Dominance and Submission (boyxboy)

Chapter 12: Monday morning.

Chapter 12

                                                Monday morning (bright and early)

He didn't say it, but it was as plain as day that he didn't want to go. Ever since I'd broken the news of his impending visit to see his new therapist, he could hardly look at me. He'd even been silent on the very long drive over to the doctor's office (even more so than usual; and that was saying something.)

I glanced at him now. He'd chosen to sit two spaces away from me in the waiting area, and now he was busy scribbling in his journal. I could only imagine the upset thoughts and emotions he was letting out on its pages and I couldn't help but be amused.

I allowed him a few more minutes alone because we were early, and when he finally shut the book and put away his pen, I moved to sit beside him. "You alright?"

He nodded, but didn't look at me.

"This will be a good thing, trust me."

Another nod.

I tried another tactic. "Why do you think you're here?"

"Because you think something's wrong with me." He mumbled.

"No." I told him and finally he spared me a glance. "I just think you've been through a lot and talking to someone will help you."

"I talk to Monte all the time."

"An independent person with no prior input into your personal life I mean. A therapist is like your own personal secret keeper." I told him "You can tell her absolutely anything on your mind and no one will ever know."

He bit his lip. "What about you?"

"I won't know a thing that goes on in that room and I'll never ask. It's your chance to let everything off your chest. She'll help you with whatever you're going through."

He seemed to consider my words. "I'm sure there are things you might not feel comfortable telling even Monte." His eyes flashed to mine and I knew I had hit the mark. "You'll be able to tell your therapist and she won't be able to tell a soul...not unless you want her to."

"Okay."

"Look at me." He met my eyes. "There's nothing wrong with you. Everyone needs someone to talk to."

Cam nodded. "Do you have a therapist too?"

"Cameron Reid."

We both looked up at the sound of his name and saw the receptionist beckoning to him. He frowned and looked at me—his face the epitome of misery.

"I'll be right here when you get back. Stop worrying. It'll be fine." It was only then that he got up and followed the woman out of the room. I'd called ahead the day before to inform the doctor of my own observations regarding Cam and it was my hope that it would help the process go smoother.

This was the one thing I wouldn't budge on. He would go whether or not he liked it because the fact of the matter was, he needed help.

I settled into the uncomfortable waiting room chair and pulled out my phone. I needed an early morning flight to Chicago on Wednesday. I thought it would be good for Cam to relax a bit and this trip would be the perfect opportunity for him to meet Tate.

Once the flight plans were finalized, I retrieved my laptop from the seat beside me and settled in to get some work done. In the hour long therapy session, I managed to make a few calls, send a couple emails, draft a partial business proposal and edit the team's marketing strategy. When Cam finally exited the doctor's office, he was as miserable as he had been going in.