The woman herself has aged, silver threading through her dark hair, but her eyes are just as sharp.
“Roman.” She gestures to the chair across from her desk. “I’ve been hoping you’d come in.”
I sit, hands gripping the arms. “Why did you wait for me?”
She settles into her own chair, calm and unhurried. “I knew you’d come when you were ready.”
“What made you so sure I’d come at all?”
“Because you’re your brother’s keeper. Always have been.” Her voice is certain. “I knew eventually you’d need to address that burden—either because it became too heavy or because you found something worth setting it down for.”
“Both, I guess.”
“Tell me about the something.”
I think about Marnie waiting in the lobby. About the bruise onher face that I put there. About waking up every December 29th for five years feeling like I’m drowning.
“Her name is Marnie. She’s the team’s head PT.” The words come easier than I expected. “She doesn’t take any of my shit.”
Dr. Kim’s mouth curves slightly. “Sounds like someone I’d like. How long have you been together?”
“A few months, officially. But it felt significant from the beginning.”
“And this relationship prompted you to come in?”
Direct. That’s why I’m here—no point avoiding it.
“Yes.” My throat is tight. “Loving her makes me afraid. Of failing her like I failed him.”
Dr. Kim doesn’t react to the statement. Just watches me steadily.
“Can you tell me more about how you believe you failed Matthew?”
The weight settles across my shoulders.
“I should have seen how bad it was. Should have stayed in Seattle instead of going on that road trip. Should have checked in more.” I stop. “Should have answered his call the night before.”
“Those are all things you think you should have done differently. But what did you actually do?”
I’m momentarily stunned. “I don’t understand.”
“What actions did you take regarding your brother’s care? Before he died.”
I force myself to think past the guilt.
“I helped him find you. Went to appointments with him when he asked. Called or texted daily. Moved him into my house when he was at his worst.”
“And did Matthew ever express that you weren’t doing enough?”
“No.” The word feels like a betrayal. “He was always telling me to back off. That I worried too much.”
Dr. Kim nods like I’ve confirmed something. “Roman, I’m going to share something that might be difficultto hear.”
I hold my breath. This is where she tells me it was my fault. Matty did blame me. He must have told her something and she’s been waiting years to deliver this blow.
“Matthew talked about you in nearly every session. About how much he admired you. How grateful he was for your support.” She pauses. “And how guilty he felt for being, in his words, ‘your responsibility instead of just your brother.’”
The air leaves my lungs.
