He doesn’t bring up how the conversation went with his parents and I don’t ask. I’m hoping I can avoid it for as long as possible. But I know there’s an expiration date on my lies. Lies of omission, but lies nonetheless.
Our next two sessions with Magdalena go well. Or at least I think they do. Therapy is easy and hard, confusing and yet sometimes so simple. Full of paradoxes and ambiguity. So much time spent trying to reach an undefinable target and an unquantifiable goal. Because how do you know what to hold on to and what to let go of? How do you decide which battles are worth fighting? And how do you know when you’ve healed? Youdon’t, I guess, is what I’ve learned. The pain just gets easier to carry, more manageable. And I suppose that’s all we can ask for.
During our sessions, we discuss our relationship and what it looks like now. We also hash out the issue of dating someone constantly in the public eye, explaining to Akio who his father is, and what that means for the three of us. She encourages us to tell him when we’re ready and gives us helpful language and tools to use with him.
On a Thursday night, after we’ve all had dinner together and finished our bath routine, we decide to do exactly that.
“Hey baby, can you come here for a second?” I say to Akio. “Kai and I want to talk to you about something.” Kai moves over a little on the small bed, making room for Akio to sit between us. I pull Akio close to me while he continues to play with his toy car.
“So, you know how Mommy, Kai, and you have been spending a lot of time together? We have dinner and breakfast sometimes and we go to the park and get ice cream together?”
“Yeah,” he nods rapidly without looking away from the toy.
“And you know that Mommy loves you so much and so does Kai?”
“Mhm,” he replies, staring at me with love and so much trust.
God, why does it feel like my heart is falling into my stomach? Like nothing will ever be the same after this. There’s an iron fist squeezing my chest and the anxiety is so visceral I’m worried I might pass out.
“Well, before you were born, Kai and Mommy were together for a really long time. We were best friends. And we loved each other so much that eventually, we had you. I’m your mommy, and I willalwaysbe your mommy, but Kai is your daddy, honey. And I think we’re going to be spending a lot more time together. Would you like that?”
“Yeah!” he yells enthusiastically bouncing up and down on the bed.
And so it ended up being easier in a lot of ways than I thought it would be. After our discussion, Akio carries on playing before it’s time for bed. We read him a story, we kiss him goodnight, and we tuck him in. Just like we do almost every night. Just like I have every night for the past two and a half years. So much has changed and yet so much hasn’t. And isn’t that how it always goes with kids? They’re much stronger, more resilient, and understanding than we give them credit for. His little world has been rocked, permanently altered and he can’t fully grasp it yet. But when he does, we’ll be ready.
Chapter 56
Kai
“So,Ithinkwe’vedone some really good work in the last few weeks. What I want to talk about now is the damage of the breakup. How it affected each of you when you weren’t together. Okay?” Magdalena asks in her gentle, calm, reassuring tone.
Kendall nods, the curls of her bun bouncing against her head but I can tell she’s nervous. I don’t know if she’s aware that her hands are shaking. I take one of them in mine and say her name. She locks eyes with me and I see a flicker of something that I can’t name cross her face.
Pain? Guilt? Regret?
“It’s okay,” I tell her.No matter what happens, we are going to be okay. “I can go first,” I say. “I was devastated. Fucking shattered when we broke up. I was so confused about what had happened or what I did. And I was just so angry with her.”
“Kendall, how does that make you feel? What Kai just said?” she prods.
“I feel terrible. Like a really terrible fucking person. The last thing I wanted was to hurt him. And he had every right to be angry with me. I was angry with myself,” she admits.
“What exactly were you angry at yourself for?” she wonders. Kendall wipes a tear starting to slide down her gorgeous bronze face and Magdalena hands her the tissue box.
“For making the wrong decisions out of fear and not being able to stand by them,” Kendall replies.
“Okay. And Kai, what did your life look like when you broke up? How did you deal with that?” she asks, turning her head to me.
“Well, at first, I tried calling her, texting her, writing her letters. But when those went unanswered, I resorted to drinking, fighting, sleeping around. Anything I could to numb the pain. Looking back, I think I was very depressed and didn’t know how to handle that exactly.”
“Hmm,” Magdalena murmurs. “And did you blame Kendall for this behavior, these choices?” I know Kendall already blames herself for so much. I don’t want her to bear this burden too. I swallow and answer hesitantly.
“Yeah, I did.”
“Do you still?”
God, this is…I don’t even have words for what it feels like. Peeling back the layers of skin on a barely healed wound. Ripping down a decades’ old house that once seemed sturdy to expose the rot, necrosis, and mold festering underneath.
“No, I don’t. Every decision I made back then was overshadowed with intense pain I didn’t know how to quiet. But I had agency. I was an adult. I had freedom to make decisions. But I do still get upset about the way it was handled. It always felt unresolved. She just kind of disappeared. No closure. Nothing. That was the worst. The not knowing, the hope.” Because the hope for me back then was dangerous.
