On Wednesday, I don’t have to wait long in reception before Charlotte Hunt appears and leads me down the hall to her office. She looks to be in her mid-forties and is dressed in a designer pant suit. She has dark, straight hair cut into a stylish bob, wears minimal makeup and screams wealthy. Although she is extremely feminine and elegant, it’s clear she wouldn’t back down in a fight.
“Please take a seat Mr. Johnson. Or may I call you Kyle?” she asks, sitting and motioning for me to do the same.
I drop down into the leather chair, giving her my most charming smile. “Yes, of course. May I call you Charlotte?”
She looks amused at my attempt to charm her. “By all means. Please, tell me what’s brought you in today.”
“Well, I’m considering leaving my husband and I want to know what to expect if I do. Like, what would I be entitled to in the settlement, and what chances would I have of gaining primary custody of our daughter?”
“Well, that’s going to depend on a lot of factors. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? How long have you been married?”
After an hour answering all of Charlotte’s questions, I feel more prepared for what’s to come. James and I will need to be separated for twelve months before I can file for divorce, although we can be separated under the same roof if we have people who are willing to corroborate it. That scenario sounds worse than hell itself.
Once the twelve months are up, the divorce can be quickly finalised. I’m not sure how James will react to me leaving, but my greatest fear is losing custody of Lucinda. Not that I’d mind her spending time with James, but I absolutely want Lu to live with me. More than anything, I want a chance for us to be as close as we once were.
Charlotte advises me to prepare for a battle over the division of assets, and to put a plan in place for the separation period.Option one is to ask James to move out so Lu and I can remain in the house, and option two is to rent a house for me and Lu to move into. I can’t imagine the battle it would take to get James to move, so I’m certain option two is the way to go.
One thing I know for sure: I need to complete my training first so I can get a job to support us.
I thank Charlotte for her time and promptly retain her as my lawyer. As I head back to the car, I feel more in control than I have in a long time, despite my ongoing fears. There is also the smallest spark of excitement, because I’m finally taking steps to get my life back on track.
It’s a big day today—my first day back at study followed by an appointment with Dr. Riley. The course runs weekdays, except Wednesday, from 10:00 AM to 4:00 PM, which is great because I can drop Lu at school, race back to let Jeff inside, and still make it on time. I’ve organised one of the school mums to pick Lu up and I’ll be home in time to see the reno crew off for the day. James will never even know.
I’m nervous when I arrive, but the other students, mostly mature age like me, are friendly and welcoming. I strike up a conversation with a woman named Justine when we’re paired for a practical exercise, and I can see us becoming friends.
Mostly it’s just nice to be out of the house, using my brain, and interacting with other adults who share my passion for helping people.
Later in the day, as I enter my psychiatrist’s office, I’m feeling pretty proud of myself for having the courage to do this training after so many years out of the workforce. Of course, the person Imost want to share it with is Bren. He’d be happy for me; I just know it.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I open our message thread. Wait, what am I doing? I need to respect his wishes and give him space, so I slip the phone back.
Dr. Riley calls me into her office, and I get comfortable on her couch. She’s been my psychiatrist for the past ten years, and she knows me better than anyone. In her mid-fifties, she wears her black, tightly curled hair in a loose bun. Her deep brown eyes are kind and empathetic, but she has an air of strength that makes me feel safe and protected.
In conversation, I always refer to her as Dr. Riley, but when it’s just the two of us in session, I call her Beth. I implicitly trust her. Over the last few years, she’s encouraged me to make positive changes, but, until now, I haven’t felt capable.
It’s been six weeks since our last session, so she knows nothing of Bren’s return.
“Kyle, tell me what’s been happening.”
Sinking into the couch, I take a deep breath and begin. “About five weeks ago I saw Brendan.” I pause, watching her eyes widen ever-so-slightly. “It was just the craziest coincidence. James hired a bathroom renovation company and Brendan owns it. So, there he was, standing on my doorstep.”
“Kyle, I know this is incredibly significant for you. How did you feel seeing him?”
I’m already emotional. “Well, straight away I could tell he didn’t want to see me. But I…I was… Fuck, I don’t know how to express how I felt when I was looking at him. To have him right there in front of me. I could barely breathe, Beth. I was shaking and wanted to touch him so bad. I could see he was panicking, and then he was just gone. But James had left Bren’s business card on the kitchen bench with his phone number and the address.”
Dr. Riley scribbles something in her notebook. “Kyle, perhaps you should have called me earlier. But tell me what happened next.”
“I know, but I wanted to handle it on my own,” I say, trying to justify my behaviour. “Beth, I needed something to light a fire in me. Something that would motivate me to change my life. And I’ve done more in the last three weeks than the last threeyears. Seeing Bren has changed everything. I started a course today so I can go back to being a paramedic, and I hired a divorce lawyer. Even Lu and I are doing better.”
“Okay,” she says, her neutral expression shifting to one of concern. “That’s a lot going on all at once. Let’s do a symptom check first and see where we’re at, then we’ll talk through what’s been happening with Brendan, because I sense there’s more to this story.”
Dr. Riley and I talk for almost two hours. She sacrifices her evening for me, and I couldn’t be more grateful. Together, we decide a change in meds is not warranted at this time, both because it might prevent me from completing my course and also because I haven’t exhibited my most telling signs of mania—compulsive exercising, hypersexuality, and excessive spending. Nor have I experienced any further signs of depression after that slump last week. I agree to self-monitor using a journal and check in with Beth via phone once a week in case things escalate.
At the end of the session, she does something she almost never does—gives me advice. She suggests I focus on finishing the course and put Bren aside for the time being. I already know that’s the right thing to do. If Bren wants to see me, or have any type of relationship, then I need to let him initiate it. I will simply have to quiet my yearning heart.
Arriving home on Tuesday afternoon, I check on Lu in her room. “It’s just me Lu,” I say, knocking on her bedroom door. “Can I come in?”
“Sure Dad.”
