Lost in You

about what you talk about. Your assistant, Alex, was very clear about what you expect.”
    Her voice is smooth and the words tumble out in a gentle cadence; it’s amazing how she eased so many worries just like that. I sit back, a little bit more comfortable. She doesn’t smile or even change her position. She’s good at her job and she knows it.
    “You like black?” I didn’t mean this as a question, more of a statement, but didn’t know how to end my thought.
    “Believe it or not, it’s calming. If everything was white, you’d think clinical and hospital and you wouldn’t want to talk. Red brings out anger and yellow makes it seem like I’m forcing you to be happy. Black allows you to be relaxed.”
    “Some would say black is death.”
    “Some would, but it gets people talking.”
    She’s right, I want to talk and I do. I start with Coleman and tell her everything. How we met, fell in love and I thought I had found the one for me until I caught him with someone else.
    “But when I met Ryan… my soul knew he was the one I was destined to be with, but everything was against us.”
    “Like what?” she writes down something, asking her question without looking at me.
    “Completely different lifestyles and not just because of my job, but we were even raised differently. My parents doted on me where his didn’t acknowledge he was around. It was hard for me to see him not have basic necessities, like new clothes. I wanted to take care of him, but knew he’d never accept my help.”
    “It’s not uncommon for people to come from different social economical classes and have one want to take care of the other.”
    I shrug. I think Ryan would’ve been okay if I bought him more, but he would’ve gotten into trouble.
    “It’s not just social status. There’s an age difference.”
    “What is it?”
    “Five years.”
    Dr. Patrick adjusts in her seat, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs. “Five years isn’t that big of a gap, Hadley. Many people have an age difference larger and make it work.”
    “He was seventeen when we dated.” I drop my eyes before I can see the look on her face. I don’t need to know that she doesn’t approve even though she doesn’t know us. I can hear her pen moving across the page, that’s how quiet it is in here. There isn’t the sound of a clock with its tick tock, tick tock to break the silence. Not even a bird outside chirping. Just the sound of writing as she puts down all the questions she’s going to ask.
    “How did his parents feel?”
    I rub my hands down my pants. They’re sweating and I know she’s going to judge me. I should feel ashamed, but I don’t. I love him. I’ll wait a lifetime to see him again if I have to. “Only his mom knew, but she didn’t approve. No one approved except my friend, Alex, and she still had her reservations. Like I said, we were doomed from the moment we met.”
    “When was the last time you spoke with him?”
    “That’s just it,” I say, shaking my head. “We got arrested when I went to visit him and my manager made a deal with the police, or whoever, that they wouldn’t charge Ryan with assaulting an officer. In exchange, Ryan signed a no-contact order stating he couldn’t contact me until he turned eighteen.”
    “When is that?”
    “Six months ago.”
    Dr. Patrick sets down her notepad and leans forward slightly. “So what’s keeping you from reaching out to him?”
    I readjust and sit more comfortably on her leather couch. I know why doctors use couches: it’s so you can lie down and tell them your woes and feel better about yourself while you’re encased in fine Italian leather.
    “I had bought him a phone and turned it off so I wouldn’t be tempted. On his birthday, I'd had enough and needed to hear his voice, but he never answered. He never replied or read my text messages. The message is clear, I just can’t let go.”
    “What about going to visit him?”
    “He ran away the day after all this happened.” I shake my head, fighting the tears to no avail. I wipe at my cheeks, roughly, needing the pain to feel human. “I don’t know where he is. I lost him because of the people in my life. My manager made him sign that stupid form and I lost him.”
    She stands and hands me a tissue. I’m surprised I’m able to smile and thank her.
    “Tell me about your manager.”
    “He’s my uncle and he’s an idiot. His contract is up soon and I’m really thinking it’s time we part ways. He’s good