Unbreakable (City Lights, #2)(57)

“I have. Do you have feelings of sympathy to your attackers?”

“No, no. But it seems to me that there’s probably a similar disorder or syndrome or whatever you want to call it, when someone feels really…bonded to someone else who also went through the same ordeal. Isn’t there?”

“Are we speaking of…” Dr. Kinley consulted his notes, “Mr. Bishop?”

“Yes.”

“How is Mr. Bishop connected to your feeling that you cannot move on from the robbery?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” I said. “I mean, I think of him. Quite a bit. And I know I shouldn’t. I’m getting married, you see…”

“Congratulations.”

“Yes, thanks, and so it’s not really appropriate for me to be thinking about Cory…Mr. Bishop. But it’s just the trauma, right? In the bank, my idea of safety was tied up with being close to him. He kept me safe and then he literally saved my life. So what is that called?”

“What is what called?”

“What is the clinical term for when someone becomes attached to someone else in times of crisis?”

“Well, I hesitate to say there is one as particular as Stockholm Syndrome.”

I leaned forward. “But there is…something…right? Tell me it’s something I can get over or take a pill for.”

Dr. Kinley pursed his lips. “It’s quite possible that what you’re describing is a variant on Separation Anxiety Disorder. If you’ve developed an emotional attachment to Mr. Bishop during your time of crisis, you could be now experiencing anxiety related to being apart.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” I leaned back, absorbing this. “Yes, that’s probably it. I knew there had to be something. So how do I make it go away?”

The psychologist cocked his head. “Why are you so very eager for it to go away?”

“Isn’t that normal? To want to get well?”

“Let me rephrase: Why are you desperate to rush your treatment? It’s not wise to jump to a diagnosis without first—”

“Because it’s inappropriate,” I blurted.

“You have inappropriate thoughts about Mr. Bishop?”

“No, no.” And then…Cory’s hands sliding up my thighs in the dark of that office, his mouth on mine...

“No. I just meant I’m having a hard time concentrating on the things in my life I need to be concentrating on. My job. My fiancé.” I squared my shoulders. “I can’t sleep, doctor. I need to move on. So please tell me how I can cure this separation anxiety. Is there a pill or some sort of meditation…?”

Dr. Kinley glanced at his watch and smiled gently. “Ms. Gardener, I haven’t diagnosed you with Separation Anxiety Disorder. I haven’t diagnosed you with anything. I understand you’re in a hurry to get on with a ‘normal’ life. But you must be patient. This will take time. Okay?”

No, not okay. But I sank back onto the couch, and nodded. “Yes, doctor.”

#

I drove back to the bungalow in more turmoil than before. It had been a huge relief to know there was a name for why I couldn’t get Cory off my mind, but how to cure it apparently was going to take more than one session. I don’t have time to wait for Dr. K to slowly try to unravel this mess. I’ll do what I do best, and just handle it on my own.

I felt better at once…until I saw a tomato red pick-up truck parked in front of my house. A Latino man was leaning against it. Cory’s best friend, Victor Ruiz. A stab of fear knifed my heart. I screeched into the driveway and tore out of my car.

“What is it? Has something happened? Is Cory okay?”

“He’s not hurt, if that’s what you mean,” Vic said.

I sagged with relief. “I saw that he got out of the hospital today even though it’s only been two weeks. When I saw you, I assumed he’d relapsed or hurt himself or…” I shouldered my purse, frowning. “Though of course, I don’t know why you’d come to tell me.”

“Cory’s fine. He’s at my house as we speak, getting stuffed full of tamales by my wife and being used as a jungle gym by my kids. He thinks I had to run to a job site. I didn’t want him to know I was here.”

“Oh,” I said. “Why are you here?”

“I’m sorry to track you down like this, but he needs help. Badly.”

Vic explained how Cory’s landlord evicted him for failure to pay rent, despite the fact he was a hostage in a bank at the time.

I shook my head, disgusted. “He told me that might happen. I didn’t believe it then and I can hardly believe it now. Where is he staying?”

“On my couch until he gets a new place. And he can stay with us until…whenever. Forever. My door is always open to him. And I know every single guy on our crew feels the same way. He took a bullet for you? We’d all take one for him. He’s a good man and doesn’t deserve half the bum rap Georgia’s giving him.”

“Is she still going to try to move Callie away? After all that’s happened?”

Vic nodded solemnly.

“Cory got out of the hospital this morning,” I said, aghast.

“I know it. I also know that he’d rather eat nails than take a handout, so he’ll be off my couch and in his own place by next week. But no way can he find a place good enough for a kid before the hearing. Not with an eviction hanging over his head.”