Sleeping With My Best Friend - (Complete)

Chapter 22 - Talking to a Therapist

The next morning was Monday and they had to be getting back to Boston, so they both got up early. They milled around the beach house in silence, cleaning everything up. Dean took the trash out and cleaned up the kitchen while Berkley cleaned the bathrooms and got the blood stain out of his Aunt's mattress using a homemade recipe she found online. She left his Aunt's dress hanging in the bathroom, just like she had asked her to, while he packed all their stuff into his car.

On the four hour drive back to Boston Dean just listened to music and didn't press her to talk, which she appreciated. Somehow he always knew when she just wanted to be left alone. She was able to finish up the rest of her report and study for one of the tests she had coming up, before she decided she was too tired and emotionally exhausted to do any more. She put her books up and leaned her head against the passenger side door, closing her eyes and sleeping the rest of the way.

When they got back to Boston, he pulled up outside her dorm and popped the trunk before they both got out. They still hadn't spoken more than a couple words to each other.

She felt empty, tired, and depressed. The nightmare about her Mom last night, on top of having her heart broken was more than she could mentally handle.

He lifted her suitcase out for her and as she turned to walk away, he called out, "Berkley".

She turned to face him and in a hoarse, broken voice she asked, "Yeah?"

She could tell by the way he looked into her eyes that he was really worried about her.

Somehow he could tell how much she was struggling and how much she needed him right now. He stepped forward and pulled her into a hug, holding her like he wanted to take all her pain away, but even hugging Dean couldn't fix it, not this time.

She stepped back and looked down at the ground for a few seconds before saying quietly, "I ummm. I decided I'm gonna call that therapist your Mom suggested. I'm hoping maybe she can figure out how to make my nightmares stop." She took a deep breath in and let out a sigh. "Because I honestly don't know how much more of this I can handle."

For her, admitting that was a big deal. She had a bad habit of putting on a tough face and acting like everything was okay, even when it wasn't.

She finally lifted her head and he was giving her a sympathetic look. "I think that's a good idea Berk," he said with a weak smile.

She nodded and said, "Yeah. I think so too. I'm actually gonna go call her right now. I'll ummm, I'll talk to you later," she said, giving him a weak wave before slinging her bag up over her shoulder and heading inside.

When she got up to her dorm room, she flopped onto her bed with a deep exhale and looked at the business card for the therapist she had been carrying around in her wallet for months. It was on black card stock with pink swirls around the edges.

She got out her phone and dialed the number and a woman answered, "Hello, this is Dr. Kimberly Price. I don't recognize this number. Who am I speaking with?"

"Oh ummm. This is Berkley Lansing. I'm surprised you answered. I thought I was gonna have to just leave a message since it's Labor Day," she said anxiously. She hadn't been mentally prepared for her to actually answer.

"Well, this is my twenty four hour emergency line honey. My clients take comfort in the fact that I'm available any time day or night if they really need me. Obviously this system works because people only use this number for real emergencies."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I was referred to you by Katherine Bradshaw and I didn't realize the number on the card she gave me was only for emergencies. I'm sorry I bothered you on your day off. I can ummm, I can just call back tomorrow."