I Could Read Minds But Never His Sincere Love Chapter 01

I Could Read Minds But Never His Sincere Love Chapter 01

I can hear what people are thinking. Everyone except Miles Sterling.

He called it avoidant personality disorder. Whatever it was, he’d bolted every door from the inside, and nothing I tried all this time got me past a single one.

Then I started noticing something. He’d left them all wide open for Clara Bennett, his therapist, who’d been a year ahead of me in grad school.

He flinched when I touched him. But he’d sit through intimate trust exercises with Clara without blinking.

He wouldn’t tell me how his day went. Clara got all of it over text: what he had for lunch, what had made him laugh.

He went silent on me in every fight. Then he’d stay up typing massive paragraphs to Clara.

So when I walked in on them in the therapy room again, noses almost touching for whatever exercise it was this time, a voice dropped into my head. One I knew.

[Clara makes me this happy. God, I want to kiss her.]

That was Miles.

All this time I’d been picking at a lock. It was never going to open for me.

Fine. Let him keep it shut.

…

Through the glass I watched his ears go red, watched him fight a smile.

My fingers dug into the cake box. A heavy ache settled in my chest, and I lifted my hand to knock, held it there, and let it fall.

At home I kicked my shoes off at the door and dropped onto the couch. I ate the cake straight out of the box with my hands.

It tasted like garbage.

Miles didn’t like sweet things, so I’d retrained my whole palate around him. Sugar-free everything. The desserts. The coffee. The iced lattes I used to live on.

Then three days ago Clara made a cake that was loaded with sugar, and Miles ate it like he loved it.

I said something about it. He didn’t even blink.

“She made it for me. What was I supposed to do, throw it out? Forget it. I’m not doing this.”

He’d said that last part to me a thousand times. Maybe ten thousand.

But late at night he had pages for Clara. Endless paragraphs, scrolling on and on.

I found them when I snooped through his phone. He had an answer ready, and it was airtight.

“She’s my therapist, Hazel. I’m telling her what’s going on in my head. You want me to get better, don’t you?”

I was training to be a therapist too. He never told me a thing.

The day I found out my ability slid right off Miles, I gave up on law. It had been the plan my whole life, and I traded it for psychology.

The training plus the ability. I was sure that between the two of them I’d get him to open up eventually.

Today I finally understood. That lock was custom-built for me. Every time I found a way in, he added a deadbolt.

Avoidant personality disorder. He was avoiding me.

It all came back at once, the whole thing. My tears made the cake taste salty, and then my phone started ringing.

Clara.

“Hazel? You’re not picking Miles up today? He’s been standing out here a while.”

Every day after his session I showed up on time with something for him. And every day he waited outside Redwood Counseling Center without moving, until he saw me.

I looked out at the sun hammering the street. Something in me gave, the way it always did.

I got up, changed, and stopped at the florist for the flowers he liked. By the time I reached the center, he wasn’t there.

He was across the street in the restaurant, talking with Clara like he couldn’t get the words out fast enough. He was smiling. Really smiling.

He’d never once talked to me like that.

Clara spotted me on the sidewalk and waved. I made my legs carry me inside, and by the time I reached the table Miles’s face had shut down completely.

“Oh, those are gorgeous. More flowers for Miles? You two are so sweet.”

Clara beamed at the bouquet. Miles’s voice came out strained.

“She always does this. It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

[God, why does she keep doing this? She’s doing it on purpose. Clara’s going to get the wrong idea.]