Her office is smaller than I expected. Bookshelves line one wall. Two chairs face each other—no desk between us, nowhere to hide. A box of tissues sits on the small table between the chairs.
I sit. Try to look composed despite the bruises on my face.
"What brings you here, Daniel?" Her voice is gentle but direct.
I open my mouth to give the corporate answer. The sanitized version about relationship complications and work stress.
She just waits.
The silence stretches. I realize she won't accept surface answers. That if I'm going to do this, I have to actually do it.
"I destroyed the only relationship that ever mattered." The words come out raw. "And I need to understand why."
She nods like this makes perfect sense. "Tell me about your childhood."
The question I've been avoiding for twenty years.
I give her the facts. Parents died when I was thirteen. House fire. Father was abusive—verbally, physically, controlled everything. Mother stayed despite it all.
"How did your father treat your mother?"
My jaw tightens. "Like a possession. Someone to control and break down until she stopped fighting back."
"And she stayed."
"She loved him." The words taste bitter. "Even when he was cruel. Even when he was dangerous. She loved him anyway."
Dr. Chen leans forward slightly. "What did you learn about love from watching them?"
The question stops me cold.
What did I learn?
The answer rises like bile in my throat.
"That love makes you vulnerable. That vulnerable gets you hurt. That people who love you have the ability to destroy you."
"Or that you can destroy them first."
I meet her eyes. She sees me. Completely.
"Tell me about Bailey," she says quietly.
So I do.
I tell her about the bar. The fake dating arrangement. London, when I opened up for the first time in my life. The way Bailey looked at me like I was worth something despite all my damage.
And then I tell her what I did.
"She was trying to tell me something important that night." My voice cracks. "I wouldn't let her finish. Called her a liability. Fired her. Made sure she'd hate me so thoroughly she could never come back."
"Why?"
"Because I was terrified."
"Of what?"
The truth comes out in a rush. "Of becoming my father. Of hurting her the way he hurt my mother. Of losing control and destroying her."
