The scene of the accident flashed before him. He pushed it right back out of his head.
“Stone? How about you? Have you used the journal yet for more than comics?”
He thought of the simple black composition notebook with his name printed neatly on the cover. Just like in school. All those blank lined pages ready for him to spill his thoughts onto.
He decided to keep to the truth. “Not yet.”
“Nothing to share? Or not ready to open yourself up?”
He met her gaze head on and pushed right back. “No time.”
“Understood. Have you had any realizations or thoughts regarding your anger issues this week? Anything we explored that interested you?”
Like what? Sitting with dogs? Breathing on the floor? Writing in a journal? Circle time?
The emotions deep inside stirred, then slowly settled. “Not really,” he finally said.
He refused to deal with the flash of disappointment in her eyes. Who cares? This was a game of chess to get her into bed, not to leave pieces of himself behind.
“Very well. I’m going to ask each of you a question. I want you to respond from the gut. Don’t think about it too hard or try to reach for the right answer. Just tell me the first thing that comes to mind.”
Stone began to sweat. He wouldn’t let her beat him.
“Eli. Give me a memory, any memory, that made you angry.”
“What I just told you. Sitting in traffic, waiting to see my best friend. Hoping he wasn’t going to die while I was stuck there with a bunch of assholes going to work or lunch or having fun.”
“Excellent.” She turned. “Luther. Again, give me one quick memory of when you were angry.”
Luther didn’t hesitate. “When I found out my dad was having an affair with some other woman. I went to the college to visit him, and he was in his office kissing someone else. I wanted to kill him.”
“Very good. Stone? Same question. Give me your memory.”
He paused.
Her voice caught him like a silken whip. “Now. Don’t think. Just talk.”
He opened his mouth and damned if something didn’t come out. “When I walked into the bedroom and found my wife screwing my partner.”
Eli whistled. “Bru-tal, man. Sorry.”
Luther shook his head. “That may be worse than my dad.”
Arilyn stared. Shock carved out the features of her face. “You were married?” she whispered.
He narrowed his eyes. “Yeah. I was married. Now I’m divorced.”
Silence descended. Luther and Eli shared a glance and then looked uneasily at their teacher. Clearing her throat, she seemed to try to shake off some type of mental fog. “W-Well. That’s excellent, Officer. Thanks for sharing.”
Hmm. Back to “Officer” now, huh?
She rolled to her feet and forced a smile. “That’s it for today, gentlemen. Eli, may I speak with you for a few minutes?”
“Sure.”
Stone rolled up his mat, stacked it neatly in the corner, and checked his cell phone messages. He grabbed her elbow as she walked past him. “Arilyn?”
“Yes?”
Oh, yeah, she was mad about something. He felt like he’d stepped into Antarctica. “I’ll wait for you outside?”
She shook him off as if he were an annoying bug. “No need. I’ll be a while with Eli.”
“I can wait.”
“Not necessary. Have a good day.”
She turned her back, smiled at Eli, and began chatting.
Stone cursed under his breath and stormed outside. Well, screw that. Screw her. He had finally given her what she wanted with her damn sharing, and now she was pissed at him? He couldn’t help the divorce. Yes, he had baggage. Must be nice to have a perfect life. Must be nice to be Arilyn Meadows.
He ignored the strange bite of pain that hit his gut and swore not to think about her again. He was finally back at work and had a few hours to kill before his shift. He was done mooning over a woman who was all wrong for him. Fuming, he got in his car and drove.
He didn’t realize until he looked up that he was at the shelter. Getting out of the car, he checked to make sure there were no strays running around. His nerves jangled, but he ignored the slight panic, making himself trudge into the main center. He scrawled his name on the volunteer list and headed toward the back. Trying not to wince at the noise, he strode past the barking dogs, nodding to another volunteer, and went inside Pinky’s cage.
The dog sat almost in the same spot as the other day. A twinkle of interest lit her eyes, and her head cranked around a bit. Then she went back to gazing into space.
“You’re a hard case,” he commented, stretching out his legs and leaning against the gate. “I don’t mind. I need some peace and quiet right now. I’m about done vomiting my feelings for everyone to judge. I mean, do you really want to talk about what happened to you? No. You dealt with it, and now you need to move on.”