Her Therapist

Chapter 16.

SEBASTIAN

Two hours of intense researching and checking out each report from each of the hospitals in our city, and no sign of any patient under her name.

Esther Larsson never was a patient in any of the hospitals in this city.

Then in which hospital she was?

She had to be at least in one because she seems to be so scared of them, of being locked in a madhouse, and she loves calling it, and she is definitely familiar with medicine, and even with the effects, they leave on her.

Which city should I check?

I don't know, but what I know is that if I need to check all of them, I definitely will without any hesitation.

"That was the last hospital, brother", Conor sighs, leaning further in his seat, brushing his grown beard with his fingers.

"I know, Conor", I sigh, "I know."

"I'm sorry."

"No, no", I shake my head, "it's okay. It's not your fault." I lean in the armchair, too. "It's mine."

"Why yours exactly?" My best friend wiggles his brows and frows. He stretches his arm full of veins that can be seen because his sleeve of a white shirt is rolled to his elbow, to take the cup of coffee that Ava prepared us.

"Mine", I sigh one more time. "I let her escape."

"Seb", Conor draws my attention, and I look at him, after short thinking about.... about nothing in particular and everything in general.

"Hm?"

"You shouldn't be blaming yourself."

"I shouldn't yes", I retort, brushing my chin, imitating him, "then, why do I?", I mumble in my chin.

"Because you..."

The door opening cuts him off, and I'm glad for whoever is behind the door because I knew exactly what he was going to do- to tell me how I'm beginning to like Esther, and that is way impossible. More importantly, it's forbidden.

"Ava", the name of our kind nurse falls from Conor's mouth. She offers him a smile, and turns to me, still smiling, as she always does, giving me, us, all of the people so much positive energy.

"Sebastian, your patient is waiting", she announces, and I confuse.

"Wendy?", I cock my eyebrow, my glance flying through the documents of another mental hospital in our city. Still no sign of the name of the aggressive girl.

"Wendy?", Conor repeats her name with fear and jumps from the chair. I wide my eyes at his movements, and raise my eyebrow again. Ava snaps his head at him, surprised, too. "Wendy is here?"

You mean the reason you drank last night is here? I ask him with my glare, my eyebrows raised, and when he catches it, he quickly puts himself together and clears his throat.

"I mean, Ava", he turns to her, and puts a familiar grin of his on his face "come with me, will you?"

"I...", she turns to me, and parts her lips, biting the lower one before she looks at Conor again, "will, of course."

She turns on her heel and follows Conor, and I roll my eyes shortly, knowing exactly what they are about to do now. He opens the door for her, and before she manages to get out, Wendy enters.

She smiles widely, like I've never seen her smile for the six months she's been coming to my therapies, and her eyes even bright when they lay on the face of the man who drank because of her.

"Conor!", she tweets, and I smile, so happy to see her in this mood, so carefree, so excited. I expected her to be sad because she has to be in the safe house currently, and to ask me immediately after she comes in, when can she go home, but watching her now, I can't describe how awesome I feel like I've finally completed the task to see her in this state.

"I want to thank you..."

Conor takes Ava's hand and pulls her with him, walking past the red-haired girl and she opens her mouth, getting cut off in the middle of the sentence. I have no idea what she wanted to say, but I guess she wanted to have a little chat with him. And knowing he was the reason for the shine in her bright eyes, and a wide smile on her pale face with freckles, I cannot believe that he has just walked past her, without even glancing in her direction nor once.

I part my lips, as well, gasping, and bow my head, shaking it, while rubbing my forehead with my palm briefly.

"... for the last time", she finishes, mumbling it in her chin, but the still drunk man who has a terrible hangover and is about to have short and meaningless sex with a worker in our hospital just to forget someone else has already disappeared, leaving the young woman who has been mentally and physically abused.

She, on the other hand, doesn't let herself show that she is disappointed and sniffles, wiping her face even though I see no signs of any tears, then she walks to my desk, and takes a seat, greeting me, still with a smile, though now a bitter and forced one.

"Hi, Wendy", I move the papers from my desk, "how are you doing today?"

"Well, I..."