“What did you do with that feeling?”
“I did the only thing I knew how to do.” My fingers clamp around the back of the chair until they ache. “I grabbed the loudest microphone I have and pointed it at myself.”
“And now?”
“Now, I’m stuck here refreshing my phone like it’ll give me a different outcome. I’m watching strangers dissect her life and what she means to me, and every instinct in me wants to jump into the line of fire again.”
Dr. Shah lets the silence form enough space for the burn behind my eyes to spill over. I swipe it away, irritated at myself.
“Say it out loud,” she urges. “What are you afraid of?”
“That I broke her life trying to prove I love her.” The words come out thin, shredded. “That she’ll lose everything she fought for because I couldn’t stay in mylane. That she’ll wake up and realize I’m the worst mistake she’s ever made. That she’ll choose survival over me… and she’d be right.”
“And what part of you believes that?”
“All of me.” Shame settles like lead. “She’d be safer if she never met me.”
She lets that sit before speaking. “Kyle… tell me where you are.”
“My condo,” I mutter. “Living room. Kitchen. Ring light. Coffee mugs.”
“Who is with you?”
“No one.”
“That’s important,” she says. “You’re alone in there with your thoughts. And inside those thoughts, you’re judge, jury, and executioner. You’re deciding for Alycia what she thinks, feels, and chooses. None of that is reality. That’s fear wearing a mask of realism.”
I shift, throat tight. “Someone has to be realistic.”
“Is it realistic to say you made a choice with consequences? Yes. Is it realistic to say you’ve destroyed her life before either of you knows the outcome? No. That’s you trying to control a story you don’t want to watch unfold.”
“Feels finished from here.”
“That’s fear,” she says calmly. “Not fact. Give me facts.”
“Fact: I posted the video. Fact: the internet is chaos. Fact: Cooper told me to stay put. Fact: management hasn’t said anything. Fact: Alycia went to work. Fact: I haven’t heard from her.”
“Good,” she says. “What else is true?”
“Last night she told me she loved me and meant it.” My voice wavers. “She said she’d choose me even if it cost her. I’m terrified. She probably is, too.”
“What do those facts tell you about what’s happening between the two of you?”
“That we’re in it together,” I say slowly. “That she’s not collateral. She’s choosing it, too. That we’re… a team. Even if everything around us is chaos.”
Something loosens behind my ribs. Just a fraction.
“Notice that,” she says. “Where did you feel it?”
“In the same place the guilt sits,” I answer. “But lighter.”
She nods once. “Kyle, your instinct has always been to run into the fire for the people you love. You absorb blame before anyone can hand it to you. That instinct has protected people. It’s also punished you.”
A humorless breath slips out. “I feel it.”
“You don’t trust people you love to stand beside you,” she continues gently. “You decide for them what they can handle. And then when things hurt, you blame yourself for not carrying more.”
“I’m trying to keep her safe.”
