AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Looking down, I notice we’ve devoured this charcuterie board. “Hmm? What day?”
“When he pretended to make small talk with me so he could talk to you.”
I cover my mouth and laugh.
“He wasn’t undressingmewith his eyes. It was all you.”
* * *
“Have a seat, Ms. Danforth. Dr. Miller will be with you shortly.”
“Thank you.”
Sitting down on a beautiful deep green chair across from an imposing mahogany desk, I pat my hands over my knees in nervous anticipation. I’m not sure why I’m so anxious about this. I’ve seen several counselors following Dan’s death. Looking back, I probably should’ve sought them out sooner. My grief started the day his diagnosis was official. But I couldn’t justify letting anything pull me away from his side.
The door behind me swings open, and I instinctively stand to greet the doctor Kat has gone on and on about. And then I see his face.Holy crap.He’s a dead ringer for Matthew McConaughey. I quickly snap my mouth shut as he extends his hand to me.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Danforth. Gilbert Miller. Happy to meet you.”
I’m sure I can’t be the only person who sees this.
“Please, sit down. Tell me how I can be of help.” He unbuttons his jacket and takes a seat. But as opposing as the desk is, he seems nothing but warm and endearing.
“Katarina Kelly… Oh, well, Katarina Barnes now, recommended you.”
“Oh. That’s nice. She’s a nice lady.”
Inwardly, I chuckle. Kat’s so silly, it’s hard to refer to her as a lady. “Yes. Well, she encouraged me to speak with you. I’ve seen a few other counselors in the past, but the experiences weren’t very helpful. So I discontinued going.”
“I take it you’re still having the same issues?”
“Yes. And no. I’ve gotten better, but it’s taken a very long time, and to be honest, I’m still struggling more than I think I should after all of these years.”
He sits quietly with his hands steepled together, assumably waiting for me to continue. When I don’t jump in quick enough, he adds, “There’s no time limit on healing, Ms. Danforth.”
“Poppy,” I correct. “Please, call me Poppy.”
We both sit momentarily staring at one another. Well, this is awkward. I finally decide to dive in. “My husband, Daniel, died eight years ago of ALS. The years leading up to his death were only marginally less painful.”
“If you don’t mind my asking, how long did you have with him after his diagnosis?”
“Three years.” I look away. The agonizing memories from long ago that always seem to lurk beneath the surface are still there, waiting to pull me under. “It took years to grieve losing him. Longer still, to come to terms with all we went through together before he was gone.” I reach for a tissue, just in case. “Don’t get me wrong, he wasn’t perfect. I think I grieved a version of him I’d created. Anyone who has to endure losing the control of their muscles, speech, ability to eat… well, they deserve to be elevated to superhero status in my book.” This may not make a bit of sense to him or anyone else. But it’s how I feel about it. Watching these incredible people trapped in their own bodies. It’s amazing they don’t all want to give up.
“I understand why you’d feel that way. It’s a pain no one could truly appreciate except for your husband and those in his life that had to experience his debilitation.”
His words make me feel validated. The years of grief weren’t unusual. They were necessary. “I’m finally at a place where I want to live again. But the survivor’s guilt can be stifling.”
My gaze drops down to the tissue clutched in my hands. While it’s a bit mangled from my nervous energy, it’s not damp. I have to acknowledge that after all these years, I really have healed more than I’ve given myself credit for.
“Have you met someone?”
“Yes.” I can’t fight the smile that comes to my face. “But it’s complicated.”
He shakes his head before grinning at me. “It always is. That’s life, Poppy. Perhaps it’s simply the people I meet in this line of work that has me jaded. But in my humble opinion, you have to be willing to step in some crap to get to the other side of the yard.” He stops for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts before looking directly at me. “The trials and tribulations of our lives make the wins that much sweeter. You don’t always see that when you’re in the thick of it.” He places his hands down flat on the desk in front of him and leans forward. “And it doesn’t matter how long it takes. There’s no race to the finish line. It’s all part of the process. But I think you already know that.”
He’s right. It’s taken a long time to learn. But he’s right. If I’d tried to rush the grief process, I might’ve ended up trapped in a marriage I wasn’t emotionally ready for. I needed the time to find me underneath the rubble of my loss.
“So, why are you here today? I can’t give you permission to date. Only you can do that. But I can encourage you to trust your instincts. If, after all of this time, you’ve found someone who might be a good match, keep the lines of communication open. Tell him if you’re feeling sad about experiencing feelings for someone other than your husband. If he doesn’t understand that, I think you’ve found your answer about moving forward with him.”
