Some of the stuff in this chapter could be triggering. A few things in this fic could be. Just putting that out there!
I debate it.
I could leave and not come back.
He wouldn't stop me.
There's a nagging voice in my head though, one that's telling me to go forward.
To stay and talk to him.
My feet propel me forward until I'm sitting back in the chair I was a few minutes earlier.
Dr. Black sits back down as well and waits for me to speak.
"I didn't try to kill myself," I insist again.
"Isabella-"
"Wait," I interrupt. "I didn't mean to overdose. I didn't think I had taken too much."
The expression Dr. Black was giving me told me he believed otherwise.
I knew how bad it looked.
"You took a cocktail of drugs with alcohol in your system. The paramedics found you unconscious on your kitchen floor with slit wrists. You can understand that by medical records and your history how it's an easy conclusion to come to."
I'm stunned silent.
How dare he?
"If you want to tell me otherwise, then please do so, Isabella. I'm only here to help you, but you have to be open to that help." He glances down at his watch. "Our time is up for the day, but please, think about what I said and come again next week, same time."
So, today is my birthday. I'm going to go to work now and maybe a chapter later? Probably not though.
What do you think about this tiny little reveal from Dr. Black about Bella?