“With time.”
Nick raised his hands in defeat when we looked at him, turning to the sink to wash his cup. He hadn’t used the dish soap once in his life, but now decided to give the dishwasher a day off.
I gathered my things when Nick finished pretending; he knew what he was doing. I kissed his cheek, hugging the sketchpad to my chest.
“Are you taking Mel’s car?”
“Yes. I don’t think she’ll be up anytime soon; so she won’t need it.”
I hesitated, unsure what to do about Thomas: whether to kiss his cheek, or just say goodbye, so like a three-year-old, I settled for an awkward wave. I slipped on my ankle boots, grabbed a faux fur coat from the hanger, and walked out into the cool, December air.
London had nothing on New York when it came to traffic. Rows of cars queued at every corner; the pace of moving vehicles was comparable to a snail. It took forty minutes to get through the morning rush hour.
I should’ve made a pit-stop at the coffee place, but I left too late, and I arrived at James’s office five to nine, unarmed.
Daphne spoke on the phone when I entered the building. She greeted me with a wave and a sad smile, pointing to James’s office and shooing me away with a pencil. Her long, manicured nails gave me a wild idea. I shot Amelia a text message.
I need your help. Cure the hangover, and I’ll pick you up after twelve.
“Well, well, well,” James said, acting surprised to see me even though I rang him yesterday to schedule an appointment. “If it isn’t the runner. I see the trip to New York was great. You look glowing.”
He held out a cup of take-away coffee for me to take. At least one of us came prepared. The pleasant smell of vanilla and whipped cream made me feel right at home.
“It that a new therapy tactic?” I rose an eyebrow. “It’ll be a hit.”
“Oh,” he gasped theatrically. “So, you’re not my friend, anymore? Just a patient now, is that it?”
I sipped the hot coffee, then placed it on the table to take off my coat. The annoyance on James’s face subsided while he watched me struggle with the sleeves. Bruised ribs were a bitch. Every turn, every move and every breath caused pain, but it was nothing in comparison to broken ribs, so I didn’t complain, not even to myself.
“Where do you want to start?” James asked when I sat down, his features tainted with concern.
“I want to start making progress. Nick knows about everything. I kept it from him for so long, thinking he couldn’t handle it, but he’s okay. He’s stronger than I anticipated. I wish I had known that earlier. Maybe things would’ve been different now.”
“Telling him was the first step you took in the right direction, Nadia. Now, step two—losemaybe if,if I had onlyand all similar phrases from your dictionary for the time being. We’re dealing with the past here. There’s no changing it and channelling your efforts into producing hundreds of scenarios as to how things would’ve played out if you changed one detail is a waste of time.”
I closed my hands on the coffee, eying theFicus Benjaminain the corner. It grew a little again, but I was no longer curious about how many leaves grew out of its feeble branches.
“Your approach changed,” I pointed out. “You’re blunter. It’s nice.”
He smirked, and nodded, a glint in his eyes. “That’s becauseyouchanged. Your approach changed. You understand that the only person responsible for the way you feel is you, andnowyou’ll make progress.”
“If you want to change the world, start with you,” I said, picking on my nails. “I know all that, but I don’t feel like a fighter.”
I shook my head, gritting my teeth. It was harder than I anticipated. All the courage I built myself up with on the way to his office deflated, and the scared little girl inside me tried to take the stage.
Now or never. Let go of the blame, or let it eat you alive.
“I feel defeated.” I blinked the tears away. “I realised Adrian can’t be saved, and I feel like I failed him, myself and Thomas.”
When I parted my lips to speak again, I didn’t hold back. We chatted for hours. I had to recall the worst moments of my life and strip off the protective armour I had built, but I walked out of the office a little lighter.
James was right—I changed. The way I saw myself and Adrian changed. And most importantly: my determination quadrupled overnight, all thanks to Thomas. I was determined to make him want me again, but before that, I wanted to be the girl he deserved.
James had the whole morning available. It was quarter past noon when I left the building and strolled down the street, hiding under the large hood of my coffee-brown coat. Lunchtime in the city was pure madness. Businessmen crowded the streets, rushing with coffees in their hands and phones to their ears.
I dialled Nick’s number to let him know that the car shopping trip had to wait until tomorrow. I had different plans for the rest of the day.
Maybe it was silly; maybe it shouldn’t have been my first destination after arriving back in London, but I wanted to take care of my body.