Page 66 of This Time Around

I lay a gentle kiss on his lips and look up into his hazel eyes with every intention of demanding more of our kiss. My intentions are interrupted by his alarm. He groans.

“I thought you had today off,” I protest as I pull the blankets over us and snuggle in.

“I do, but I have a therapy appointment in an hour. I won’t be gone long. Stay right here. I’ll bring breakfast home,” he requests with subtle urgency.

“Luke, it’s already 9:00. By the time you finish, it will be lunchtime.” I roll into him. “I didn’t know you were in therapy.”

“I was in therapy after DJ died, and again while going through my divorce. I started going again after I spiraled when Adam came into the hospital. It resurfaced a lot of shit for me.” His voice is low, laced with a tone I haven’t heard before.

“I thought Adam was doing better?”

“He is, but with us still not talking, I kept going so I could work on myself. Be a better version of myself, this made me realize that I still have a lot to work through and that takes time. I have to allow myself the time.” He sighs.

I get up and walk to the shower. “What are you doing?” he asks

“I think I’ll go with you. We can work on ourselves, together as a couple. If nothing else, I’ll wait outside and we can go get lunch afterwards,” I suggest.

“I would love that. She urges her patients to bring family members with them to support the process. I’ll talk to her when we get there.” His smile brightens up the room.

We quickly get dressed, grab a coffee from the cart at the hospital, and now I’m sitting in the therapist’s lobby’s office waiting for Luke to come get me. The therapist said she wanted to meet with Luke alone, and then meet us together.

I take a slow sip of my coffee, the bitter warmth doing little to steady the frantic swirl of nerves bouncing around in my stomach like loose marbles. The idea of therapy has always felt distant. An abstract concept for other people. But now, sitting here, waiting, I feel the weight of what I’m about to step into. It’s not just therapy. It’s therapy with someone else, with Luke, a shared unraveling of truths I’m not sure we are ready to face. My hands tremble slightly when the therapist comes out and calls my name to join her and Luke in her office.

When I walk in the door, the first thing I notice is Luke standing facing me. The office is a blend of calm and clinical. I have no doubt it is designed to put you at ease without letting you forget you are here. Soft muted tones of beige and gray cover the walls, accented by two pieces of abstract artwork in gentle blues and greens. A pair of mid-century armchairs sits across from a plush oversized couch where Luke is standing. All of it angled around a small glass coffee table in the center. A faint scent of lavender drifts through the space, likely from a diffuser on a shelf nearby. There is a large window behind the chairs that lets in a great deal of natural light, even through the privacy of the tilted blinds.

I move next to Luke and we sit down next to each other, but he won’t let go of my hand. “I’m Bella,” the therapist says softly.

“Blake, nice to meet you,” I introduce myself, my voice more steady than I expected it would be.

“Let’s start with how you’re feeling right now. Blake, you go first,” Bella requests. She is an older woman, likely in her late fifties. She has dark hair with no traces of gray, but her eyes have light wrinkles in each corner. They are soft, as if formed overtime by smiling. Her words are very basic and straightforward, but her demeanor is soft and inviting. I see why Luke comes to see her.

“I’m a little nervous. I don’t know what to expect.” I turn to face Luke, “Have you done this before? I’m a little worried this could spark another fight between us.” I gesture between us with a worried expression.

Luke shifts in his seat, clearly nervous about it too.

“What makes you think that?” Bella asks, writing something in her notepad.

“Well, part of working on a relationship is talking about things that have happened so you can move past them, and we’re coming off a pretty big fight. We kind of broached the conversation earlier and it was good, we’re good, but I’m still nervous.”

“Was the fight big or were the feelings big?” she asks without taking her eyes off her notebook.

I pause. That’s one way of looking at it that hadn’t occurred to me. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s OK,” she has a soft smile. “Tell me what happened that led to the big fight.”

“There is a guy I met at a friend’s wedding before Luke moved back here. We had a one-night stand, and I thought he was a pretty big jerk about it, and it made me question who I want to be, what I want for myself. Well, it turns out-” I look at Luke, not sure what I can divulge about Cash since he’s volunteering here.

He reads my mind and interjects. “Cash,” he confirms with a nod.

Ok, we divulge everything here.

“He knows Luke, and-well, long story short, we were not on good terms because of a misunderstanding. Luke was really upset when he heard my accounts of what I thought he said about me. When Cash showed up to the soft opening of my bar with April, Luke’s sister, Luke lost it. They got into a fight and ruined the night. I was upset, but when we tried to talk about it the next morning emotions were high and Luke said some very hurtful things to me, so I packed a bag and left.” I feel like I’m a little kid tattling right now.

“Where did you go?” she asks.

“The bar. I had to work.”

“Were you going to stay there?”