Free True North Book 3 - Finding Now Kate and Sam by Allie Juliette Mousseau

to tell, not a shrink or another therapist.” I gestured to Dr. Jensen. “Just another human being. But it felt like if I did … or … if I let myself be happy, then I’d be … betraying him. Or I’d forget about him or worse, like I’d have moved on and gone on without him .” I rubbed my forehead to try to calm myself.
    “I think it’s natural to feel that way when you’ve lost someone you loved.” She thought for a moment. “And sharing your experience with a new friend isn’t going on without him ; it’s simply letting him rest in peace, inside you. It’s a healthy step forward.”
    “And what if I did tell him?”
    “Why don’t we put a name with the him that’s becoming a friend?”
    I gave her an angry look.
    “Not using his name keeps him in an impersonal space and keeps you aloof.”
    “Sam.” I forced his name between my lips. “What if Sam blames me like I blame myself or is a real dick and tells everybody at the university? I’m a professor, a very young professor. I can’t risk that.”
    “Let’s talk about taking one positive step. What is one positive step that you could take?”
    “I already did. I went out to lunch with him— Sam . That was positive.”
    “Absolutely, but you also felt like you owed it to Sam, which means you’re still acting because of your feelings of guilt.” She waited, but when I didn’t respond, continued. “It’s time we made an action plan.”
    “A what?”
    “Goals. For you to begin doing something different from your routine, something that brings you closer and makes you feel more in touch with your true self,” she suggested.
    “Not following you.” Or maybe I didn’t want to be.
    “Here.” She got up and moved behind her desk, retrieved a pad of paper and pen then handed them to me. “Write this down: Goals … Walk on the sandy beach with no shoes. ”
    I let the pen drop to the paper and stared at her. That hit way too close to home.
    “Just write it, you don’t have to do it. Not yet .”
    Reluctantly, I scrawled it onto the paper.
    “ Go to a movie ,” she said.
    I barked out a laugh.
    “Write it!” she ordered. “ Dance in the rain. Get drunk. ” She watched me to make sure I was actually writing what she said. “Let’s see … Play your favorite music. Go to three places you’ve never been before here in the area. ”
    “I’m starting to hate you more.”
    “Good, just keep going on that list. Wear the clothes you used to like. Get laid .”
    “ Get laid?” I croaked, wide-eyed. “Are you serious? That’s going to be in your doctor’s plan?”
    “I’m a woman just like you, and yes, ‘get laid’ is part of the plan. Just make sure you use a condom.”
    I rolled my eyes. “And am I supposed to hire a male prostitute? Because I don’t have any offers!”
    “That’s your problem,” she shot back, then said, “Okay look, getting laid is a personal choice and I’m obviously not going to force you to do it. If you really want to take it off the list … the choice is yours. But from one woman to another, I know your past and I know that having sex can be deeply therapeutic.”
    “Fine, I’ll keep it on,” I said to appease her. I was just keeping it on the list to make her happy, right? And I was definitely not thinking of Sam as I wrote it.
     
    “Good! Now after you accomplish those things, you’ll be tackling some even harder triggers: Ride in a car. Drive a car yourself …” She watched my expression. “Keep writing, Catherine, you’ll get through this.”
    I knew she could see what I felt, the terror that was now coursing through me, consuming me, sucking my soul further into the black hole I worked so hard to keep it from going into.
    “Breathe. You don’t have to run out and do all of these things tomorrow. Just one day at a time. One goal, one step, and the next won’t be as hard.”
    I nodded silently and wrote the goals she had listed.
    “Then go after something you’ve always