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“I hate you for sending him away!” I cover my mouth with my hand as she runs up the stairs, a sob catching in my throat as I gasp. “Leave me alone!”
Before I can fully turn, Nina’s arm is already around my neck, the other wrapping around my body. I see Mason hastily take the stairs after Ave, his face a mask of fury.
“Okay, so, you’ve told him you can’t love him and sent him to the house that was left for him. I want to know something, and it’s a hard question, so take your time,” Fran says.
I pick at the blanket I’m sat on, the laptop propped up on a pillow at the end of the bed. “Go on.”
“How would you feel if something happened to Lance now? Now that you’ve verbally put these boundaries in place.”
A hole opens up in my chest.
She smiles softly. “I have a few things. You keep saying that when Lance leaves you, but there’s nothing written in the stars that says he’s going anywhere. Let’s try to soften this mentality and the way you process it. We can circle back and work on it again, so don’t worry. It’s absolutely normal to revert to past habits after a triggering event. Secondly, you’ve said multiple times that you don’t want to love Lance, that it scares you, and that you were close to telling him on your date that you do. This was also what you led with when I asked you to explain to me what happened.”
I nod, wondering what she might say next.
“If I refer to your rundown of your trip, you told me that when Ave wanted to tell Lance that she loved him, you gave her the advice that you don’t get to choose who you love.” She looks down at her notes. “Your heart chooses for you.”
“I did.”
She smiles. “Scarlet, you’ve worked so hard to be where you are today. I have to admit I’m surprised you came to me with this. I’m glad. Always glad and happy to help, but honestly, you’re not ‘broken’ like you say you are. In fact, I think it’s quite the opposite.”
“How so?”
“Well, I’m starting to think this fear of attachment and abandonment comes out of selflessness. You might not think you can handle the loss, but you have,” she points out. “I’d be willing to put my house on you getting through far worse in all honesty. I wonder how much of the conflicted feelings come down to not the fear of loss, but the person you are after it. The fear of the burden you’d put on the people around you if you stumble. You had to carry a lot more than what was fair when your dad was sick. You gave up a lot and lost relationships because of it. Could it be the knowledge of that burden that scares you?”
I swallow, staring at the screen.
“I think anyone in your situation, who’s suffered loss like you have, would be feeling very much the same.” She jots something down. “Think about this for me. Loving Lance out loud or quietly won’t change the fact you love him. Your face when I asked you if something happened to him how would you feel told me a thousand stories. Pushing him away won’t make it hurt any less if the unthinkable happens.”
I blink, eyes burning at the harshness of her words.
“I know that’s a lot. We have plenty to work through here.”
“I think I need some time to process.”
“You want to stop for tonight?”
I wipe at my face. “I think I need to.”
She nods, brows lifting. “You’ve not cried in all the sessions we’ve had.”
“I tend to save it for after.”
She smiles down at her notepad, her eyes catching on her notes. “I want you to practise something for me. I know you have a lot of support at home, so I think with a few conversations, it’s possible.”
I sit up, ready to take on her feedback. It’s never failed me, after all.
“Whenever you go to do something for anyone else in your household, I want you to go to your to-do list—mental or written—and cross something off it first. I know it’s ridiculous to you, and it’s not a sustainable measure as a working mother, but take time to think about your needs before you handle everyone else’s. Sit with the list, figure out what you need, and then do it.”
“I already know I won’t.” I force a smile.
“Humour me and try. I think you’ll be surprised what topping up your own cup can do for you and the people you love.”
I schedule another appointment with Fran for three days from now, knowing we really do have so much to go over. By the time the appointment comes around, I’ll have agreed with her, wanted to fire her, and come up with a million reasons why she’s wrong.
It’s a process, but I’m pretty sure she likes me.
THIRTY
