Chapter Forty Six

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M E A N I N G F U L
M I S T A K E S
Chapter Forty Six

Just like my dad had said, when Doctor Garcia left, Hunter is the first and only person to let themselves in my private hospital suite

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Just like my dad had said, when Doctor Garcia left, Hunter is the first and only person to let themselves in my private hospital suite.

"How'd you go?" He asks and takes his original spot beside me on the bed, adjusting so he can lie on his side to face myself.

I sigh and rethink about to everything my psychologist had spoken to me about. I hate being told what's wrong with me. "I've officially been diagnosed with anxiety and PTSD. Something to do the PTSD is what triggers the anxiety- I can't quite remember. It was a lot to take in hearing from a professional."

The session is still hazy to me. I didn't want to believe what she was saying. What made it worse was when I discovered that she'd spoken with Doctor Weston, my dad, and friends about me- asking questions about me. Of course, William ratted me out by admitted about the time I fainted when I first saw Noah again.

Hunter frowns, but he doesn't stare at me like there's something wrong. He looks at me the same way he always has, with his hazel eyes softening. "It was just a one off, I promise."

This was no one off.

"It's okay." He stops me before I can rant even more. "It changes nothing. You're still going to be the strong girl who throws milkshakes at people, and my little Lollipops."

Warmth spreads across me from his words. Though there is a flicker of something else when he brings up a different topic. "Why does my milkshake scandals always have to be bought up?"

Hunter chuckles and closes his eyes for a brief moment. "Because I will never forget when you threw it at me. That smell stayed with me for days and no matter how hard I scrubbed it off, it still feels like it's there." I had managed to change the topic without noticing, but I knew Hunter was going to change it back the second his face changes. "But, my milkshake thrower, having mental health complications doesn't define who you are. It's not something to be scared about."

"But I don't want them." The words fly out before I can stop them. He frowns deeply. "I-" I swallow a ball of razors that forms in my throat. "I mean, I already have to deal with my problems with food, I can't handle anymore problems-"

"They're not problems." Hunter sits up straighter and gently cups my face with both his hands. "They're just bumps in the road, but they're not problems. They're only natural given what you've been through. Think of them as scars from the wound."

I decide not to tell him about how I hesitantly agreed to taking the newly prescribed anti anxiety meds. I said I will accept them- not take them. I still haven't decided if I'll try making them a part of my daily life.

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