“In here, everything discussed is confidential.” She sits crossed legged on her winged arm chair and offers for me to sit. As I look around the room, I notice a bean bag, a regular chair, and a sofa. I opt to sit on the sofa, and put my bag snug up against my body. “So, tell me Lily. When did it start?”
I get a frightening jolt. I realize now maybe I should have checked Katherine out a little more thoroughly. But the way she’s looking at me, smiling, and inviting me to pour my heart out breaks me.
I burst into sobs.
Uncontrollable tears fall from my eyes. The heaviness that has always weighed on my chest suddenly lifts and every emotion I’ve had, rushes to the surface.
An ocean of shame, embarrassment, resentment and weakness spills from me. The tears are clearly my way of me dealing with so many years of abuse, repression, and helplessness.
The next ninety minutes go by in a complete daze, full of the intense agony I’ve felt for so many years.
Nothing specific is discussed, but I can sense that Katherine knows all about me just by the way I react to her words.
The hour and a half flies by, and we accomplish nothing. Or so it feels to me. At the end, Katherine says to me, “Have you got someone to take you home?” I shake my head. “You can’t be on your own.”
“Shayne and Liam are staying at his parent’s place tonight, so it’s only me.”
“Lily, I want to see you straight after Christmas. I really believe you’re ready to let everything go, and move on with your life. But tonight, a nice hot bath and one glass of wine.” She winks at me, and I barely manage to crack a small smile. “Are you sure there’s no one you can ask to take you home?”
“Um, maybe. I need to call him and ask.”
“I’ll give you a moment, come out to my mom’s desk when you’re through and we can make another appointment.” Her mom? I don’t even know why, but it gives me even more comfort to know her mom works here. Maybe it’s because they’re a family, and I’ve never really had anything like that in my life.
Taking a few deep breaths, I finally manage to settle myself. I’m still hurting, not physically, but emotionally. But I’m more myself than I’ve ever been. It’s cathartic, cleansing even, knowing I’ll be able to talk to someone I already have a connection with.
I take my phone out, and scroll to find Max’s number. It rings a few times before he answers it, “Lily, what a wonderful surprise.”
“Can you please come pick me up?” My voice sounds unsteady, even to my ears.
“Are you safe?” he asks immediately.
“Yes, I’m at my psychologist’s and I need…” What do I say? What do I need? I need more than someone to take me home, I just need someone.
“I’m on my way. What’s the address?” I give him the address and tell him I’ll be waiting outside for him. “You will not wait outside, I’ll come in. I’ll be there soon.”
“Thank you, Max.” We hang up and I go out to find Katherine, and her mom.
“How are you, dear?” her mom asks me.
“I feel like I’ve been run down by a train. My head’s still reeling, and I can’t seem to regulate my heartbeat,” I honestly admit.
Katherine wishes me a good night, and a good Christmas, and tells her mom to set another appointment for me for early next week, when they re-open after Christmas.
“You know,” her mom starts saying as she perches her glasses on the end of her nose and squints at the computer. “Katherine always gets it right.”
I look at her in question, not really understanding what she’s saying. “Okay,” I say as I hand over money to pay.
“I’ll see you next week, dear. You have a lovely Christmas,” her mom says. And I’m left wondering what on earth her cryptic clue, ‘Katherine always gets it right’ means.
The door buzzes and I hear Max telling Katherine’s mom he’s here to pick me up. “Thank you. Merry Christmas,” I say as I leave.
Going downstairs, Max is waiting for me on the curb. The moment I see him, every raw and exposed nerve sparks to life, and the tears begin again.
He engulfs me in his arms, he wraps himself around me, as he gently strokes my hair and tells me, “Everything’s going to be okay.”
We stand in the isolated street for a long time. Snow begins to fall and small flakes softly land all over us and around us.
My ear is pressed into Max’s chest, and his arms are tightly embracing me. I can hear the constant thump of his heart, and match my breathing to the nice easy pace of the rise and fall of his chest. When the severe, sharp anguish finally eases, I let go of Max and step back to look at him. “Thank you.” I breathe in, and then out trying to find the right words. “I needed that.”