"I'm very sorry."

I couldn't differentiate between reality and hallucinations, I couldn't tell if the most powerful man I knew was actually standing in front of me, his eyes on the verge of tearing, his orbs red, and his once bright face so pale, you could see his veins on each side of his forehead.

The black bags underneath his eyes screamed lack of sleep and heavy drinking, his body emitting weakness.

It was clear he took days off of work, for no therapist could treat a patient when they, themselves lack peace inside them.

I didn't know what to say, I couldn't untie my stubborn tongue. All I was capable of doing was hugging his body tightly, feeling his chest pressed to mine, and simply pouring out my held back tears.

And I knew too well he was crying too, either in sorrow or in relief I didn't push him away.

I could never push him away, for he is the only torch I could proudly hold through the tunnel of my dull life.

I wasn't mad at him for pushing me away, either. I wasn't hurt when he neglected everything that happened personally between us.

And I know I might be a very naive girl, but I also know too well that if it was Jackson in his place, my state wouldn't have been as bad as it was before this specific moment.

"I swear I didn't mean it, Lia. I swear to god I regret it all. Please, Lia. Please forgive me."

"I'm not mad at you," I hugged him tighter feeling his tears on my head, letting his croaked voice ring through my mind, and wander into my thoughts. "Nor am I sad or upset or even disappointed at you. I missed you, Ross. I missed you way too much."

We cried in each other's arms for what seemed like ages, forgetting the chilly weather, forgetting the door open, forgetting that Jackson lives right next door, forgetting that we are vulnerable.

"I missed you, too," his shaky voice trembled, tickling my shoulder when his head rested against my neck.

I wasn't panicking the way I would be if any other person was in his place. I wasn't anxious, either. It simply felt safe, perfectly calm in his wide arms and against his broad chest.

His sobs calmed down before mine, his big hands now on my neck, letting his thumb brush against my skin.

It felt wrong, just the way it did every time our unequal lips kissed...but it also felt right, just the way it did every time a shock runs from his lips to mine.

I didn't want to pull away from his embrace, just the way I never wanted our kisses to end.

"How could something so wrong feel so right?" He rather read my mind, making my eyes tear slowly once more.

And as much as I wanted to tell him exactly how I felt the moment these words slipped out of his quivering lips, I shut my clear mind and simply enjoyed the way his breath felt against me.

***********

"...and it just scared me; being this close to a patient of mine. It was like I was treating you, by having you treat me. The thought of that alone scared me. The fact that you knew my past, that I let it all out to you, it simply frightened me."

"Why?"

Perhaps I knew the answer to my question..but the look he gave me said otherwise.

"Because I felt vulnerable. I felt exposed...I felt naked. And I had sworn to my life to never make myself feel weak ever again," he placed his glasses on the coffee table, his hands emphasizing his sleepless nights when it shook lightly. "Because I believed that every single person I meet is ought to hurt me in a way, and being weak would just make it a lot easier to do so."

" I'm not going to hurt you, Ross," I looked up into his hazel eyes, watching him nod, smiling lightly..but the stare alone exposed him and all I saw in his eyes were scars from me..because I already did hurt him. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your-"

"I'm sorry I made you feel that way," I cut him off, biting the inside of my bottom lip when his hands brushed over mine.

"Can we simply pretend every mess up never existed?" His lips pursed in a thin line when my body shivered in disappointment.

Every mess up between us was a way of building my shattered heart, letting them go would cause another accident.

"Okay," I mumbled before bringing my arms around his neck in a hug. I could sense his dropped jaw, know he wasn't expecting my gesture at all, but I guess that made him lean in more. His arms hugged my waist and his damp lips lingered on my ear.

And I suddenly remembered when he ordered me to never hesitate on asking for a hug...perhaps sometimes therapists need hugs from their patients.

"Don't let go," I mumbled, my eyes closed in complete relief.

I knew he wasn't going to, but I wanted him to know that I never wanted him to let go.

"I won't," he whispered, pulling me in tighter into his warmth.

It felt like heaven, being in such warm, broad arms...feeling such closure, care, safety.

I didn't know what it was that made me very attached to him..I simply don't want to experience feeling unsafe, and if that requires having him with me, then so be it.

I didn't know how my body was feeling, and I didn't know what my heart was telling me either, I only knew he meant the world to me, and I meant life to him.

🙃

❤️😂