Dolores steps into the kitchen the following morning, looks over at me briefly before saying, "Well, you look like shit."

     "Cas is back," I respond simply, staring down at the cup of coffee in front of me.

     "Oh," she says quickly, surprised. "Really? You saw him? What happened?"

     "He was here. Last night."

     "Why didn't you get me, Dresden?" she exclaims.

     "I was a little preoccupied fielding the giant fuck you being thrown at me." I don't mean to say it, but it's out before I can even give it a second thought. 

     And Dolores sighs, all sympathetic, which is not what I'm looking for. I finish the last of my coffee before I get up. I have an appointment with Ashley. She catches my arm, saying, "Look, start by apologizing. Explain yourself. He'll forgive you. It's Cas, after all."

     It's not Cas. And I don't expect it to be. Not after five years, not after everything I did and said, and didn't say. 

     "I have to go," I say instead. "I have an appointment. You can let Charles know I've got the first batches done already. They just need to be decorated."

     I'm halfway to the door when Dolores says, "Look, Dresden, it's no secret I've been angry with you for how you chose to end things with that boy."

     I snort. Angry being the understatement of the last five years.

     "But," Dolores adds. "That's because I'm your mother and I want what's best for you and I think you ran from what was right. And now you've got a second chance here."

     "Dolores," I warn because the last thing I need is for her to get her hopes up about some kind of reconciliation. The last thing I need is for her to get my hopes up.

     She holds up her hands. "I'm not getting involved this time or caught in the middle of you two. But I'd be remiss not to point out the obvious. You have not been the same since he left. And not everybody gets the opportunity to right their wrongs. So do with that what you will."

     "Okay, well, thanks for that, I guess," I say. "I've gotta go."

     Ashley's office is still in the hospital, on the eleventh floor out of the Behavioral Health Ward. I'm her first session of the day and beat her in. "She should be here soon," Pierce, her assistant, says but I wave him off. He knows I always get here before she does. 

     "Morning, Dresden," she says when she enters the office a few minutes later. She's carrying her purse, a bigger satchel, and a brown bag from Whole Foods. Lately, she's been eating all organic, even switched to decaf, which she complains about often enough. It's because she's pregnant but I'm not supposed to know that, yet. She hasn't announced it.

     "Here, let me," I say as I move to help her carry her things.

     I follow her into her office and set her bags down at her desk. She's in the corner of the building and there's enough windows to naturally light the room up. I can look out and see where the forest line begins, the murky blue-green of the trees reaching up towards the sky.

     I sit down on the chaise and wait for her to get settled, hunching over with my elbows balanced on my knees.

     "These early mornings get harder the closer we get to winter," she's saying as she arranges her desk.

     "It's hardly fall," I respond.

     "Well, with how cool it's been, it feels like winter. Okay, I'm ready." She opens her notebook and then looks up at me. Her eyebrow goes up questioningly. "You didn't sleep well last night?"

     I've evidently got the most reactive under eyes.

     "Cas is back," I tell her.

     "Oh," she says, clearly surprised. "Oh wow. So that's unexpected, right?"

     "I'll say," I remark my tone bordering on disgruntled.

     "And you saw him?" she asks.

     I nod. "He showed up at Weston's last night."

     She nods slowly. "How did that go?"

     I hum, thoughtfully. "Probably the exact way it should've gone given the fact I've been lying to him for the last five years."

     Ashley's lip puckers the way it always does when she's thinking but simultaneously making a summation. She has years of experience, but also just years of experience with me. Having someone know me the way she does is both daunting and comforting. I can't hide with her the way I can with others.

     "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

     "I was told in no uncertain terms to fuck off."

     "He's upset with you. Are you upset with him?"

     "I have no reason to be upset with him," I say.

     "Maybe, but our feelings don't always mirror logic. We're free to feel how we want about a situation. You can be upset just because the situation is unexpected and brings up old feelings."

    She lets me sit with her words and I think about it. And of course she's right. I'm not upset with Cas. I'm upset with what his presence does, the physical reminder of the ways in which I fucked up, how I allowed the parts of me I hate to ruin something I loved. So maybe I'm a little upset with Cas. But I don't want to be.

     Ashley goes, "How did you feel, seeing him again?"

     I dodge her question, saying instead, "I wonder...if there was ever a right way to do what I did. I mean, I imagine that there was. And I regret that I — I know it was wrong. But I also know it was right, too. Because what kind of life could he have had if he stayed, if I'd held him here. He needed to leave because he deserved so much more than this. Than this little life. So much more than me. And he got it, right? Despite everything I put him through... He graduated with honors. He was accepted into an accelerated PA program. They only accept twelve students into the program each year. It was wrong, I know that but he's better off because of it."

    I clear my throat, blinking hard against the burn in my eyes.

     "You're enough, Dresden," Ashley says in that voice that is so raw and honest it almost always brings me to tears. I hate that voice, hate when she uses it on me. Especially when she says things like that. But then, I've backslid into self depracation like it's an old sweater, worn down but still waiting at the bottom of my dresser, which I know she doesn't like, so maybe that's just what we're doing today. Things we both hate.

     "You're deserving of forgiveness," she says next and that doesn't land well either. My throat's on fire and I breathe against it. This is not the session I expected to be having today.

