_ The Therapist _
The entire drive was quiet.
CJ and I haven't exchanged a single word.
We had to leave before the others because he made up some excuse about having a crucial meeting with very important clients. I knew that was a lie. Even his friends didn't buy it. He rarely works on weekends.
He stops the engine and sits silently for a moment.
"Go." He says quietly.
I know he doesn't want to talk to me. He doesn't want anything to do with me. So, trying to hold a conversation with him is pointless. Useless.
So I just turn and fling the door open.
I walk a few steps and stumble to the ground. s**t! I have twisted my ankle on the same foot. Again! It's so painful that I wince as I struggle to get back up on my feet again.
I feel arms circle around my waist, helping me up. By now,
