that happen?”

“Ten days ago.”

His face brightened as his pen scratched across a pad of paper. “I’d say something worked. Tell me about it, since there’s been no mention of it.”

“Of course there wouldn’t be. Dr. Donovan spent more time pushing back on her cuticles than she did listening. To test her, I even mentioned how Elvis walked into the room. After that, I’ll be damned if I was going to share anything personal with her.”

“Dr. Donovan was having a bad week.”

“Well, she lost a patient. If she wasn’t able to concentrate at work, she should’ve taken time off.”

“She did.” He hunched forward a bit. “But we’re not here to talk about her. We’re here to discuss you, and I’d like to know more about how you did riding in the car with Lucas.”

Breaking eye contact with him, she shrugged. “It was short. I think, like, two minutes. Lucas drove us down the street.”

“Tell me what you were thinking.”

“I was scared obviously. Wasn’t sure if I could do it.”

“But you did. How?”

How? Well, I was angry for starters. Stupid weakness. And shame, lots and lots of shame.

Uncontrollable flushes of heat washed over her as she remembered, but she wasn’t interested in delving into that topic right now. One thing at a time. In a quiet voice she said, “With Nate’s help.”

He reached for the file and peeked inside. “Ah, yes, the want-to-be boyfriend.”

She growled under her breath. “Whatever.”

“He was there?”

“In my mind. I could see him as if he was standing in front me, which obviously he couldn’t do as we were driving.”

“Interesting.” The pen scribbled frantically in his hand. “And what was he doing?”

“Encouraging me. Smiling at me.”

“Uh-huh. I see. And Lucas, what was he doing at that moment?”

“Driving of course.” Uncomfortable sitting as she was, she twisted in her seat and stuck her legs out in front of her. Damn hip. As much as physio helped, the aching never went away. However, it was tolerable, and didn’trequirea Percocet for it. Not that she’d turnthatdown.

She glanced at the clock.

Not even close to being finished.

Air rushed out of her lungs. “I know where you’re going with this.”

I’ve been to enough therapy sessions to know what comes next.

“You think, and you’re probably right, that I saw Nate’s face, but it was Lucas’ words. But it doesn’t matter. The point is I got to the pub, and I got home. In one piece. Alive.”

He studied her and turned down the pad of paper. “Are you grateful for that?”

“For getting home alive?” She narrowed her eyes. “Of course I am.”