Chapter 4

Ethan

A full week had gone by since that night out with Lila. Work kept me busy with hotel shoots and long editing sessions. My late-night chats with Alex had become the best part of my evenings. But I still wondered why he never sent a photo. Now it was Thursday evening, and I sat on the couch in Dr. Adrian Hale’s office.

Adrian looked the same as always in his light gray sweater. “Ethan, it’s good to see you,” he said. “How has your week been?”

I leaned back. “It was okay. I had more hotel shoots. Lots of editing. Lila and I went out the other night. Burgers and drinks. We talked a lot. It felt good to get out.”

Adrian nodded. “Tell me about that night with Lila. How did it go?”

“We laughed about old college stories,” I said. “She told me I overthink too much. The food was decent, and the drinks helped. For a few hours, I didn’t worry about everything else.”

He asked about my sleep next. “Any improvements there?”

“Some nights are better,” I replied. “The memories with Marcus still come up, but they don’t stay as long. I think talking helps.”

Adrian wrote something in his notebook. “And how do you feel about your progress overall?”

“I’m trying,” I said. “Work fills the days. The chats with Alex help too. He listens. It makes me feel like someone gets it.”

Adrian nodded again. “You’ve been carrying a lot, Ethan. Give yourself grace. You don’t have to figure everything out in one night.”

The words hit me like cold water. *Give yourself grace.* I froze inside. Where had I heard that exact phrase before? Last night. Alex had typed almost the same thing when I told him I was overthinking everything again. Word for word.

“Ethan?” Adrian’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Ethan, are you with me?”

I blinked hard. He was no longer sitting in his chair. He had moved right in front of me, leaning closer with a worried look on his face. His brows were furrowed, and his hazel eyes searched mine. He was so close I could smell the faint sandalwood from his cologne and see the small lines of concern around his eyes. Our faces were inches apart. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath.

“Ethan?” Adrian said. “Are you with me?”

My heart slammed against my ribs. I gulped. Those lips were right there, the same full lips I had imagined on my skin in so many dreams. I had pictured them trailing down my neck, wrapping around me, whispering dirty things while his strong hands held me down. Heat rushed through my body. For a second I couldn’t move.

“Ethan, what’s wrong?” he asked, voice softer now. His hand hovered near my shoulder like he wanted to steady me.

I looked up. He had moved closer and now stood right in front of me. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m here.”

“What’s going on?” he asked. His voice stayed calm, but he watched me closely.

I snapped out of it and sat up straighter. “Give yourself grace,” I repeated, my voice coming out quieter than I meant.

Adrian pulled back a little, looking confused. “What?”

“That’s what you said just now,” I told him. “Give yourself grace. That’s exactly what Alex said to me last night. Word for word.”

Adrian straightened up fully. He adjusted the collar of his sweater and gave a small cough. “Alex sounds like a smart guy,” he said, moving back toward his chair.

“He is,” I replied. I watched him carefully. For weeks I had noticed little similarities, the way they both gave calm advice, the same comforting tone, even some phrases that felt too close. I had always shrugged it off as coincidence. But now Adrian looked a tiny bit off. Not his usual perfectly calm self. His shoulders seemed tighter, and he kept glancing at his desk.

“Everything okay?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Adrian sat down and nodded. “Of course. I’m glad you have someone like that in your corner. Shall we continue?”

I forced a small smile. “Yeah, everything’s fine.”

But it wasn’t. My pulse was racing. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. “Sorry, I told Alex I’d check in around now. Do you mind if I just send a quick message?”

“Go ahead,” Adrian said.

Instead of messaging, I tapped on Alex’s contact and hit the call button. The line started ringing on my end.

At the same moment, Adrian’s phone on the side table lit up and began to ring loudly. My name showed clearly on his screen.

The sound filled the quiet office.

Adrian’s eyes widened. He reached for the phone but stopped halfway, his hand frozen in the air. For the first time, the calm, commanding doctor looked completely disheveled.

“Ethan…” he started, voice lower and rougher than I had ever heard it.

I stared at him, phone still ringing in my hand. “It’s you. You’re Alex.”

The words came out flat, but inside everything was spinning. All those late-night conversations. Every piece of advice. Every time I had opened up about my day, my ex, my dreams. It had been him the whole time.

Adrian stood up slowly. His broad shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath. “Let me explain. Please. It’s not how it looks.”

