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“Dr. Miller, Jillian Gellar is here.”
The attractive doctor smiles, stands from his chair, and rounds his desk to reach out for my hand. “Good afternoon, Jillian. It’s good to see you again.”
“Thank you. Likewise.” I inwardly thank him for not bringing attention to my physical state. I’m sure he sees this type of thing all the time. But I appreciate not having it thrown in my face the moment I walk in.
He gestures to the familiar uncomfortable green chair, and I take a seat. “I’m looking forward to working on some of the goals we discussed the last time you were here. But something tells me you have more pressing issues to deal with.”
Ha. I was so confident when I walked away from his office the last time. How long did that last? A hot minute, that’s how long. “I’m struggling with a situation and hoped you could give me some advice on how to proceed.”
“I’ll try.” He steeples his fingertips under his chin the way I recall him doing on my first visit. It appears to be his way of giving me the floor.
“Uh, hm.” I feel anxious to proceed for some reason. “So, I think I shared I had started dating someone the last time I was here.”
Dr. Miller remains silent.
“We’ve gotten closer. Not only me, but the kids adore him too.” I again clear my throat, hoping this conversation will get easier sooner rather than later. “It’s come to light that he’s connected to some dangerous people.Heisn’t doing anything bad. But he has enemies.” Okay, this sounds so far-fetched. Imean, I wouldn’t believe the craziness coming out of my mouth if I hadn’t lived through it myself. “He’s a good man. But he has family members who are connected to drugs. They’ve come after him and… well, as a mother, I can’t risk my children being harmed. But we’re all hurting at having to make this decision. I don’t know what to do.”
He sits quietly, looking at me like I’m reciting lines from a play I’m auditioning for. After a few minutes of silence between us, he says, “I think it’s wise that you proceed carefully, Jillian. Your family is still healing from serious trauma.”
That’s it?Gah. What did I think he’d say?
He leans forward in his chair, bracing his hands on his desk. I can’t help but wonder if he’s skeptical of my story. “I meet a lot of people in my line of work. Countless patients trying to survive ungodly situations of mistreatment or neglect. Whether they were the victim of a viscous crime or related to an abuser, they all want to survive to live as happy and healthy a life as possible.”
He adjusts his position, moving his hands to the arms of his chair. “Part of that means making better choices. Only allowing people into their lives that will love them and keep them safe. Casualties of domestic violence can become codependent on the abuser, for example. Not wanting to let them go, because they feel they need them for their very existence. Or children of alcoholics who, for whatever reason, are no longer safe in their home. The fear of leaving and risking the unknown is worse than staying in an unhealthy situation. Life isn’t always easy. But sometimes you have to make tough choices.”
I sit frozen to my chair, hanging on his every word. It’s more than the fact he’s gorgeous and looks like a Hollywood celebrity. There’s something about the way he speaks that makes you feel he’s only focused on you and your welfare. I don’t sense an ounce of judgment whether or not this crazy story I shared with him is real.
“Often loss survivors, like yourself, will avoid relationships for fear of the outcome. The constant anguish and sadness they know is better than the fear of suffering another heartbreak.”
While I know he’s talking about my situation, his words make me think of Luca’s sister. How she’s suffered after her abuse. But that brave woman loved her brother enough to join Matteo and come to my home to defend Luca. I get misty eyed thinking about it.
“Others will participate in high-risk behaviors, feeling they’ve been given an overinflated cloak of protection after surviving such a horrific event.”
Is that what I’m doing?I don’t feel like that’s what I was doing? I honestly think I simply fell for the one guy I can’t have. Leave it to me.
“In the short time we spent together on your first visit, I don’t feel you fit into those categories, Jillian. You seem to have done a great job at giving yourself the space to heal from a terribly tragic situation. Not only that, you re-established care with me to make sure you entered into your next relationship in a healthy way, and to provide a good role model for your children.”
Adjusting myself in my chair, I can’t help but give him a grateful smile. I needed this. To hear something positive today.
“I wish I could tell you why bad things happen to good people. It’s likely the most asked question upon entering the pearly gates of heaven.” He winks, likely trying to lighten the mood a bit. It seems clear he’s not going to be giving me the answers I’m looking for. But I should’ve known as much.
“It’s not my place to tell you what to do here. You have to decide what’s best for your family. If there’s no way to guarantee their safety by dating this man, I think you already have your answer. Otherwise, you need to proceed with caution. Because your family has already navigated some very turbulent waters.I’m not sure what the long-term outcome might be if you faced another crisis of that magnitude.”
Driving to the ER, I don’t have any more answers than I did when I arrived at his office. But that’s no fault of Dr. Miller’s. He’s right. We’ve barely recovered from Dillon. While Myla pushed out a few words to Matteo and Luna, she’s been silent ever since.
I know Luca is good for them. Good for me. But there’s no debating the danger his father’s organization could bring to us. What mother would risk that for love? Even if he’s good for her children.
Walking into work feels like agony. This job is tough enough on a good day. But on days where you are feeling blue, it’s even more so. It’s as if the patient’s pain magnifies your own. Thankfully, the shift is short today. And I’ll get off work in time for Mom to be cleaning up dinner. Focus on the silver linings, Jillian.
“Hi, honey. How was work?”
“Okay. Just glad it’s over. It was a long day, I’m exhausted. Did the kids go down okay?”
“Yes. Everything was quiet here.” My mother doesn’t hide her sorrow at how things have changed.
“Mom. I promised to keep our conversation private. But I learned something the other night.”
She spins to face me, dishtowel stopping mid stroke. “About what?”
