She takes two a4 sheets of paper from her file and hands one to each of us.
“Right now?” I ask, because, honestly, I’d need a minute or week.
Dr. Kendall checks the slim silver watch on her wrist. “We have ten minutes left.”
We both make identical skeptical faces.
“It doesn’t have to be long,” she assures us. “Just… honest.”
Lore sighs and uncaps her pen.
I stare down at the blank page, my stomach twisting.
Honest.
Yeah.
This is going to suck.
Chapter Twelve
Lorelie
Once I put the pen to paper, the words pour out like they’ve been waiting years for an escape route.
I regretted what happened the second it happened, but I clung, white-knuckled to the self-righteous idea ofgetting even. Like that somehow made it fair.
Now I don’t even have that.
When I’m done, I place the paper upside down on the coffee table, not willing to look at the sentences staring back at me. I close my eyes and lean back, my hand drifting to my belly, tracing the curve there. Patrick is still hunched forward, pen moving slowly. I suppose that’s fair considering he hasn’t had the years like I have.
A few minutes later, I hear him exhale and sit back. I open my eyes. His paper is flipped upside down too.
We catch each other’s eyes. No smiles.
Dr. Kendall looks between us. “Done?”
I nod. Patrick nods.
She folds her hands in her lap. “I imagine you’re both feeling pretty raw right now.”
Neither of us answers.
“Alright,” she says gently. “We’re almost out of time. So, here’s what I want you two to do.”
She gestures to the papers.
“You can fold those letters and put them in your pockets…or” she looks pointedly between us, “you can exchange them. Completely up to you.”
My heart stutters.
I glance sideways at Patrick. He’s already looking at me.
Dr. Kendall smiles faintly. “You don’t have to decide now. In fact, I prefer you don’t decide here. Take them with you. Walk out. If you exchange them…do it on your own time, as long as that is.”
She stands, signaling the end of the session.
Patrick and I both stand slowly, letters untouched on the table for a second, neither of us wanting to be the first to pick one up.