I didn’t know whether to feel angry, hurt, or something else entirely. My face felt hot. I felt my face get hot. “Explain what? That you’ve been talking to me every night as someone else? I told you things. Personal things. About Marcus, about my dreams, about how I feel. And it was you the whole time?”

“I know,” Adrian said. He ran a hand over his face. “I should have stopped it earlier. But you seemed to need someone to talk to outside of here. I wanted to help.”

“Help?” I stood up too. My voice rose. “This is my therapy. You’re my therapist. You can’t just switch to being Alex at night. That’s not right.”

“I crossed a line,” he admitted. “I see that now. At first it was just checking in after a tough session. Then the talks got longer. I enjoyed them too much. I should have told you.”

I grabbed my bag. “Enjoyed them? I was opening up to someone I thought was a friend. Or more than a friend. And it was you sitting here every week acting normal.”

Adrian took a step toward me. “Ethan, wait. Can we sit down and talk about this? I never meant to hurt you. Everything I said as Alex was real. The advice, the listening. It came from the same place.”

I shook my head. “It feels like a lie. All of it. How am I supposed to trust anything now?”

“You’re right to be angry,” he said. His shoulders dropped a little. “I made a mistake. A big one. But please don’t leave like this. Let’s figure out what happens next.”

I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, legs moving before my brain could catch up. “I need to go,” I said. My legs felt unsteady, but I moved anyway. “I can’t stay here right now.”

“Ethan,” he called as I reached the door. “Please. Call me later if you want. Or text. Whatever you need.”

I didn’t answer. I opened the door and walked down the hallway. My shoes sounded loud on the floor. The elevator took forever, and my phone kept buzzing in my pocket. Adrian’s name kept showing up.

Outside, the evening air felt cool on my skin. I walked fast at first, then slowed down after a couple of blocks. My mind would not stop. All those messages. The way I had looked forward to them. The little jokes. The times I had almost told Alex things I held back in therapy. It was all Adrian.

I stopped near a corner store and leaned against the wall for a minute. A car horn beeped nearby. Someone walked past with a takeout bag that smelled like fried rice. I pulled out my phone and looked at the messages. Several from him now.

*Ethan, I’m sorry. I know this is a lot.*

*I never planned for it to go this far.*

*Please let me know you’re okay.*

I read them twice. Part of me wanted to type back something sharp. Another part remembered how his words had helped on bad nights. I put the phone away without replying.

I kept walking. The streets felt normal, with people heading home, lights turning on in windows, the low sound of traffic. But nothing felt the same. The safe space I had in therapy was gone. And whatever I had started feeling for Alex mixed everything up even more.

After a while, I found a bench and sat down. The wood felt hard under me. I thought about calling Lila, but I wasn’t ready to explain it yet. Instead, I just sat there and breathed. In and out. One breath at a time.

My phone buzzed again. Another message from Adrian.

*I understand if you need space. But I’m here if you want to talk. As your therapist or as Alex. Or both. Your choice.*

I stared at the screen for a long time. I didn’t know what I felt. Angry, yes. Hurt, definitely. But also confused because some part of me still wanted to hear his voice. The real one. The one that had listened for weeks.

I slipped the phone back in my pocket and stood up. The walk home would take time, but I needed it. I needed to think. Everything had changed in one moment. The line between therapy and something personal had broken, and I had no idea how to fix it or if I even wanted to.

By the time I reached my building, my legs ached and my head felt full. I climbed the stairs slowly. Inside my apartment, I dropped my bag by the door and sat on the couch. The quiet felt heavy. I thought about everything Adrian had said in the office. His face when the phone rang. The way his voice changed.

I still didn’t text back. Not yet. But I knew I would have to face it soon. For now, I just needed a little time to let it all settle.

I made a simple sandwich and ate it at the counter. The bread tasted dry, but I ate anyway. Later, I opened my laptop but couldn’t focus on editing. Instead, I lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Memories of our chats played in my head. The good ones. The late nights when Alex, no Adrian had made me laugh or feel less alone.

I rolled over and checked my phone one more time. No new messages. Maybe he was giving me the space he mentioned. Or maybe he felt as lost as I did.

Sleep came slowly that night. When it did, my dreams mixed up the office couch with late-night texts and the smell of sandalwood. I woke up a few times, my heart beating fast, and wondered what would happen next. Therapy. Friendship. Something else. I had no answers yet. But I knew I couldn’t pretend it hadn’t happened