Page 118 of Letters From A Stalker

He continues, keeping his tone conversational. "You can check on her because you love her. You can visit her tomorrow, next week or whenever you want to spend time with her. None of that has to happen on your mother's schedule simply because your mother created a situation that made you feel responsible for fixing it."

That lands more cleanly than I expect.

"So I can go see Nanna without it becoming another way of doing what Mom wanted."

"Exactly."

I let out a breath and settled deeper into the chair. "That sounds ridiculously obvious when you say it."

"A lot of things do after somebody else says them."

I smile faintly. "Convenient profession you've chosen."

His mouth shifts with the beginning of a smile, but he doesn't turn the conversation into another exchange of jokes.

Instead, he glances down at his notes before looking back at me.

"What do you want to do?” The question is simple enough that I don't need long to answer it.

"I want to see Nanna."

"Then go see Nanna."

I nod. "Maybe Sunday. I'll take breakfast over and let her complain about television for three hours."

Kai's expression warms. "Sounds like a plan."

"And I'm not telling Mom beforehand."

"Also your choice."

I laugh quietly, but the relief underneath it is real. For once, the conversation doesn't end with me feeling as though therapy has peeled several layers of skin off and sent me into the world raw. Nothing enormous has been solved. Mom is still Mom, and I will probably still feel guilty the next time she decides my independence is evidence that I don't love her enough. But I didn't apologize. I didn't drop everything, and I can go see my grandmother because I want to see her, not because my mother's bad mood drafted me into cleanup duty. That feels manageable.

When Kai finally glances toward the clock, I know we're close to the end before he says anything. "We should stop there today."

I reach for my bag and stand. "Fine. Before you give me another personality trait to work on."

A little amusement appears in his eyes. "I think you have enough homework."

"Finally."

He stands as well and walks me toward the door, but before I reach it, his voice stops me. "Julia."

I turn.

He is watching me with the same steady expression he had when he told me he was proud of me. "You handled Saturday well."

Something tightens briefly in my throat. "I felt horrible."

"I know." His tone stays gentle. "That doesn't mean you handled it badly."

I hold his gaze for a moment before nodding. "Okay."

This time, I almost believe it.

22

Kai