     "I'm really not," I say sort of helplessly. I want to laugh, maybe, to ease the tension. There's a stitch in Ashley's eyebrow like she's highly distressed.

     She presses her hands down against her desk, looks at me levelly. "Five years ago, you made a choice. And you can't change that choice anymore than you can turn back time. Sometimes we hurt the people we care about the most. That doesn't make you a bad person. It doesn't make you a monster."

     I'm nodding my head as I say, "Well Dolores thinks I need to right my wrongs."

     Ashley grimaces but tries to hide it. We've unpacked my relationship with Dolores and my late father extensively. She wanted me to have some joint sessions with Dolores but Dolores refused. I've resigned myself to never healing my relationship with her. We'll always have trauma, I suppose.

     "So we're listening to Dolores now, who's been icing you out for the last five years?" She gives me a wary look.

     "I don't know," I say quickly. "I think I owe Cas an apology. I owe him more than that but it's all I've got. I just want him to understand why I did it. That all I ever wanted was for him to be happy and to have the opportunity to explore life."

     "What do you mean by explore life?"

     I breathe uneasily. "I don't know. Travel and date and be young and crazy. I never had the college experience. I wanted that for him."

     "Did you ever ask Cas what he wanted?" she asks but she knows I didn't. I didn't give Cas a choice to want anything because I didn't want to be factored in, I didn't want to be an option.

     "No," I mumble.

     "Maybe that's what you need to apologize for," she offers next.

      "Okay, so I apologize to him and then what happens?"

     "He either accepts your apology or he doesn't. You should be prepared for both responses. But once you've apologized, you need to let it go."

     She says let it go, but all I hear is let him go. And maybe that's what's holding me back, has held me back all this time, is part of the reason I never responded to his letters, and never stopped reading them. Because I haven't been ready to let him go. I'll never be ready.

     "I'm going to say this very plainly, Dresden. Because you're stubborn — you and I both know this. Do not sacrifice your own well being for Cas. You've worked hard on yourself these last fews year. Don't undo that work because he's back."

     "Okay," I say and it's a good lie.

     Ashley's lips are very puckered now. "Maybe we should go back to meeting once a week again. Just while we acclimate to Cas's return. We can do Thursdays mornings?"

     "No," I say, standing. "I don't think I need to. I feel good. I feel like I have clarity about everything."

     "Okay, well, at least think about it. And if you're having a hard week, or something happens, we can always fit in a session."

     "Ashley, don't worry. I'm really okay."

     "You're saying that, but how many hours of sleep did you get last night? You know you've been working hard to get your new Weston project up and it's a lot. If you're not getting proper rest, you're going to burn out, like you did before."

     The muscles in my face pull tight. I can feel the strain in my eyebrow and mouth. "That isn't going to happen again," I respond, my voice deeper than I wanted. I take a breath, trying to remove myself from the memory. "You said I needed to have one day that is absolutely designated to not working and I do. Cas being back isn't going to derail this project. If anything it'll be good to have something else to focus on."

     "I know you think I'm being overly cautious but it's my job to worry about you."

      "I thought your job was to help me move past my past and be less self-sacrificing."

     "Those are also my jobs. I wear a lot of hats with you."

     "If things get worse, I'll come in more often. But I don't think we're there yet."

     She leans back in her seat, the movement meant to be pacifying, I think. "Okay. I trust you."

     To make light of things, I say, "If you really trusted me, you'd have told me you were pregnant already."

     Ashley's eyes get wide and she leans forward again, her mouth falling open in shock. "Dresden!"

     I grin. "I'll pretend to be surprised when you do finally decide to announce it."

     She smiles back. "I'm barely in my second trimester, thank you very much."

     "Do you know who the father is?"

     She laughs loudly. "I'm going tell Ibrahim you said that."

     "I'm just checking. Pierce could've been an option."

     She's flushing now. "I think you have better chances with him."

     "Are you giving me permission to date your assistant, doc?"

     She rolls her eyes. "Would it matter if I were? You haven't dated anybody in the last five years."

     "That you know," I say pointedly.

     "Am I wrong?"

     "I'm leaving now," I say with a huff.

     Ashley's laughing quietly as she responds, "I'll see you in two weeks."

     I take the stairs down, even though its eleven flights. I'm feeling anxious and getting my heart rate up gives me something else to focus on. The stairwell peels off into the main lobby. I pass the front desk, nodding at Terence, who I know because I see him often, but not because we talk or are friendly.

     The stairs were a relief, but not by much. I'm unfocused as I head out the door and nearly collide with Cas. He's coming up the walkway, staring down at the cell phone in his hand. I halt with just a foot of space between us.

     He looks up, surprised, and says, "Oh."

     "Hi," I respond trying to keep my tone even as my stomach drops.

     "What're you doing here?" he asks pointedly. He's wearing the same coat I saw him in last night. It's open and I can see the flaps of a white lab coat underneath. He's in dark blue scrubs and his hair is freshly tousled, the strands smooth and glossy like they should be in an ad and not on his head.

     "I had an appointment," I respond, distracted. "You work here?"

     "Yes," he snaps and then he steps around me, walking past without another word.

     "Great talking to you, too," I mutter quietly.