When I saw Maggie walk across the parking lot toward me, I felt like I could breathe again. My heart went into overdrive and I felt almost weak with relief. I had been terrified that she wouldn’t meet me. Not that I would have blamed her if she had turned her back and run as far away from me as she could get.

But yet here she was. And it reminded me that I had love and support and I was damn lucky. I pushed my hair back off of my forehead, my palms sweating.

“I wasn’t sure you’d show,” I admitted as she stopped in front of me. She looked beautiful in jeans that fit her narrow hips in a way that put very inappropriate but very hot thoughts in my head. Her teal sweater hung low around her neck and I tried not to be a total pig and peek down her shirt.

I was a guy after all. I’d have to be dead not to notice how amazing she looked.

She pulled her hair out of the collar of her jacket and gave me an unreadable look. “I wasn’t so sure I’d show either.” I swallowed thickly.

“Look if you don’t want to go, I understand. What I did was f**ked up,” I started but she cut me off.

“Stop it, Clay. I’ve thought about this long and hard. That’s all I’ve done for the last twenty-four hours. I’m sick and tired of obsessing over you. I was really hoping we’d be past this. But I think I’m just being naïve, and a little unfair to you. I can’t expect you to morph into super Clay so quickly. It’s only setting you up to fail. While what you did was not cool, I committed to taking this journey with you. And I won’t go back on that. If there’s anything I can do to make this easier on you, then I’ll do it.”

She stepped closer and narrowed her eyes. “But if you ever touch me like that again, you’re going to find yourself missing a few fingers. Are we clear?”

I nodded, finding any words inadequate. Maggie took a step back and her face relaxed.

“Let’s get going,” she said and went around to the passenger side door.

I hurried so I could open the door for her. I know it was old fashioned but opening her car door was the very least I could do. I went through a few of those super-duper, handy calming techniques as I made my way to my side of the car.

The air in the vehicle felt thick with tension and I didn’t know what to do to get rid of it. I had always been ill equipped to handle uncomfortable situations. Because they were usually a result of something I had done. And now was no exception.

For once, Maggie didn’t put on any music, so we rode to Shaemus’ office in complete silence. The rumble of the engine seemed loud in the quiet. I pulled up out front of the non-descript two story brick house with the sign reading “Blue Ridge Mental Health Services.”

I jumped out of the car and went around to open Maggie’s door. She looked up at the building that held Shaemus’ office. And without saying a word, she reached out and took my hand. Squeezing lightly, she walked with me to the front door.

We walked into the brightly lit waiting room. His receptionist, Holly, sat at her desk, typing on her computer. She looked up and smiled when she saw us. “Hi, Clay. Just have a seat. Shaemus is running a few minutes late.” Holly had to be in her mid-forties and at least seventy pounds overweight. But she was nice enough. I gave her a slight smile and led Maggie to a small couch in the corner.

“This is…nice,” Maggie offered, looking around at the worn furniture and off color walls.

“Not what you were expecting?” I asked her.

She shook her head. “No, I was picturing something more, clinical I guess. You know hospital white walls and chairs that make your back ache. More like an emergency room. This is almost like being in someone’s house.” Her observation was spot on. In fact, there was even a small TV off to the side and fish tank by the window. Sure the features were a little shabby, but it was anything but cold and impersonal.

We hadn’t been there long when the door in front of us opened and a girl close to our age came out. She was heroin addict skinny, with straggly blonde hair and shrunken eyes. I knew Maggie was trying not to stare but I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. She was asking herself the standard questions. I wonder what she’s doing here? She looks like a drug addict. Is she? Or is she just crazy?

At this stage in the game, I had long since given up trying to figure out anyone else’s issues. I had enough of my own. The girl’s eyes stayed fixed to the floor as she shuffled out of the office, giving Holly a wave as the receptionist called out goodbye.

Shaemus came over and I got to my feet. Maggie seemed suddenly apprehensive and I was reminded that this was a lot for her to agree to. Therapy is daunting even for those who do it regularly. I should have prepared her more for what this would be like. But I had forgotten to in the wake of our argument. Yet another shitty thing to add to the growing list of shitty things I had done.

“Clay! Hello! This must be Maggie.” Shaemus held out his hand for Maggie to shake. She gave him a wan smile and Shaemus looked between the two of us with a jovial grin. He really did look like someone’s balding uncle. When you saw him for the first time, you didn’t see shrink. I could imagine him playing bingo instead of dishing out therapy.

“Come on back.” He waved us toward his office and I took Maggie’s hand again as we headed inside. I watched Maggie take in her surroundings again before she sat down in one of the overstuffed armchairs in front of a walled up fireplace. Shaemus didn’t have a desk, like Dr. Todd had. There was a small work table off to the side, but he preferred to sit in the middle of the room with his clients. He said that desks were too easy to hide behind and if he expected his clients to be open and forthcoming, then he should do the same.