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“Anytime. You know that.”
It comes as no surprise to him that’s why she asked him to meet. Their relationship began as a teacher-student dynamic, which, after a decade of marriage, is still at the core of their connection. Holly has always been most drawn to him when she’s vulnerable. And he has always accepted that and, when necessary, capitalized on it.
Aaron beckons a server with a wave, but when the young man with the sleeves of tattoos arrives to take Holly’s order, she declines, explaining that she doesn’t have time to stay for a meal.
Aaron swallows his disappointment. He can tell from the way his wife keeps looking at the table how troubled she is. “What’s wrong, Holl?”
“This client of mine.” She clears her throat. “She didn’t respond well to our last session.”
Aaron raises an eyebrow. “Under ketamine?”
She hesitates. “Yes.”
Aaron has to bite his tongue. While he isn’t as vehemently opposed to the use of psychedelics in therapy as some of his colleagues, he has never remotely considered them to be the panacea—the Holy Grail of psychotherapeutics—that Holly and her grandfather do. And he certainly doesn’t trust them to be free of risk. “What happened in the session?”
“My client had a serious dysphoric reaction. I had to sedate her with midazolam. She clung to me afterwards. Trembling like a leaf. She wouldn’t let go. Now her memories are all jumbled.” Holly swallows. “She’s misinterpreting that embrace, Aaron.”
“Misinterpreting? As in, she thinks it was inappropriate?”
“Yes.”
They had argued before over Holly’s clinical use of these potent drugs with patients, which Aaron has always viewed as too aggressive, verging on cavalier. Holly has never been willing to accept the obvious—that she is playing with fire. He has to restrain himself from saying, I told you so. What she needs most now is his unconditional support. And besides, he might not get another opportunity like this anytime soon. “Does your client have a history of being sexually abused?”
Holly nods. “In her childhood, yes. She exhibits classic PTSD symptoms. But her specific memories of that abuse only surfaced during our work together.”
“Which would make her particularly susceptible.” His gaze drifts off toward the ocean. “Was her abuser female?”
“No. But my client identifies as gay. And she has consistently struggled with physical intimacy issues in her relationships.”
“Makes sense.” Aaron looks back to his wife. He can’t help noticing how her fragility softens the sharpest of her features, the angle of her jawline and the ridges above her copper-brown eyes. “Obviously, you explained to your client what really did happen?”
“I tried.”
“But she wasn’t convinced?”
“No.”
“And you’re worried she’s going to do something… rash?”
“That’s one of my concerns.”
“What else?”
“We’ve been making real progress over the past three months,” Holly says. “Elaine was… emerging from that shell of childhood wounds. But she has other issues, too. Namely, addiction.”
“To?”
“Opioids.”
“And you’re worried she might relapse?”
Holly exhales. “She walked out of our session. I’m not convinced she’s coming back.”
“That’s her decision, Holl. Sounds to me like you reached her in a way no one else has.”
“But what good did it do her?”
“I bet her response—her misremembering of what happened with you two—is at least in part attributable to transference,” Aaron says, using the psychological term to describe when a client misinterprets a therapeutic connection and empathy for a romantic attachment to their therapist.
