I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. What if telling her the truth means she doesn’t want to be my friend anymore? What if she…’
He looks at me. ‘What if she leaves you? What if you offer her love and your whole, real self, and she rejects you?’
I know what he’s getting at. What if she deserts me like my parents did?
‘Did you have the same struggle in your relationship with Justin?’ he presses, and I stare down at my lap. ‘Being honest with him about how you felt, I mean?’
‘I guess so,’ I say quietly after a minute. ‘But I don’t know if I was being honest with myself around him either.’
He leans forward slightly. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I suppose I mean’—I clear my throat—‘I think I was lying to myself as much as I was to Justin. I kept telling myself I wanted this. I wanted to look after him, I wanted to be there for him, I wanted to wash and dry and iron his clothes. I told myself I wanted the relationship with him.’ I shake my head. ‘But I don’t think I did, not really. I was lying to him and to myself. Maybe that’s why I was so shaken when he dumped me. Because I was that deep in the lie. I was so entrenched in it, I couldn’t fathom that our relationship was… well, total shit.’ A wet spot lands on my hand, and I realise I’m crying. He hands me a tissue as the tears come thick and fast.
After a few minutes, I attempt a smile, trying to trick mybrain into cheering up. ‘Let’s talk about something else for a minute,’ I say. ‘I meant to ask – how’s your mum doing?’ His careful-therapist face slips just a little.
‘She’s great. She’s been resting a lot and taking it easy, but she’s doing much better. Thank you for asking.’ He reaches around to the table behind his armchair. ‘In fact, she sent you some brownies to say thanks for looking after her favourite son.’ He hands me a Tupperware, and I shake my head with delight.
‘Oh my god, that’s so nice! Tell her that her favourite son, Jake, didn’t even need my help, he had all his friends there, looking after him.’
Edward gives me a stern look that makes my stomach flip. ‘Hey,’ he warns.
I laugh. ‘I’m joking. Team Edward all the way. You are second only to my loyalties to Team Charlie Swan.’ I nod at the cakes. ‘Can I have one?’ He nods.
‘Have them all, they’re yours.’ He smiles again. ‘She’s actually very upset she didn’t get to meet you, though it wouldn’t have been the best time.’
‘Maybe another day,’ I say thoughtlessly, and then feel myself flush. Why would I meet her another day? I take off the lid and offer him the tub. ‘I will allow you one,’ I say grudgingly, and he excitedly accepts. We both chew silently, regarding each other.
‘Did you try out your homework?’ he asks after swallowing, and I try not to notice the crumbs freckling his white shirt. He’s quite the messy eater. Why do I find itcute when he shows me his flaws? Maybe because he is so close to having none. The more real and human he gets, the more I like him.
It’s just transference, cut it out, Liv.
Ugh.
A chocolate chip lands in his lap, and I smile. His next patient will love seeing a dent in her therapist’s perfect armour.
‘I did indeed.’ I reach for my handbag, pulling out the anger journal where I’ve made a few notes. ‘I tried screaming into a pillow – a lot of fun but slightly suffocating. I also tried some painting, which ended up being a very intense black vortex of nothingness, which I assume means I’m completely fine’—I grin—‘and I also went back to kickboxing.’ I beam, remembering all that cathartic sweat. ‘I think I’ll be doing a lot more of that, it unleashes something in me. I feel amazing afterwards.’
‘That’s great,’ he says happily, and a crumb bounces off his shirt and onto his lap to join the chocolate chip. I follow its progress then realise I’m staring at hislap.
‘Um, so you think my parents really fucked me up, huh?’ I say quickly, and he looks a little surprised.
‘You asked me earlier if I think you push people away,’ he says thoughtfully. ‘Doyouthink you push people away?’
‘I was thinking about our conversation about my mum – and my dad,’ I say, trying not to get emotional. ‘They were the two people who were meant to love me most. They were meant to think I wasamazing. And they didn’t.’
‘Our brains love a pattern,’ he says. ‘When you’ve grownup with love being this cauterised thing, without feeling or affection, maybe you assume that is what love should be.’
‘So, I tell myself I want love, like everyone else,’ I continue, ‘but I’m also afraid of it, because it wasn’t a good feeling when I was young. And anything real, with real passion and real care and kindness…’—I shake my head—‘would be very alien, right? It would be very scary and even feel wrong.’ I take a second. ‘When I kissed you…’ I swallow hard and he interrupts me.
‘I am bound by an ethical guide…’ he says robotically. There is panic in his eyes and I can hear the dump truck backing up – beep beep – ready to tell me to sling my hook.
‘God, Iknow,’ I say quickly. ‘That’s what I mean, it’s what I was going to say. A big part of me must’ve known it was wrong when I came on to you. Rejection and abandonment are part of what love is for me, right? It’s what that twisted inner child perceives as love. And so, I kissed someone that would have to reject me.’
We look at each other, and for a moment – just for a split-second – I think I see pity in Edward’s eyes. And it stings so much.
He’s not interested in me. It’s oh-so clear now. Not at all. Maybe he was once, before. A while ago. Maybe he even was for half a second when we shared that kiss. But now it’s obvious I’m just a client to him. A patient in need of a lot more therapy. He’s seen these awful, humiliating, embarrassing parts of me, and any flicker of what could’ve been has been doused with water.
But thereissomeone out there who I can trust to still love me once I’ve shown them the worst parts of myself. Who has proven herself time and time again. I have to go see Samira right now and tell her how sorry I am. I need to be completely honest with her about all of it, and believe that she won’t leave me. Because we might have that running joke between us where I say I love you, and she tells me to fuck off, but I know – bones-deep know – that shedoeslove me. And I need her in my life.
