‘Yes you did,’ Ore replied, equally softly. ‘And I guess you’re right. I think that the way I felt about you, safe and understood, I’ve never had that from a man in my life. It was confusing and …’ she looked over at him; his expression was kind, and she felt her residual rage melt away ‘… overwhelming.’
‘It’s OK to need that, just … not from me.’ Kyle shrugged apologetically.
‘But wouldn’t it be better to just rely on myself? Isn’t that what you’ve been teaching me, with all that “toolbox” chat? That I need to fix my own problems …?’
‘Well yes, it’s important to be able to rely on yourself, but there’s nothing wrong with needing a guiding hand or a bit of support.’ Kyle had slipped back into his ‘therapy voice’, quiet but authoritative.
‘Just … not from you.’ She hadn’t meant it as a dig, but he hung his head.
‘I’m sorry, Ore, I wish it could have been different.’ Onceagain, she wasn’t sure what he was referring to … Did he wish that they hadn’t kissed? Or that he hadn’t been her therapist when they did?
Ore left their meeting with new resolve. She was going to kit out her toolbox, and dedicate herself to becoming adept at using them. And she wasn’t going to let herself fall into the trap of thinking that she needed a man’s help to do that. Men were for exciting love affairs, and fleeting dalliances. The work of straightening out her tangled mind, and toughening up her resilience, was hers alone.
It was that resolve that she had to tap into now, as she sat on the floor of her cabin, thoughts racing, and alone in the middle of the ocean. She had only herself to rely on. This was the test. She opened her eyes, scrambled over to her suitcase and began relaying all the strange happenings of her day into her growing pile of notes.
