Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 508(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
There was a flutter in my stomach at the mention of the little girl. “Oh my goodness. That’s something worthy of making top three. She must love you so much.”
“She does,” Claire agreed. “She’s a good kid.”
“Who loves you,” I added. “There are so many people who love you, Claire. And each of their worlds is better with you in it.”
She grew slightly bashful and shrugged. “You’re not that shitty at your job.”
I laughed. “I guess that’s why you keep coming back.”
“Yes, I suppose so. But your free candy helps,” she half-joked as she grabbed a piece from my desk. As she did, she paused and studied the photograph of my daughter, Ava. Her smile faded. “Is that your daughter?”
“She is.”
“Is she one of your good things?”
I nodded. “She’s the best thing.”
“She doesn’t really look like you,” she observed as she tilted her head. “Does she look like her dad?”
I didn’t reply, even though the answer was yes. My daughter looked more like her father than she’d ever look like me. Having Claire mention that fact made me sadder than I thought it would.
I smiled, not wanting to dive deeper into my private life. Ava was my daughter through my marriage to Henry. I’d known her since she was five years old. She’d just turned fourteen and was hands down the greatest thing that had ever happened to me. Still, I didn’t want to overshare with Claire. It was important to keep things professional. The more my clients knew about me, the worse off it could be.
Claire frowned. That wasn’t uncommon for her, and I hated that it was that way. She had a remarkable smile whenever it appeared. “I always wanted kids.”
“That’s still an option.”
“I don’t know. I just don’t see it sometimes for me.” She shifted and nodded toward the photograph. “Is her dad like you?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”
“You know…” She crossed her arms over her chest and shrugged her left shoulder. “Good.”
I pushed out another grin, though this one didn’t feel as great as the ones prior. “He loves his daughter.” Her frown deepened, yet before she could reply, I said, “I’ll see you next week.”
“Yeah, right. Okay. See you next week, Kierra.”
She left my office seemingly just as sad—if not sadder—than when she came in, which was hard for me to see. Yet I understood that breakthroughs looked different for everyone after a therapy session. Sometimes, people left in tears and feeling worse than when they came in. That was part of healing, though. Sometimes things seemed to be getting worse before they got better.
My mom always said resolving issues was like decluttering a house. You emptied all the closet spaces into the living room, making a big mess before organizing and clearing out the junk that was dragging you down. It was an important part of the process.
“Let go of what’s dragging you, baby girl. Then you can walk more freely,” Mom would always say when giving me advice.
It was solid advice that I revisited often.
Just as Claire had, I would remind myself of three good things that had kept me going over the past week:
Ava and I were going to eat a good amount of leftover birthday cake.
During lunchtime, I got free extra guacamole at my favorite Mexican restaurant.
We had officially moved into our new home a few months ago after buying a large plot of land, and the official build of our larger forever home was about to start there. We were currently living in an older house on the property until our home would be finished.
As I gathered my things to head home, there was a knock at my door. I looked up to see Joseph, one of the other therapists in our private practice, standing there. Joseph was the one who had opened Healing Waters Therapy Center.
Healing Waters used all different types of therapy to help our clients heal. Joseph’s specialty was music and water therapy, which seemed to be remarkably helpful to many individuals. He was a genius at his job, and over the years he’d become one of my closest friends. Joseph was the definition of positivity, always able to put a spin of light on any situation. Plus, he was remarkably educated and easily one of the most intelligent individuals I’d ever known. We’d celebrated his sixtieth birthday at the office a few weeks ago, but with the way that man searched for adventure, one would’ve thought he was in his early twenties. Just last month he’d spent a week climbing a freaking mountain for fun. That was how I knew Joseph’s idea of fun was different than my own. A week of fun for me included binge watching Below Deck in pajamas with take-out food.
“Are you off to finish prepping for your dinner party?” he asked.