"Tell me what happened today."

I sat in Dr. Mince's office for one of our daily therapy sessions.

I started telling him about yesterday.

"Donna came into my room, telling me she got a job in a new gallery on the Westside. I suggested we go out and celebrate-- as well as stop by Mocha Daze to see my new paintings hanging on walls. She smiled, saying we should make a day of it. You know, have breakfast, go to Mocha Daze, and then head to the beach and watch the sunset."

Dr. Mince stared me down, making notes in my file.

"The Nurse in charge let the two of us go together. And you know what? I saw the look of disappointment in Harold's eyes but I didn't care. It was the smile on Donna's face that made me feel...I don't know, peaceful?"

Dr. Mince nodded, staring me down.

"So that morning we headed to a Melrose sidewalk cafe and had this incredible breakfast. The two of us talked about all the things that brought us into Haven House-- or rather, I should say-- I talked-- and Donna listened. I told her everything. From my fixation with Mike, to the fight with Hugo-- all the way to my relationship with Steve and my suicide attempt. It felt so good to be clean, to talk about it, y'know?



To remember who I was once.
And to know I am no longer that person."

He kept writing.

"Later, we went to Mocha Daze. Donna seemed more excited than I did until
we stepped inside and I looked at the walls.

They were bare.

I went over to Hugo and asked him what was going on. He begrudgingly told me he had sold part of Mocha Daze to his ex-lover's daughter and since she didn't like the paintings...

That's when somebody cleared their throat and I turned to face the door.

It was Steve. I stood there frozen for an instant, memories flooding my mind. When I was...that....type of person, you know?"

The Doctor nodded, not looking at me, writing in his file.

"My paintings were in the trash dumpster outside. Each one with a big gash through the canvas. My new art, my new life-- destroyed. Steve laughed as Donna started pulling the damaged paintings out of the trash. I stared at him-- his poor face full of such contempt-- and then I glanced at Donna.

She wasn't hurt, scared, or angry. She was accepting. She was...forgiving."

The alarm went off on the desk near Dr. Mince.

"Let's continue this tomorrow, shall we?"