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“Well.” I spread out my hands. “I got time, I guess.”
“Tell me what brought you in today.”
Reliving the past week is a special hell I am not prepared for. I tell her everything, and end with, “Thing is, I feel awful about how I’m acting. But I can’t stop it. I want to be better than this. The people I love deserve better. I just... can’t.”
“Your anxiety is holding you captive.”
I spear a hand through my hair. “Feels like it.” My phone vibrates again. “Jesus fucking Christ.”
“Maybe you should get that. I promise, I won’t dock you any points if you check your phone. You do have a daughter.”
My stomach drops.Katie. Fuck, I was supposed to pick her up from school today, wasn’t I? Jen had to work. Between the insomnia and my inbox and the fact that I can’t think about anything other than Maren, I forgot.
Fuck fuckfuuuuuck.
Digging my phone out my pocket, I see have three missed calls and a text from Katie’s teacher.
“Father of the year right here.” I hang my head. “I was supposed to pick up my daughter twenty minutes ago, but I completely spaced. Jesus, what is wrong with me?”
“You’re struggling with some pretty serious anxiety,” Dr. Bramble replies gently, “while also juggling a full-time job and the demands of single parenthood. You have a very full plate, Tuck.”
Stuffing my pocket back in my phone, I rise to my feet. “I’m sorry I have to cut our session short. I do want to continue. I just—yeah, let’s hope I’m in a better frame of mind next time. I’m sorry.”
“Tuck?”
“Yeah?”
“The anxiety you’re experiencing—we have to manage it. You do that through therapy and perhaps medication if necessary. Not by leaving the woman who made you feel safe enough to fall in love again.”
Closing my eyes, I feel a slight release in my chest. Like the fear that’s gripped me for weeks and weeks is easing a tiny bit.
This is what truth feels like. It’s nice.
“I’ll think on that.”
“Think on this too. Maren is not Becca. Having a baby this time is not going to be the same experience as having a baby the last time. It will be different in all the right ways. Don’t think of it as another tragedy waiting to happen. Think of it as a second chance. A chance to do love and parenthood with a partner who sticks around, who wants the same things you do. Because from what you’re telling me, you and Maren are very much on the same page when it comes to the things that matter.”
I spear my hand through my hair again. “She’s a good girl.”
“Then be good to her. I’ll leave you with that.”
I feel both better and worse as I speed through traffic to Katie’s school. Better, because there’s a sense of calm in my chest that wasn’t there before. Dr. Bramble has a very soothing manner about her that I appreciate. A way of cutting through the bullshit to get to the heart of the matter.
She’s good at sifting through the pile of garbage I bring her piece by piece to reveal a truth I knew was there, but couldn’t see.
Worse, because now I’m starting to feel like I’m needlessly putting us all through hell.
Katie is crying when I pick her up.
“Daddy, did you forget me?” she asks when I scoop her into my arms and give her a big old kiss.
“I’m running a little late. I’m sorry, Squish.”
“Why can’t Mare come get me? She’s not late.”
Way to twist the knife.
“I told you, Maren is going to be gone for a little bit.”
