"So when is all this over?"
Dr. Wyatt narrowed her eyes and cocked an eyebrow. "When is what all over, exactly?"
"When are you done? Do you have a timeline? Do you have any sort of plan?"
"When am I done with what?"
"With your work. Or whatever."
"I'm not doing any of the work," Dr. Wyatt corrected. "Owen's doing all the work."
Cristina sighed irritably and glanced over at the fish tank. The woman was infuriating. The fish probably saw more progress then people dealing with this woman, and they just swam in circles.
"You're getting impatient." Dr. Wyatt said, a frown balancing on her mouth.
Cristina sniffed and refused to look at the woman.
"But you broke up with him. So what's the hurry? What's the hurry if you're just going to break up with him when he hits a road block?"
Cristina recoiled. "A roadblock? He—" she stopped short, then continued, her voice lower, "he choked me."
Dr. Wyatt nodded, satisfied. "Yes. Yes, he choked you. So when is that all over?"
"Pardon?"
"When do you deal with that?"
"I did deal with that. I broke up with him."
"You can only lie to me if you make an appointment in advance," Dr. Wyatt said, repositioning herself in her chair. "I think you should see someone, Cristina. A horrible thing happened to you, and I expect you're having trouble processing the feelings. It can't be easy, remembering what happened, living with what happened, but knowing that he wasn't awake for it. It must feel terribly unfair, that he didn't mean to hurt you. And yet you can't forget that he did. You shouldn't feel guilty for breaking up with him. It was self-preservation. He needed to get help."
"I don't feel guilty," Cristina said, and stood to leave. It had been a mistake coming here.
"I think you do," Dr. Wyatt said.
"Yeah, well," Cristina crossed the room and opened the door, "you're a terrible shrink."
Cristina walked out, and barely resisted the urge to slam the door behind her.