Sitting down at the desk, I smoothed my hands over the surface, enjoying the feel of the wood. Taking a moment to open all the drawers, I found pads of paper, pens, post-its, and an assortment of office supplies. There was also a brand new laptop in the next drawer and some files on the bottom. When I turned to the other side and opened the drawer, I was momentarily stunned by what I found.
Reaching in, my hand wrapped around a silver frame, and I pulled it out. Inside were photos from the art benefit. One was our table as we chatted, another of me dancing with Nicco, and the last of Jude on stage speaking. I hadn’t known they’d been taken, the professional photographer blending into the background seamlessly.
A knock on the door had me wiping my eyes as I looked up, finding Atticus smiling at me. “It’s to make do until we can get a real family photo made of all of us.”
“I love it.” I pulled it to my chest, wrapping it in a hug. “It’s just missing a few people.”
“I didn’t know if you could have our photos, so we put them on the side so you could decide, or at least have them near you when you needed to remember the people who loved you.”
“Don’t ever say you’re not romantic, Attie.”
“You make it easy, Lore.”
I beamed at him, wishing I had more time to show him how much I loved him. Atticus must’ve read the desire in my face as he stepped toward me. A buzzer on the phone went off, startling us both.
“Press it,” he said, smiling softly.
“Hello?”
“Loren? It’s me, Jill. I’m here for my appointment.”
“Oh yes, one-second dear.”
“Come on, I’ll show you to the door.”
I stood, walking toward him, and he grabbed my hand, leading me toward a small entrance a few feet away. He demonstrated how to use the safety features, which included a video camera of the area and a panic button that would send an alert to the rest of the house and guards. Atticus kissed me quickly on the cheek before walking in the opposite direction. Schooling my features, I put myself back into therapist mode and opened the door.
“Jill.”
She turned at the sound, smiled at me, and practically rushed me as she quickly walked over. “Loren! I’m so glad you were able to start sessions again. How are you? I heard what happened on the news about the break-in. That must’ve been scary! And the fire! I’d been there that same day.” She spoke a mile a minute, firing questions at me, showing her concern.
Taking her hand, I squeezed, trying to calm her down. “Jill, I’m okay. Thank you. I’m glad you’re safe too.” I avoided any other topic about the fire, not wanting to think about my father dying in the middle of a session. “How about we go to my office, and you can catch me up on how your progress has been?”
She nodded, her face blushing when she realized how she’d bombarded me with her questions. Pulling her along, I directed her to the space that was now my own.
“Take a seat wherever.”
“Wow, this is beautiful. I love it,” she said, sitting on the couch.
“Thank you, my husband surprised me with it.” It hurt my heart to say only one, but I didn’t want to get into it with a client on the why choose motto I’d taken in my personal life. I still had some boundaries left in me.
After some catching up, Jill began talking about what she’d been working on in her journal while we’d been on a hiatus. I’d given it to her to do as homework until we could meet again.
“The other day, I was writing, and I didn’t even know what I was writing, but when I looked back on it, I realized how much had poured out. I’m starting to let go of what was done to me. It feels weird to say that, but it’s not as triggering anymore.”
“That’s great, Jill. There’s something I want to caution you about. There’s this concept in therapy where sometimes, when you start to feel better because the therapy is helping, you jump in too quickly, too soon, and end up setting yourself back more than when you started. It’s hard not to when you’re feeling the powerful effects of healing, but I just want you to make sure you’re pacing yourself. Therapy is hard work at times. It takes learning the skills and mastering them on small intervals to be ready for the big things.”
She nodded, thinking about what I said. “That makes a lot of sense, actually. In skating, if I get too cocky and try to throw a jump I’m not ready for, I’ll injure myself more than if I’d just waited until I’d built up the muscle memory and stamina for it. So, you’re saying I shouldn't be trying to throw triples when I’m still learning doubles?”
I smiled, liking that she figured out an analogy that worked for herself. “Exactly. I do hear and see the growth you’re making, and I commend you on the hard work you’ve put in. I just don’t want you to fall backward. It’s hard getting to where you are, and to have to find this place again after losing it would be detrimental to your progress. So, how about today we pick something you’ve been working on and deal with it, using the skills we’ve gone over so you can see how to use them in small situations first.”
“Okay, I think I know something that would be good. In many ways, I see Donald as the worst part of the whole thing, but really, it was Alek and the other men on the Council. They…” She shook her head, realizing she was heading down a dark path. “Yeah, you’re right. I’m not ready to face that yet. Let’s deal with the director.”
Over the next thirty minutes, I worked with Jill to recount her traumatic experience and helped her find new ways of thinking about it, identifying that she wasn’t to blame and that while there were different choices she could’ve made, it was pointless to dwell on them.
“The thing to remember, Jill, is that yes, you could’ve told someone sooner, but there’s no way of knowing if that would’ve changed any outcomes. It could’ve even been a worse one. The brain likes to try to find the solution, to avoid making the same mistake. What it fails to realize is that life isn’t black or white. Nothing is ever the same circumstances or situation. You change one thing, and the whole outcome can shift. So, spending time trying to figure out where you messed up only makes you go crazy. It’s already happened. So instead, work on changing the narrative, letting go of the shame, and not letting it control you. Your past is just that, your past. It doesn’t have to be your future.”
Jill nodded, wiping her eyes. “Thank you. I never thought about it that way. It’s not something I ever plan to put myself through again, so there’s no reason to replay all my mistakes repeatedly.”