Better than good.

Fantastic even.

And that wasn’t right.

I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

Not when I was still convinced that there was something seriously wrong with me.

But it was hard to focus on my looming health crisis when Beckett Kingsley made me feel so fantastic.

“I’m pretty good today actually,” I answered truthfully.

Dr. Harrison looked relieved. “That’s great, Corin. I’m really glad to hear that. Because your tests came back normal. Just like all the others we’ve run.”

“Oh really?” I asked weakly. I wasn’t testy or defensive. I felt only resigned. Unsurprised.

“It means we have to look at other possible causes for your ongoing symptoms. We spoke briefly at an earlier appointment about how stress can mask itself as heart problems. Psychosomatic ailments can be debilitating—”

I held up my hand, stopping him.

“We are not going there again.” The mention of “psychosomatic” made me think about knives and stabbing.

“I don’t want to upset you, Corin, I just think this could be a legitimate cause to what’s been going on with you. I know your previous doctor suggested the same thing—”

“Hold on, back that truck right up there, doc. How would you know what my last doctor suggested?”

“After getting your blood test results back yesterday, I put in a call to Dr. Graham to discuss if there was something I was missing in regards to making a diagnosis. He was your doctor for many years, am I correct?”

“Yes he was. Was being the operative word. How can you just call Dr. Graham and talk to him about me?” I demanded.

“You signed a consent to release information form, Corin. That included me being able to discuss your patient history with your former doctor. I wasn’t doing something subversive or sneaky. I wanted to have a better understanding of how to help you. And considering Dr. Graham had been your family physician since you were a child, I figured he was the perfect place to start.”

Dr. Harrison folded his hands between his knees and leaned forward. He really worked the whole I’m-a-swell-guy-let’s-go-have-a-beer thing. It annoyed me.

“Okay, so you were all Chatty Cathy with my former doctor. What insight do you think that gave you?” I sneered.

“For starters, he told me about your parents. Their medical histories. I understand that both of them passed in rather quick succession when you were young. Dr. Graham also informed me that you assumed the role of carer for your father in the later stages of his illness.”

My eyes burned and I had to look out the window, blinking furiously. “Yeah, well, it’s not a secret,” I muttered.

“That has to have a significant impact on a person. That’s a lot of grief to experience, especially in someone so young,” Dr. Harrison remarked kindly.

I shrugged. “Yeah, well, I lived through it and moved on.”

“Have you?” he asked pointedly, and I went rigid.

“I know what you’re going to say. It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” I said, beating him to the punch.

“What am I going to say?” he questioned.

“That I haven’t really coped with losing my parents and that these illnesses are a manifestation of my grief. I’ve become preoccupied with dying because I watched the people I love die.”

“It sounds like you’ve put a lot of thought into this, Corin,” Dr. Harrison broached gently.

I looked back at him and was surprised that there was no sympathy on his face. Just curiosity maybe. “Like I said, it’s nothing I haven’t heard before. But I know I’m sick. It’s my body. Don’t you think I know when something’s not right?” My voice rose and I struggled to not scream in exasperation.

“I think you are a woman who has been through a lot and has become fixated on your health in order to not focus on the things you need to deal with. The death of your parents.”

“Are you a therapist as well? Will I be double billed for this?” I asked dryly.

“No, I’m not a therapist. But you’re not the first hypochondriac I’ve treated. I know that the mind can make you believe all sorts of things that aren’t real. I know that you feel something’s wrong. But I can also tell you that in my professional opinion, there’s nothing wrong.”

I closed my eyes and tried not to cry. I was back at square one. I couldn’t keep changing doctors. What was I going to do?

“Let me ask you this, you said you felt better this morning. Why is that?”

I opened my eyes and went back to staring out the window. “I don’t know,” I replied dully.

“Well, think. What was different about this morning? Was there a change in your routine?”

I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so,” I admitted.

“You were concentrating on something besides your health. Besides being potentially ill. Am I right?”

I nodded.

“And didn’t you feel better for it? Not focusing on being sick?”

I nodded again. I couldn’t find my voice.

Because the man was right. I felt great. Up until I walked into the doctor’s office.

“Don’t you deserve to feel better all the time? Instead of fixating on what’s wrong with you. To focus on what’s right.”

I snorted. I couldn’t help it. He sounded so much like Beckett that it was funny. They were both force-feeding me their Cracker Jack wisdom whether I liked it or not.

Dr. Harrison wheeled back over to his desk and wrote something down on a piece of paper and handed it to me.

I looked down at what he had written. Chris Riley, LPC.

“Christopher Riley is one of the best therapists in the area.”

I folded the paper and tried to hand it back to him.

“I have a collection of these, Dr. Harrison—thanks, though.”

Dr. Harrison wouldn’t take the paper. “Chris specializes in bereavement. He works extensively with people who have lost loved ones. He also runs several support groups if that’s more of your thing.”

“So you’re saying I’m fine.”

Dr. Harrison nodded.

“There’s nothing physically wrong with you, Corin.”

“My heart’s okay,” I continued.

“A little broken maybe, but other than that, it’s working just fine.” Dr. Harrison’s smile was sad.

I got down from the exam table and looked at the name and number on the paper again. “So there’s nothing you can do for me?”

Dr. Harrison pointed at the paper in my hand. “That right there is what I can do for you. I hope you call him. I truly think it will help you more than any medicine ever could.”

I tucked the paper into my pocket. “Okay, well, thanks, Dr. Harrison,” I said as he got to his feet.

“I’m always here, Corin. But promise me you’ll at least think about calling Chris.”

“Yeah. I will,” I agreed, not sure I really meant it.

Dr. Harrison gave me a rather nice smile and walked me out of the office, following me into the waiting room. “Bye, Corin.”

“Bye,” I replied. I waved at Lynn and left, not sure how I felt.

It felt almost like acceptance.

Like maybe I couldn’t run any longer from the very real possibility that this was all in my head.

Chapter 19

Beckett

“Are you going to say anything? Or should I introduce you as my mute girlfriend?”

Corin gave me a sideways smile. She looked a little green around the gills.

I was beginning to think the whole “take Corin to meet the family” thing wasn’t such a great idea.

Even though she had assured me she was excited to meet them, I knew she was freaking out. I could tell by the way she was wringing her hands in her lap.