Every New Beginning... (Chris Evans AU)

.166.

  "Did you complete your homework?"

  I'm back on Dr. Maxwell's leather couch, sitting across from him for my second appointment. My fingers grip tightly to the paper he sent home with me, along with the one I wrote the answers down on. "I managed to get through the first two."

  He nods an agreeance. "Good. I honestly wasn't sure you'd make it past the first so early in our meetings," he admits with a small grin. 

  "Me either," I chuckle lightly.

  "Did you find any of it helpful?"

  "I found it a bit," I pause, trying to find the right word, "painful," I answer honestly. 

  "Why do you say that?" he asks, picking up his glasses, notepad and pen. With a quick click to the end of the pen he prepares to jot down something.

  I squirm a bit in my seat before answering. "Looking back into some tough moments of my childhood. But, the second one. That's the one that took the cake," I laugh quietly. "I uh, I wrote the letter to my father. Rather, to a man named Phillip from my past," I correct myself. 

  He doesn't deserve the title father anymore. And I'm making that decision for myself.

  "What kind of things did you say to him?"

  I pass over the letter but Dr. Maxwell holds his hand up, shaking his head. "Wouldn't it just be easier for you to read it?"

  "Why don't you read it to me?" 

  My eyebrow quirks at his request. It was exhausting just writing it, but now to read it aloud to someone? I'm not in the mood to be wrecked again. "How is that going to help? I mean, I've already written the words, I know what I said."

  "Would you rather I ask you to take it to Phillip? Hand deliver it maybe?"

  "Gah, no!" I exclaim. "I never want to be within a hundred miles of the man for as long as I live."

  "Well, that would be my next suggestion, but in your situation I can make an exception." He sits on the edge of his seat, pulling his glasses off once more, dangling them from his finger tips. "Think of me as Phillip. Imagine that I am your father." I take a deep breath, listening to his idea. "Pour it all out onto me."

  I begin reading the letter, my voice even and monotone, no emotion. "Stop," Dr. Maxwell says. "I want you to read it to me as though I am him. These aren't words I think you'd just whisper to him. These are words that are coming from your heart. Feel them, Opal," he instructs me. 

  I start over, my tone changing slightly. I let myself feel the hurt all over again, praying that this would be the last time I had to actually visit the pain Phillip has inflicted upon me. I hold it together pretty well, anger definitely present.

  But when I reach the point of telling him how I walked away from the love of a man who wanted all of me, I falter. I falter so hard that I let the paper slip from my hands, landing on the floor as I cover my face with my hands, weeping. 

  Dr. Maxwell doesn't say anything for a few moments. He's giving me time that I haven't given myself. When he finally speaks, I'm taken aback at the simplicity of his words. "Have you grieved the loss of your relationship?"

  I know the answer and yet the word can't or won't come out of my mouth. I shake my head as it still rests in my hands. 

  "I think, you've been too busy pushing him away that you haven't let yourself understand the full loss for yourself." I lift my head, looking at him through cloudy eyes. "I want you to keep reading. Get it all out, Opal." He pushes the tissue box towards me.  Grabbing a couple I clumsily wipe at my eyes and cheeks before lifting the paper once more.

  I manage to finish the letter even though my words are broken and shaking.

  "Good." Dr. Maxwell stands up and moves to his desk. He opens a drawer, pulling something from it before he grabs a candle off the corner of the desk. He sets the candle in front of me, lighting it with the lighter he pulled from the drawer. 

  I watch him, silently asking for permission. He gives me a small nod. I roll the paper, the last words to my father, up from top to bottom. With a small sigh I hold one end towards the candle, letting the hot, orange flame lick up one side. 

  As the flame burns away the pain and hurt filled words I can feel my  lips begin to turn up. 

  "Now, for question 3." I release a groan at his words, falling back into the couch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chris POV

  "Tinsley keeps asking me about you," Spencer informs me as I take a seat across from him. 

  Shift had just ended and Cooper and I were joining he and Janie for breakfast at Egg Harbor again. I open the menu, glancing around at the choices as my palm runs over my mouth and beard. 

  "Is that so?" Cooper chimes in, his tone full of mischief.

  "You both need to knock it off," Janie informs them. "Evans will do what he wants, when he wants. Stop trying to push someone on him."

  Spencer holds his hands up in innocence. "I'm not pushing anything. She asked me if he might like to grab a drink with her, sometime soon." He pulls the menu down from in front of me, making me look at him. "So, how about it?"

  "No offense to you, but I'll pass," I tell him. "She's not really my type."

  "After the past few months of being alone you might want to lower your standards, man," Coop laughs and nudges me in the side with his elbow. 

  I shoot him a glare. "Opal made me realize I needed higher standards."  I hold my coffee cup up for Whitney to fill. "Tinsley is a lot like CJ from what I can tell, personality wise."

  "Well, you were with CJ for a while, so..." Cooper drags out, waiting for me to complete the sentence.

  "And she's not what I wanted."

  "No disrespect to you, but what you wanted might be needing a trip to the looney bin," he says snickering while pointing his finger at his head and swirling it around. 

  I feel my face heating up and my hand clenching tighter around the coffee cup. "Back off of Opal," Spencer says sternly. 

  His words surprise me and I can't hide the shock on my face. "I didn't want to introduce you to anybody, but she insisted," he admits, shrugging his shoulders. "I was still rooting for you two."

  The past tense words he used made my stomach churn. "She's going through a lot. I'm giving her time."

  "Chris," Janie says quietly, "she told you to move on. You might want to grant her that wish."

  I take a deep breath as Whitney comes to grab our orders. I pass my menu to the end of the table. "If I don't hear from Opal in the next two weeks, then I'll take Tinsley up on that drink," I promise to Spencer. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Opal POV

  Two days after my cleansing ritual in Dr. Maxwell's office I finally decide to bite the bullet and look at Pop's Will. Armed with a cup of pumpkin flavored coffee, a blanket and the envelope I go to sit out on my back porch.

  "Here we go," I whisper against the fading sky.

  Carefully I use my finger to open the envelope, not wanting to damage any of the documents. I pull out the stack of papers, noticing the letter right on top. The start is the typical legal jargon, the 'being of sound mind' yada, yada, yada. I skim over those parts until I reach where he mentions his house.

  "He left me the house?" I say, surprised. But upon further reading I see that I am asked to sell the house. 

  The next paragraph tells me what I am suppose to do with the finances he left me, along with the money acquired from the sale of the house.

  My eyes grow wider the further I read. "What the hell?" I yell out.