“And you’ve lost weight,” Dr. Lowell continued, her hawkish eyes taking in every detail. She was entirely too observant for my peace of mind.

I cleared my throat again, wishing I had a glass of water. “Yeah, I guess so,” I said.

“I’m concerned about you, Aubrey,” she remarked, her voice softening marginally.

“Concerned?” I asked, not exactly sure how I was supposed to take her proclamation.

“I know you’ve been through a lot in the last few weeks. You’ve lost your way. Veered off course. Am I using the correct euphemisms?” Her lips quirked into a more natural smile, and even though I appreciated her effort, I couldn’t reciprocate.

It was disconcerting to be read so clearly. “I suppose I have,” I said softly.

“How did you get to this point, Aubrey?” Dr. Lowell’s question was startling in its straightforwardness. I knew exactly what she was doing. She was shrinking me. She was looking at me as a patient. A client. It was mortifying to know that the strong, competent exterior I had been developing for years was nowhere to be found. I wasn’t fooling anyone anymore, least of all Dr. Lowell.

What had led me to this point? Christ, I had been wondering the same thing since I had watched Maxx fight for his life on that disgusting bathroom floor.

A thousand unanswered questions had flitted through my mind in that small space of time. In the split second it took for me to realize the man I loved was dying because of his own demons and my inability to see them, I had realized that I really didn’t know myself at all.

I rubbed the cuff bracelet with a bit more ferocity.

“I’m not sure, Dr. Lowell,” I answered, trying not to be vague, but only honest.

Dr. Lowell rubbed a red spot on the bridge of her nose from her glasses. She looked as though she had a headache. I knew my actions had affected more people than just me. That she, being my adviser, had most likely received a lot of flak for not picking up on the situation. I had put more than my future at risk by making the choices that I had. And I had been too selfish and self-absorbed to realize that.

But then, at the time, nothing had mattered but the love I had discovered with the worst possible person.

“You’re a smart young woman, Aubrey. You have a lot of potential. I’ve always appreciated how open and honest you’ve been about your history. About the ways in which your sister’s death has affected you. But perhaps we’re here through failings on my part. I put you in a position where you would be opening yourself up to things that could possibly trigger you. It was unfair of me to put that kind of pressure on you. I saw the red flags. Kristie had brought to my attention some incidents that I was too quick to dismiss. I think that at the end of the day, I’m just as culpable in this situation as you are, Aubrey.” Dr. Lowell looked tired and sad, resigned.

“Dr. Lowell, that’s not true. You’ve been nothing but supportive. I can’t thank you enough for putting faith in me in the first place. I’m the one who messed up, not you. I did something I knew was wrong and hid it from everyone,” I said, glad I was able to get that out without crying.

Dr. Lowell sat back in her chair and looked at me over the rim of her glasses. “And that, right there, is what sets you apart, Aubrey.”

“What do you mean?”

“You can’t undo what happened. The only thing I had hoped was for you to take responsibility.” Dr. Lowell took off her glasses and slowly put them down on her desk.

“I remember reading a quote back during my undergrad years that said, Adversity is the first path to truth. Over the years, I’ve found this to be the truest statement I’ve ever heard. You have to go through the hard stuff to find exactly where you need to be. And I believe that how we react in our bleakest moments is a testament to the person we really are.”

Dr. Lowell smiled again, and this time it was genuine and maybe tinged with something that looked like pride.

“You’ve impressed me, Aubrey.”

I had to be hallucinating. Was she for real? Impressed with what? My ability to make really shitty decisions?

“It would be easy for you to blame Maxx. Or to use a myriad of excuses to justify your behavior, but you haven’t done any of that. You’ve stood up and accepted your punishment and taken the lashing. It shows a true strength of character, in my opinion.”

I cleared my throat, not entirely sure what to say.

“Well, thank you,” I finally said.

“During your hearing, it was briefly discussed that you can earn your spot back in the program. I assume you’re auditing the Boundaries and Ethics class that is required of you.”

I nodded. I had handed in the necessary paperwork just that morning. My first class would be next week.

“If you follow through on the class and the supervision hours with me, the department will reassess your place at the end of the year.” Dr. Lowell looked up from the folder in her hands and met my eyes. “In spite of everything, Aubrey, I truly think that you have a place in this program.” Dr. Lowell gave me a long and steady look. “If that’s what you still want.”

I thought about what she was asking me. At one time the answer would have been a resounding yes. But my confidence had been shaken to its core. So now . . . I wasn’t so sure.

“You’re hesitating. I thought being a counselor was what you wanted to do,” Dr. Lowell said.

I looked out the window and watched students rush by on their way to classes. I had been like them once. Confident and sure in my path. But how could I be assured that my path was the right one when I had veered off course so badly?

“What if I’m not cut out for it? You said yourself that given my past, I’m easily triggered. How can I possibly help other people when I haven’t been able to help myself? What sort of person falls in love with a patient? What kind of counselor does the things I’ve done?” I asked in an agonized rush.

Dr. Lowell’s face became thoughtful.

“I’m going to use some therapy mumbo jumbo and turn this around on you.” Dr. Lowell leaned forward, her hands folded on her desk, and she peered levelly at me, her eyes dark and serious. “How would you answer those questions? Do you think you are equipped to help someone else, given your own experiences? What does your gut tell you?”

I smiled involuntarily. “It says that it’s because of my experiences that I can help someone else.” Dr. Lowell nodded in agreement. “But,” I continued, “that doesn’t change the fact that I crossed the line, Dr. Lowell. What if I mess up again?” And there was the root of my problem. I had lost confidence in myself, and I wasn’t sure I could get that back.

“I can’t answer that for you, Aubrey. But what I can tell you is if you take your future seriously, if you’re willing to work for it, then we can try to get things back on track for you. It’ll take a lot for you to prove that you’re able to resume your spot in the program. And you have to take it very seriously.” Dr. Lowell took a sip of coffee while I thought about what she was saying.

“Are you ready to do that?” she asked me.

Despite the twinge of apprehension I felt at possibly failing again, I knew that I couldn’t let this opportunity slip by. “I am,” I said, and I meant it.

After my meeting, I felt encouraged. I had a long road ahead of me, and I knew that there was a lot I needed to do in order to prove that I deserved my spot in the program back.

I just hoped I was up to the challenge. A lot was at stake. Everything I had worked for had been taken away from me. Dr. Lowell had dangled the possibility of getting it back.

That gave me something to work for.

It gave me motivation.

It would allow me to focus on something that wasn’t Maxx Demelo.

As I walked up the steps to my apartment, I could hear laughter filtering down the hallway. I paused, listening to the familiar lilting of my best friend’s giggle on the other side of the wall. I hadn’t heard Renee laugh like that in a long time. Too long.