“She did,” she told me, pausing to take a bite of ice cream. “But Harvard is still outrageously expensive, and they didn’t cover all hercosts. At least she was smart enough to take up our parents’ offer to live with them for a while. Renting a decent place in Boston is almost as expensive as New York, and she couldn’t swing that while also paying off her loans, even with the healthy salary she’s now making.”
We were quiet for a few minutes as we tucked into our ice cream. I stared down into mine like it could solve all my problems. Maybe it could. A food coma sounded good right now.
“What’s going on, Ella?” Sophia asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen you this down since Renee passed.”
“Can I ask you not to repeat this to the family?”
“I’ll give you full client privilege.”
“You remember me talking about my friend Stan at Jacob’s going away?”
She nodded.
“Well, he has some past head trauma and is having tests done today to see if he might have signs of Chronic Traumatic Encephalopathy.”
Her eyes widened. “Oh, damn.”
“Yeah.”
“Is the threat of chronic illness bringing up all those memories of Renee and your grandpa?”
I nodded.
“He’s not just a friend, is he? You two are romantically involved?”
Her intuition was so next level that when we first met, I thought she was psychic. “Very recently.”
“Okay, so what are you hoping for here? Do you want me to help you sort through all these feelings?”
“Please,” I said, my tone skirting the line of begging.
“The first step is acknowledging them. Tell me what you feel.”
“I’m terrified that the tests might come back positive. And I keep going worst-case scenario with it.”
She set her ice cream bowl in the sink. “What is the worst-case scenario?”
“That he has scarring, that he has tons of abnormal proteins, and that his brain is already showing signs of deterioration. It kills me to think of this sweet, generous, caring man having uncontrollable outbursts, or becoming violent, or suffering from memory loss, or…” I leaned forward, head in my hands.
“It’s okay,” Sophia said, coming over to hug me while I cried.
“And I also feel like an asshole. Like, how do I have any right to be so torn up over this when I’m not even the one going through it?”
She pulled away. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” I told her.
“Ella, look at me.”
I craned my head sideways.
She cupped my cheeks and met my eyes, her own full of empathy. “Your feelings are valid. Your feelings matter. If Jacob were going through the same thing as Stan, I would be doing the emotional equivalent of shitting myself. The threat of a chronic, debilitating illness is terrifying. It’s okay to be afraid for him. It doesn’t mean that you’re putting your fear above his in any way.”
“But-”
She let me go and shook her head. “No buts here. Feel the emotions. If you try to suppress them, you’ll only make things worse for yourself. I’m a professional here; I think I know what I’m talking about.”
I grabbed a napkin from the countertop and blotted at my face. “Right. You’re right.”
