Chapter 312
“Then at least I’ll know I tried.” His gaze was unwavering, steady with conviction. “If I don’t even have the courage to fight for the girl I like, then I have no right to say I like her at all.”
Then, with a slow, knowing smirk, he raised an eyebrow. “Besides… who’s to say how this story ends?”
The next day, during her lunch break, Hadley made her way to the hospital—the same one where she’d picked up her medication before.
The doctor had been recommended by Colleen, which meant he was already somewhat familiar with her condition. He’d always been patient, understanding.
As soon as he saw her, he asked, “Are you out of medicine?”
In truth, since things had ended with Duran rather unexpectedly, she had barely touched the pills.
The doctor studied her for a moment before motioning toward the chair. “Then what brings you here today?”
Hadley exhaled and sank into the seat, her fingers curling in her lap. The thoughts that had been circling in her mind for weeks finally slipped out.
“I haven’t taken much of the medication lately… but I feel like my symptoms have eased. As long as I’m not faced with aggression, my reactions aren’t as severe. But sometimes… it still feels like I don’t have control.”
“Go on.”
“Alright.”
The doctor listened carefully before nodding. “From what you’re describing, it sounds like you’re making progress. Your body is learning when an environment is safe.”
Then, after a brief pause, he added, “Have you considered therapy? It could help. Maybe even lead to a full recovery.”
Therapy?
Hadley’s chest tightened. Psychological treatment—an expense she couldn’t even begin to afford.
She forced an easy smile. “That won’t be necessary, but I appreciate it, doctor.”
The doctor met her gaze, unconvinced but not pushy. “If you ever change your mind, you know where to find me.”
“Thank you very much, doctor. I appreciate it.”
As she stepped outside, the midday sun bore down on her, and she lifted a hand to shield her eyes.
The truth was, money wasn’t the only thing stopping her. Therapy meant peeling back layers of the past—digging up wounds she had spent years trying to bury.
And that? That was a door she refused to open. Not now. Not ever.
By five in the afternoon, Hadley was free to leave. Since she had only recently joined the studio, she hadn’t been given any performance slots yet. For now, that meant finishing on time, slipping out of her practice clothes, and heading toward the subway station without a second thought.
“Hadley!”
She turned at the sound of her name, spotting Denver jogging toward her, his signature bright smile in place.
“You’re here?” she asked, surprised. “What for?”