The Concept |r. blaney|

twelve: be true to you, my love

Her legs were crossed, hands interlocked, and eyes locked on her therapist as she carefully awaited an explanation to her confession. The therapist, Harriet, was smiling as she looked down to the bin of brownies, cookies, and banana bread, then back up to Cadence. Her black and white checkered mini-skirt complimented her taunt black tank top that was tucked under the hem of the skirt. She wore black boots to prepare for Julia's birthday party later that night.

Which, if it was anything like each year previous, it'd be wild.

Therefore, her weekly appointment had to end well. Otherwise, she'd be spilling her truths drunkenly to an entire slew of strangers. "Wow, um." Harriet paused, nudging her glasses up her nose as she glanced at her client's hands. Comfortably entwined. "So, a lot must have happened since last week."

"Yeah, well last week seems like a year ago." Cadence nodded, sweeping a long braid over her shoulder. "You still haven't commented on... it."

"Yeah. Processing, I guess..."

If you must know, this was common. Cadence left a multitude of people speechless, so the silence was welcoming. During her high school valedictorian speech, her therapist on a series of topics, Gus nearly all his life. Which was quite the accomplishment. Gus knew his way around social situations. "Okay." Harriet inhaled slowly, eyes moving around the room before landing on her client. "What are your thoughts toward your... wants?"

"I asked you your thoughts." Cadence shrugged, brows knitted together.

"My thoughts begin with yours, so... let's hear it."

"Well." She paused, lips pursed. "I was drunk, so I'm not sure. Maybe things would be more clear if the puppy didn't break us up. Puppy? Well, actually not, I guess. Sturgill's probably as big as he'll get, super sweet. He loves me, which makes me happy because Ryan's really loves him. And his ears-- ahh, he's so cute--"

"Cadence, I'm asking about you. Not the dog." She chuckled. Cadence smiled, shoulders falling to reveal her comfort. "Have you heard the phrase 'Drunk words are sober thoughts?'"

"Are you saying me wanting to kiss Ryan while drunk is what I want to do sober? Because the next morning I didn't kiss him, and I was dehydrated, sure... But not drunk."

"I'm not saying that, no... All I'm saying is..." She sucked in a sharp breath, waving her hands out. "Ever since I met you, you've done a lot of emotion suppression. After losing Gus, you didn't want to move on ever. You wanted to grieve him until you died, which is unhealthy, yes. But it's apart of grief. I think now, your thoughts are changing because you met a man who wants to help you improve yourself. That's amazing. But, two weeks ago, you told me he was just a friend. Now, you come back and tell me you wanted to kiss him." She chuckled softly as Cadence looked away.

"You make me sound like a high schooler."

"Love isn't a high school cliche--"

"Love?" Her eyes bugged out of her head before she got up on her feet. "Love-- No. No ma'am. I don't love Ryan. He's handsome, and sweet, and has very kissable lips... and really pretty, long hair, and eyes that--" She physically raised her palm to her forehead, locking her jaw as her eyes snapped shut. Her therapist laughed as she hissed in annoyance at herself before sitting back down on the couch. She spoke slowly and softly, as if that'd prove her point. "But I don't love him."

"Okay." Her therapist grinned, eyes moving to the baked goods she technically wasn't allowed to accept. Months ago, however, Cadence learned that if she ran off before she could offer them back, she was granted the gift. "Well, everytime you start to debate these things, ask yourself. Are you being honest? If you want to kiss him, be honest with yourself. If you think he's handsome and you enjoy his company, be honest. Try to embrace these emotions."