“Before that.” I pause, looking back on the feelings I had for Liam—the surface level relationship we had and the inability to accept we weren’t compatible. On paper, it seemed easy and expected, like we were so similar that it was ridiculous to look for anyone else.
But I did love Liam.
At least, I’m pretty sure I loved him.
I wouldn’t have jumped in front of a bullet for him though.
And there were times I refused to back down just because I didn’t want him to win and created more conflict. We were more against each other than we wereforone another, viewing the world from the same lens but believing our own approaches were the best option. It was a selfish love, the love I had for Liam. But I’m pretty certain it was still love.
“You didn’t like your fiancé?”
“Not entirely.”
We both laugh.
“But you’re still angry at him for the wedding thing?”
“Oh for sure. Do you have any idea how much money I lost?”
She starts to play with the tassels of her shaggy rug—a bright yellow and white gingham print rug with fluffy tassels sticking out in different directions. Her bouncy dark curls fall to cover her face when she asks, “Why would you agree to marry someone you don’t like?”
She isn’t looking at me. She knows this is a boundary I have avoided crossing with my new friends here, and I have a feeling she doesn’t want to upset me by trying to get too personal.
Letting out a sigh I say, “We were both convinced we were too broken to be loved. I thought he was the best choice I had at a life with someone—thatwewere the best choice for each other. He would always ask, who could love people as dark and twisted as us?” My voice cracks. “And I believed he had a point, if no one would love someone like me, maybe I could force myself to love him. And I think he did the same.”
"Did it work? Forcing yourself?"
"Mostly. I did love him . . . in a way."
“Do you really think you aren’t lovable?”
I shrug. “Maybe. Who wants to love someone broken?”
“We’re all broken in some way! You’re a therapist, you of all people know that!”
“True, but who wants to love someone refusing to fix themselves? Someone who is so broken, they would rather fix other people than address their own issues?” I stare at her, driving my point home. “No one.”
She frowns at me. “I don’t believe that.”
“I have yet to find a single person on this planet that loves someone like that.”
“I know a person.” She smirks.
“Chill out! It’s not that serious!”
Is it though? Are my feelings for Bennyseriousfeelings? Are his?
“If it’s not serious, why would you ask him to be more than coworkers?” She air quotes with her hands. “Why entertain the idea of somethingnotserious?”
“Impulse?” I wince at my own absurdity, of course it wasn’t impulse. It is a thought that has been festering and building in my brain for months.
“Whatever! Don’t lie to yourself, and don’t lie to me. I deserve better!Wedeserve better,” she says, throwing her arms around Dolly and hugging her tight. Dolly licks her face, then runs away to grab one of her squeaky toys.
“Why does it even matter? I won’t be here much longer anyway! There’s no need to get worked up on dating Benny when I know we have an expiration date.” I feel the quiver in my voice building. Refusing to let it break, I stand up. “All ofthishas an expiration date! I won’t be here after the term!” My voice is getting loud and harsh. “I’m going back to my old life, my old job, my old clients! The dirty city . . . the loud subway . . . the lonely house with the expensive rent. The place where a dark, twisted, broken personlike mebelongs!”
My body is trembling as I fix my eyes on my feet. I stand there, feeling the yellow rug tassels with my toes, holding my breath. Refusing to look up, I blinked back the tears, letting one fall to the rug. I hear the rustling of the rug as Kate stands up and walks over to me, wrapping me in a hug.
“You belong here, with us.”
