“You look better today,” Sara observed as I walked into the kitchen the next morning.

I nodded, pouring myself a cup of coffee and adding in the sugar and cream. “I actually slept last night. Clearly, I needed it,” I replied, placing the coffee down on the table before I took a seat. “My parents were there last night.”

Sara looked as thought she was torn between laughing or feeling sympathetic for me at the sentence. She chose to give me a half smile. “Well, you’re not in jail, so I guess it went okay?”

I shrugged, running a finger around the rim of my cup. “Yeah, they were… pleasant. I mean, my dad was nice. He said he missed me, even though I don’t believe it, but then didn’t say anything while my mom bragged about how wonderful Sadie is in comparison to me. ‘Oh, your boyfriend died, you’re such a failure.’”

“You know that that’s not really how she feels,” Sara said. “I mean, your mom is crazy, yes. But I doubt she views Evan’s death as an embarrassment.”

“She doesn’t think that, necessarily. But she used to be make sure to mention that she always pictured me with someone more ‘professional’ anyways.” I shook my head, trying to control the anger that seethed through me at the mere mention of my family. “As if the night weren’t awkward enough, it was Kris who came over and saved me from them.” I lifted up my cup, taking a cautious sip from it. “I hate them so much. I know you’re not supposed to hate your parents, but I feel like, if something happened to them, I wouldn’t even care.”

“Hey, calm down,” Sara instructed, reaching across the table to grab my hand and give it a squeeze. “They’re probably on their way back to Quebec right now, and you won’t see or hear from them for months. Don’t get worked up about it. You know that there wasn’t a single person at Evan’s celebration that looked at them and believed that they were good parents.”

I nodded, taking in a deep breath and forcing a smile. “I’m good, I swear. I’m going to hand out more resume’s, possibly find a gym to take out my aggressions, and not worry about them.” I swore.

Sara nodded, seeming satisfied with the reply. Before a new subject could be brought up, my cell phone began to rang, causing me to leap up from the table and book it out of the kitchen and towards my room, searching through the chaos of my dresser top to find it. “Hello?” I asked.

“Hello, is this Kaitlin Fraser?”

“This is she,” I answered.

“Kaitlin, this is Caroline, I’m the receptionist for Dr. Lana Bailey. I’m just calling to confirm your appointment for tomorrow at two o’clock?”

I frowned, giving my head a shake. “No, there must be a mistake. I finished my last counselling session a couple of weeks ago.”

There was a pause on the other line before I heard a few clicks a keyboard. “Uhm, yes, I see that you finished your first year, but another appointment for you was booked this morning.”

“Well, I don’t have the money to cover anymore sessions so-”

“The expenses have already been paid for,” Caroline answered, interrupting me. “Would you like to talk to Dr. Bailey yourself? She may have sought out financial services for you if she felt more sessions were needed.”

I sighed, sitting down on the edge of my bed. “Sure, that would be fine.”

I was put on hold, allowing me enough time to walk back to the kitchen, grab my coffee, tell Sara a brief recap of the call and head back into my room, taking two large gulps of my coffee before I heard Dr. Bailey.

“This is Dr. Bailey.”

“Hi, Dr. Bailey, this is Katy Fraser, I don’t know if you remember me-”

“Katy, of course I do,” she assured me. “How can I help you?”

“I was just wondering if you had looked into some kind of financial aid for me? I was just called by your receptionist and informed that I have an appointment, but I didn’t book it, and I certainly cant afford it.”

There was a pause. “I did look into it, however, there was none available. Would you like me to check and see how the payment was made? If it’s financial services of some kind it will be listed.”

“Sure,” I agreed, sighing once more.

I heard a few papers rustle around before she spoke again. “Actually, the payment was made in person. It seems someone else paid for it already.”

I frowned. “Can you tell who it was?”

“I can, but they’ve requested to remain anonymous,” she replied, an amused tone seeping into her voice. “I guess I will be seeing you again, Katy. Tomorrow works?”

I was already looking for my keys, well aware of who had paid for the sessions. “I guess you will.”

---------------------------------------

Kris answered the door with a worried look, frowning at me as I stood on his porch. “You know.”

“Of course I know,” I said, the frustration evident in my voice. “Who else could afford those sessions? I spent all of my savings on them, and I had a lot of savings, Kris. A lot.”

He sighed, running a hand through hair. “Come inside. I don’t want you yelling at me where all of my neighbours can see.”

I obliged, stepping into the house and following him into the kitchen, where he had been busy cooking himself something to eat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked. “I’m making chilli. I’ve never made it before, so it might not be edible, but if it is, you can have some.”

I shook my head. “No thank you. Besides, you’ve clearly helped me out enough.”

He sighed, shaking some chilli powder into the pot in front of him. “You said last night that your parents would not help with counselling. And I know that you would continue to go through therapy if you could afford it, and I can afford it, and I owe you, so…” he shrugged as though that settled it.

“You can’t just do things like that. Especially not after what happened last time I was here,” I said, feeling enraged again.

“I didn’t pay for the sessions because I’m trying to get anything,” Kris said, not even looking up from the chilli as he did so. “You and I both know that Evan would tell me to take care of you if he could. And that’s what I’m trying to do now,” he said, glancing up at me quickly. “Take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know that,” he agreed. “But you shouldn’t have too. Not when there’s people that want to help.”

“What if I don’t want your help?” I asked, crossing my arms.

Kris looked at me, meeting my angry gaze. “Then that’s too bad.” He lifted up a spoonful of the chilli, taking a bite. “This isn’t too bad, are you sure you don’t want some?”

“Oh, I get an option this time?” I asked.

He sighed, looking as though he was already exhausted by the argument. “Katy, stop. I was terrible to you when Evan first died, and I owe you a lot of apologies. Please, just let me try to help.”

I was still mad, which I knew he was aware of. The tightness of my features was probably making the anger all the more evident then it was in just my voice. But I could see that there was no point. He was right in his assumption that I would have carried on with more therapy if I could have afforded it. Dr. Bailey had told me during my first session, that people who lost a “partner” generally needed two years of therapy to cope properly and accept the “harsh reality.” She had stressed that the counselling did not mean that person was forbidden from moving on or finding love somewhere else, but that it took care of the emotional vulnerability that threw so many mourners into the relationship realm sooner then they should be.

“Fine, hand me a bowl,” I agreed, ignoring the smirk that spread across his face as I stood up from my spot behind the counter. “But if this kills me-”

“You really made a dead joke after I paid so much for your therapy over Evan?” He asked, waiting to see my reaction.

I studied him for a second, seeing how desperately he wanted to smooth over the tears of our friendship, to try and have some piece of the person he was before his best friend was taken. I was tired of hating him, truthfully, and he as he waited nervously for my reaction to his joke, I realized that I wanted those pieces back, too.

“If this kills me, I am coming back to haunt you. And I’ll bring Evan, too. You can refund the therapy sessions and pay for the funeral,” I suggested, letting him scoop some chilli into a bowl for me.

Kris nodded, handing it to me with a small smile. “I guess that sounds fair.”

Notes

This one is rather short and boring, I know. But I like the way Kris and Katy interacted in this one. Also, thank you again to everyone who has taken the time to read and rate the story. It really means a lot to me. This story has a special place in my heart, and I'm glad that I can share it with you.