Rylee sighed then added, “He pops up just about every evening and helps with everything. He’s just…there. Notallthe time because obviously he has 24-hour shifts at the firehouse. He’s a firefighter?—”
“Yes.” Liz tried to ball her lips to hide her smile. “You’ve told me. Several times. Often nervously.”
“Well...” Rylee snorted. “To me, it is a dangerous job even though Xander swears it isn’t. Anyway…” She gestured with her hand next, as if she were physically moving that thought to the side for now. “He’s not around all the time, but any free time he has, he’s spending it at the brownstone and it’s a lot. You know?”
“Okay,” Liz answered. “And what about that feels wrong to you?”
“Oh.” Rylee frowned. “It’s not wrong. I didn’t say it was wrong. Did Isayit was wrong?”
“Your tone suggests you feel it is.”
Rylee shut her eyes and sighed once more. “I know, I sound stupid?—”
“You donotsound stupid.”
“Well then this brings me to what I mentioned a moment ago.” Rylee sat up in her seat. “LJ called him Dad the other day and my heart felt like it dropped out of my chest and hit the damn floor. Hard. So hard, I swore I felt the impact. I still feel it.”
Liz nodded then lowered her gaze to her black book to jot something down.
“And… it was so unexpected. So out of the blue. I…” Rylee shook her head. “I’ve been so intentional with always reminding the kids who their father is. I keep photos of him in their bedrooms, in mine, around the house.” Rylee lifted her arms and let them drop. “LJ didn’t ask if he could call Xander Dad. He just… said it.Dad. Blurted it right out at the dinner table when asking Xander to pass the ketchup.”
Rylee dropped her head into her hand, running her fingers through her long box braids.
“I just… IloveXander, and I love that my kids love him too, but…” She shook her head. “I need them to not love him likethat. Because they already have a dad. He isn’t here in the flesh, but they have one already.”
It made no sense, loving how Xander loved them while wishing he wouldn’t love them so much. Rylee knew that… but it was her truth.
Liz bobbed her head then lowered her attention to her notebook again to write in.
And Rylee giggled. “Oh come on now, Liz, don’t do me like that.”
Liz lifted her eyes to look Rylee’s way, her pen still moving in her notebook.
“Don’t give me the nod-and-write thing after I’ve said such a horrible thing.”
“It isn’t horrible,” Liz corrected, placing her pen inside of the notebook. “I’m just noting progress.”
Rylee furrowed her brows. “Progress?”
“Yes!” Liz beamed, nodding again, this time reassuringly. “Rylee, almost three years ago, you were sitting in that same chair across from me telling me you’d rather drink bleach than date. Do you remember that?”
Rylee exhaled a laugh while nodding her head.
“You refused to think about dating, which was completely understandable. But now…” Liz gestured at Rylee lovingly. “Now, Rylee, you have a partner who is present, loving, and not only committed to you but to your family, too.”
Rylee finally leaned back in her seat, her back resting against the throw pillows on the cozy couch.
This was another reason she loved coming to therapy. Liz had a way with reframing things, never making Rylee see the terrible in her thinking but providing clarity for her to see things a different way.
And Liz was right. It wasn’t long ago that Rylee rejected the idea of dating. She’d decided that getting into a relationship as a mother of two young children just wasn’t in the cards for her. She’d inundated herself with work, family, friends, to fill the space romantic love would take up. And without even looking, she found someone who was perfect for her… except he was too perfect, and for someone so used to disappointment, Rylee wasn’t used to perfect in her life.
“What you’ve told me,” Liz continued, “isn’t a problem at all. It’s a new level of healing you’ve arrived to. This is fantastic, Rylee. Truly.”
Rylee allowed a brief smile to pull at the corners of her lips, allowing Liz’s words to play on in her head.
This is fantastic.
This is good…
