We Were Free

Chapter 54

I went to a therapist for the first time in my life and I felt amazing. I felt like a lift was lifted off my shoulders when I left because of how good it felt to talk about our relationship, the physical abuse, what happened at the office-everything. I spilled my heart out to a guy that had no clue who I was but made me feel like I knew him since I had been alive.

He did though officially diagnose me with depression, anxiety, and PTSD. He gave me a prescription for the anxiety of everything and nothing else. I refused to take depression medicine. It fucks with so much that it scared me to even attempt to take it.

When I got home after getting my medicine, Jake looked up at me from the couch and smiled weakly.

"How was it?" He asked and I walked over to him and handed him my script. He opened it and looked at the bottle.

"You got the good stuff." He said and I chuckled and rolled my eyes.

"He diagnosed me with depression, anxiety, and PTSD." I said and his eyes softened.

"Blaire." He said softly.

"It's okay-it doesn't bother me, you know? I'm happy I asked for help. I'm happy you didn't judge me for getting it and supported me with it. That's what I need. You don't understand how much I appreciate you for supporting me." I said.

"I know but-I'm sorry. It's my fault. I'm so sorry." He said.

"It's not your fault at all. You could have never controlled what happened-and I've had depression and anxiety way before that. I'm just now making myself be better. I want to be happier so bad. For us." I said and he pulled me into him. He kissed my forehead and I held him tightly.

"I love you so much." I said.

"I love you, too. It's just a rough patch for us. I'm happy you're talking about it and that it makes you feel better." He said and there was coke on the table. Not a lot, but it was obvious he had done it and left some of the residue on the table and didn't care.

"Clean that up." I said and motioned to the table.

"I will-I just did it before you walked in. Sorry." He said and I rolled my eyes.

"Hey. I'm sorry." He said softly.

"It's fine." I said and he put his hand on my thigh and rubbed it.

"Do you want to get high again?" He asked.

"No." I said and he nodded.

"I'm so high." He chuckled and I could feel his hand shaking against my thigh as he rubbed it. I hated when he was that fucked up. He probably barely listened to me when I talked to him.

"You're so annoying, Jake." I sighed and got up.

"I didn't even do anything." He said.

"You don't care about what I said-"

"I care. I listened to you. Blaire-I'm the one that told you to get help because you need it. I'm happy for you. I want you to get better. I want to love you and not have you scared of anything or to be upset constantly. Just relax. It just hit me because I did it right before you walked in. When you were talking to me I was fine." He said and I sighed.

"You promise?" I asked.

"I swear." He said and I nodded slowly. He pulled his hand away and put it in his lap and I looked over at him.

"You're shaking." I said.

"I know. I'm really fucking high." He said and I grabbed his hands and held them.