Chapter 333

Olivia

The therapist’s office had a calming energy, filled with muted colors and soft, plush chairs that seemed designed to absorb tension. A diffuser filled the air with a faint scent of lavender, adding to the tranquil atmosphere.

Despite this, my wolf was pacing inside of me, just as uneasy and restless as I felt at that moment.

When Nathan had first told me that he wanted to try therapy, I was utterly taken aback. He had seemed so averse to the idea when we took our trip to the city, and yet now here he was, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks for our first appointment.

“I want to make a good impression,” he had said that morning as we were getting ready. “If this therapist is gonna become… well, ‘our’ therapist, then I want to create a nice image.”

I had chuckled. “Nathan, it’s therapy, not a job interview,” I had teased. “You can relax. Really.”

It was clear to me that Nathan had never been to therapy in his life. I had gone for a few years during and after college, when I needed someone to talk to about my home life. It was really helpful. I just hoped that Nathan had the same sentiments after today.

Nathan was beside me, his hand enveloping mine as if he could squeeze away my apprehensions. It wasn’t our first time discussing our issues with someone else, but doing it with a therapist instead of a friend was a lot different—more official, to put it plainly.

The door opened, and the therapist walked in. She was an older woman with short blonde hair and an official, yet warm, look about her. “Hi, I’m Dr. Lewis. You must be Olivia and Nathan. Why don’t you two come in and take a seat?”

Nathan and I walked into the office and sat down on the plush couch, still holding hands, but the tension between us was palpable.

It wasn’t just about being here, in a therapist’s office; it was about why we had to be here in the first place.

“So, what brings you two here today?” Dr. Lewis began, sitting across from us, her pen poised over her notebook.

Clearing my throat, I started. “We… have a complicated family situation. We lead a, um, tight-knit community, and we’re parents to twins. Another baby is on the way, and well, let’s just say external pressures have strained our relationship.”

The therapist nodded, scribbling down a few words. “When you say ‘external pressures,’ can you elaborate?”

Nathan glanced at me before taking over. “Olivia returned to our community after being away for a very long time. Her return brought about changes, challenges, and a series of events that have had lasting impacts.”

“Yeah,” I interjected, sensing the slight edge in Nathan’s voice. “Returning wasn’t easy. People change, situations evolve, and not always for the better.”

Dr. Lewis looked from me to Nathan and back again. “Would you say the two of you have been a team in facing these challenges?”

“We’ve tried,” Nathan said, almost too quickly. “It feels like it’s always been us against the world, but sometimes the decisions made for the ‘greater good’ are the ones that come back to haunt us.”

I felt a twinge of irritation at his words and had to hold back from snapping at him. “Yeah, well, sometimes, you have to make tough calls, especially when it feels like you’ve been cornered. Not every choice is black and white.”

Dr. Lewis sensed the brewing tension and navigated cautiously. “It sounds like there have been specific situations that you don’t agree on. Have these events affected your ability to trust one another?”

Nathan sighed, and for a moment, his grip on my hand loosened before tightening again. “Trust isn’t the issue. It’s the lingering repercussions of… certain choices that worry me.”

“And I believe those choices were necessary,” I retorted, unable to mask my growing frustration entirely.

“I’m sensing some unresolved tension here,” Dr. Lewis observed, still jotting down notes. “Is this something immediate? Something that poses a threat to your family?”

Nathan and I exchanged a look, both hesitant to divulge too much. Finally, Nathan spoke. “Let’s just say someone outside our family wants to exert influence in a harmful way. It’s not just a trivial issue; it’s serious.”

I felt compelled to add, “And that influence is something I thought I could manage, for the sake of our family, our community.”

Nathan turned to me, his eyes filled with a complicated mix of love and exasperation. “But at what cost, Liv? Are we really better off now?”

Dr. Lewis looked increasingly intrigued, albeit a bit confused. “It sounds like a significant conflict, affecting not just you two but your broader community. While we can’t unpack all of this today, what we can do is explore better ways for you both to handle conflicts, make decisions, and communicate more effectively.”

“So what do you suggest?” Nathan and I both said, almost in unison.

…

The air was thick with an unspoken tension as Nathan and I stepped out of Dr. Lewis’ office. Our footsteps seemed to echo in the sterile hallway, bouncing off the walls adorned with generic inspirational quotes framed in cheap wood.

“Believe in Yourself,” one quote said, as if three words could magically untangle the mess of emotions inside of me.

We got to the car, the tension between us as palpable as the late summer heat outside. The atmosphere had that weird heaviness, like the world was holding its breath for a storm to break out.

The scent of leather and that new car air freshener tried to mask the lingering scent of our wolves—both of them on edge. Nathan inserted the key and brought the engine to life, the vibration underneath my seat somehow grounding me.

The silence wasn’t broken until we were both buckled in. I chanced a glance at Nathan, who was obviously trying not to look at the pamphlets and worksheets Dr. Lewis had given us.

“Homework,” she had said as she handed them to us. “I’d like you to complete these before our session next week. And remember to be open. It’ll be fun, trust me.”

I held the sheets in my hand now with tight knuckles, and Nathan held the steering wheel in an oddly similar manner.

“Are you okay?” I finally broke the silence, my voice barely above a whisper.

He looked up, and for a second, I saw a flicker of something I couldn’t quite place. Worry? Resignation? Before I could figure it out, he had masked it with that all-too-familiar stoic expression.

“Yeah,” he answered, but his voice lacked conviction. “I’m fine.”

“Are you—”

“I said I’m fine, Liv.”

I winced. “Okay. Geez.”

The car ride home was silent, save for the sound of the staticky radio flickering to live and the car engine humming. When we finally pulled into our driveway, I felt a strangely conflicting mixture of relief and worry seeping into my skin.

“I’m sorry,” Nathan said after a beat as he put the car in park and pulled the keys out of the ignition. “I didn’t mean to snap at you earlier.”

I nodded, softening a bit as his blue-green gaze met mine. “It’s fine,” I said gently. But there was still something in his eyes as he looked at me, something that set me with unease.

“What’s going through your head?” I ventured further, my hands still gripping the pamphlets. “Remember, Dr. Lewis said—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nathan huffed, turning to look out the window. “‘Be open’. I remember. She said it like a million times.”

I furrowed my brow. “What’s your problem? I thought she was great.”

“Yeah, she was fine.” Nathan’s fingers drummed on the steering wheel before he finally turned back to look at me, but his eyes showed me that this was anything but ‘fine’.

“Be honest,” I murmured.

Nathan sighed and threw his hands up in the air. “This is all so silly, Liv. I don’t want to go to therapy anymore.”