Shameless (The Therapist #2)

fault,” I fire back. “But you're here and it affects you, too. It has affected you. Maybe that’s why you allowed yourself to become so distant from me. Maybe you could sense that I’m unsure about us… that I’m unsure about what I want.”
“Wow. Well, there it is,” Brandon barks, still in his feelings. “You just said it, didn't you, Tessa? You're unsure about us. You’ve been unsure about us. That’s it right there. Is that why you didn't answer when he asked if you still like me?”
“You didn't answer either, Brandon!” I bellow, as the tears pouring from my eyes multiply.
“Oh geez. Fine, I don't fucking know if I like you or not, Tessa. I don't know. There, does that make you happy? All I know is that I’m on the verge of greatness, and I don't want to feel like I’m being dragged down by some neurotic, confused, unpleasable woman who’s going through some sort of crisis. We used to be good together, but now I think I’ve changed. You’ve changed, too, and I just don't know anymore. I don't know if I like you or not. I love who you used to be when we first started going out. At least you were fun back then.”
Dr. Colson lets out another sigh, and I know he’s frustrated with how ugly this session has become. We’re not supposed to insult each other, but it seems that’s all Brandon can do right now.
“Do you still love me?” I ask with a trembling voice.
Brandon looks at me with a deep furrow in his brow. “You're doing that on purpose,” he says.
“Doing what?”
“Trying to make me look bad,” he answers. “You're sitting over here talking about how you're not sure about this and that, but you ask me if I still love you as if I’m not allowed to be confused, too. If I say I don't love you, I look like an asshole. I’m the asshole in the room if I say no.”
“This isn't about looking good or bad, Brandon,” I try to explain the best I can with tears and emotion overtaking my face and voice. “I just want the answers we both need.”
“Bullshit, you’re trying to embarrass me, Tessa. I won’t have it. Honestly, I’m sick of this bullshit. I think that’s enough therapy for one day. I’m done. Fuck this.”
“Brandon, please don't leave,” Dr. Colson pleads, but Brandon is already up and walking toward the door. “This isn't healthy, Brandon. You can't make progress if you give up.”
“Fuck your progress,” Brandon says behind a scoff, and he doesn't slow down a single step as he walks out of the door.
Dr. Colson and I sit there for a moment, neither of us saying a word. This hasn't been easy for any of us, but today is the first time it feels like we’re putting a Band-Aid over a gunshot wound. I’ve been with Brandon for two years, and the idea that we might not make it sends shockwaves rippling through me, and I’m shaken into heavy sobs. Dr. Colson pushes a box of tissues over to my side of the table, and I take one, bringing it to my face only to cry into it.
“It’s unfortunate that he left,” Dr. Colson says. I can hear both the sympathy and annoyance in his voice.
“I’m sorry,” I blurt through ragged breathing, as I stand up to follow Brandon out. We drove here together, so I have to go, but my embarrassment is also ushering me out of the room. “I don't know when he became so angry. I’m just really sorry, Dr. Colson, on behalf of both of us.”
Dr. Colson stands up and walks over to me. He lowers his head so we’re face to face and making direct eye contact.
“You should never have to apologize on behalf of someone else,” he says. “Brandon is the one who should apologize for his behavior, not you. You can't control what he does or how he acts. You’ve been a great patient, Tessa. You're strong, and you care. You're just struggling through something a lot of people have difficulty with, and that’s knowing and accepting who you are, without considering outside opinions. That can be very hard to do when you feel the weight of people’s judgement putting pressure on you. But, no matter what happens next for you two, I’m here to talk if you need me. All you have to do is call. I hope to see you back here next week.”
I don't know how to respond. The tears are too thick and my emotions are running too wild. As Dr. Colson escorts me to the door to his office, I simply nod at him, and step over the threshold into a world of uncertainty.

Chapter Three
~ Tessa ~
The ride home was quiet—just the sound of the engine and breathing. We didn't even look at each other, and once we made it back to my place, Brandon only stopped in the driveway long enough for me to climb out, then he drove away without as much as a peek in my direction. We don't live together, so he decided to go back to his place, which was probably for the best. Over the next two days, not a single text was sent to my phone from him, nor did he receive one from me.
In our two days apart, I took time off from work and sat in my apartment alone. It was all I wanted to do, and the words of Dr. Colson kept playing in my head like a sad song on repeat. You're struggling with knowing and accepting who you are without considering outside opinions. He’s never been more right, but in my time alone, the only thing I could focus on was my own confusion.
I still don't know how we got here, or where I’m supposed to go next. Nothing has changed for me since we left Dr. Colson’s office, so when Brandon called and asked if he