A/N: the summer's almost here which means I can update more!

Phil shifted in the worn, leather chair, his eyes darting around the waiting area. He had never been a very anxious person, but just being in this room sent his mind back eleven months.

"Philip Lester?" A stern looking woman Phil didn't recognize poked her head out of the office. Phil quickly stood up, wiping his sweaty palms on his pants. "Dr. Henderson is waiting for you in room three, just through that door."

The artist nodded, making his way to the entrance.

The place looked the same as it had six months ago: cheesy motivational posters hung on the wall, artificial potted plants covered in dust sat in every corner, even the wastebasket seemed to be just as full as it was during Phil's last appointment.

A short, sandy-haired man poked his head out of a doorway. "Mr. Lester! Please, come in."

Phil swallowed, following the man into his office.

"How are you doing? Well, we'll get to that later. Please, take a seat."

"It's nice to see you again, doctor. How have you been?" Phil took a seat on the cushiony chair, his eyes darting around the office. He noticed an abundance of baby pictures on the wall and remembered Dr. Henderson mentioning he had a grandchild on the way.

"Oh, I'm fine! Kind of you to ask. It's nice to change things up after a day of asking other people how they are," The doctor chuckled softly, closing the door behind him. "So, back for your six-month check-up, I presume?"

"Yes, sir."

"Right, well," The doctor skimmed over a paper on his clipboard, then looked up with a smile. "Looks like this will be your last appointment—unless you feel that you need to extend our time…?"

"That won't be necessary."

"Good, good. Though I will miss our talks."

Phil forced a smile, trying to push down the churning in his stomach.

"Ah, well. Enough of that. So, how have you been feeling?"

"Physically or mentally?"

"Both."

Phil brought a hand up to his shoulder, massaging it gently. "Well…my shoulder has gotten a lot better—it doesn't hurt to move my arm anymore, I just can't do any heavy lifting."

"Well, that's wonderful!" The doctor scribbled something down in his notebook. "I was worried you might never get rid of that ache."

"Yeah, I guess I got pretty lucky…" Phil trailed off.

After a moment of quiet, the doctor cleared his throat. "How about mentally? Do you feel you're making a full recovery?"

"I think so, yeah. The nightmares have stopped. I mean, I still have them once a month or so, but they're definitely less frequent than the last time we talked."

"Excellent…" More writing. "How do you feel about the situation? Are you angry, sad, scared…?"

Phil sighed, closing his eyes. Honestly, He hadn't thought about it. He hadn't wanted to think about anything having to do with Matthew, much less go on a spiritual journey to see how he felt about him. "I dunno… I'm just tired, I guess. I want the whole thing to be over, but with the court case still open I feel like I can't let go of it."

"I see…" Dr. Henderson frowned, crossing his legs. "I was wondering if everything had been settled yet."

Phil rubbed his face. "They're still working on it. Gosh, it's just…I feel like every time the end of it is in sight, something happens. The judge gets sick, they lose the file, there's a complication with the documents. I just want it to be over."

"I understand," The doctor didn't write anything this time, he just nodded sympathetically. "Unfortunately, this is just something that will have to be solved over time. It's out of your hands and you shouldn't stress about it too much; just take comfort in knowing one day it will be over."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Phil said, though this did little to comfort him.

"So, what about your love life? Have you met anyone new?"

Despite his gloomy mood, Phil felt the corner of his mouth turn up. "Yeah, actually. Dan."

"Can you tell me about him?"

Phil thought for a moment. "He's beautiful, funny, kind, down-to-earth… I really like him, but…" Phil paused for a long time. "I'm scared he's going to end up like Matthew. And I know he won't because he's nothing like that, but I can't get rid of this paranoia that he doesn't care about me. I didn't even tell him about how wealthy my family is—I tried to hide it. I mean, I did a pretty bad job of lying, but I don't know… I just couldn't bring myself to tell him. I wanted to make sure he liked me for who I am. Even now, after I've seen how much he cares about me, I still have my doubts."

"Does he know about the Matthew Situation?"

"No."

"Do you plan on telling him?"

Phil shrugged, dragging his foot across the old carpet. "Eventually. I mean, we haven't even been together for a whole month. I don't want to tell him my life story if things don't work out."

The therapist raised his eyebrows. "So, he doesn't know about the court case or your relationship to Matthew?"

"He knows I was in an unhealthy relationship, but that's about it."

"Phil, you know I don't want to rush your path to recovery, but don't you think he should know that you're—"

"I'll tell him when I'm ready," Phil spoke sternly, straightening up. "Besides, I might as well wait till after court. It won't matter then anyway."

Dr. Henderson looked skeptical but said no more on the issue. "Very well. How is your relationship with your parents?"

"The same as always: they're both too caught up with work to talk to me for longer than five minutes. My mum is in New York right now working on her newest fashion project, but my dad is still here. He keeps trying to get me to sign a contract to work for him."

"Do you want to?"

"Not really. I want to become an artist—sell paintings, do commissions, make a living out of that…but, I don't know." Phil pinched the bridge of his nose. "I keep saying that then going into work anyway."

Dr. Henderson's thick brows furrowed. "What exactly is your relationship to the company?"

"Well, I'm technically registered as an intern, but I have a much higher position than any intern would ever get. Plus, I'm being paid—not by the company, but by my father. It's complicated."

"He pays you?"

"Yeah. I mean, I work pretty hard, and my father is a reasonable man. I guess he thought it was only fair."

The doctor noddes, giving Phil a quizzical look. "If being a businessman isn't what you want in life, why do you think you keep working with him?"

"I'm good at it?" Phil shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "And, as much as I hate to admit it, I kinda like business. It's stressful and tiresome and frustrates the hell out of me, but my dad is right: it has a certain addicting element." The artist's eyes were unfocused, staring at nothing in particular. "I've always flatly refused my dad's offer to work for the corporation, but now… the more I think about it the more I can see myself working there." Phil looked up at Dr. Henderson. "I don't know what I want anymore."

The doctor gave Phil a gentle smile. "I can remember when I was your age; I wasn't quite sure what I wanted to do either. I think the best thing right now is to not stress. Don't push yourself to get an answer, just wait and see how you feel in a few months. You never know, you might find some great inspiration to start painting, or you might find yourself realizing you'd be better off with the company."

Phil nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. Henderson was right: he was in no rush to make a decision. "Thank you."

"Just doing my job." The older man chuckled, standing up. "I know this is our last meeting, but I encourage you to check up sometime, let me know how you're doing."

Phil smiled, reaching out to shake the therapist's hand. "Of course. Again, thank you."

"Mr. Lester?" Phil had only made it a few feet out the door when Dr. Henderson called his name. "I know it's hard to get back into a relationship after going through something like you did, but I encourage you to give Dan a chance—I think he will be good for you."

Phil nodded, giving the man a small smile. "Yeah, I will."

A/N: I love leaving my readers confused ;)