Chapter 56
The way I deal with Mark leaving is to throw myself into my book proposal. It was Charles who randomly unlocked my writer’s block. I’d told him there was no way anyone would want to read about cheaters from a therapist who didn’t spot the signs in her own relationship.
‘Nella, my dear,’ he’d said one Friday when we were the last two in the clinic.
‘Do you think I opened this place because I’d never had an STD?
And that only a squeaky clean fuddy-duddy can be trusted to treat other people’s infections?
Of course not. I grew up in the seventies, for God’s sake.
I knew Elton before he was gay, back when his parties were full of pretty girls. Not that I remember any of them.
‘The point is, I caught every disease going, but those experiences helped me. I can empathise with my patients because I speak from painful experience. And now, so can you. Even The Heart Doctor can get her heart broken. How would she be relatable if she couldn’t?’
No half-measures for me – I went straight to the nuclear button.
At the beginning of September, a month after Mark leaves, I get in touch with my old therapist, Selma. I haven’t seen her for five years, but muscle memory takes me all the way from Chalk Farm tube to her house in Primrose Hill.
She greets me warmly when she opens the door.
‘You look really well,’ I tell her. She does – and not just for her age, even though she’s 80. She always has perfect make-up, amazing nails and glossy chestnut hair.
She leads me into the small ground-floor office where she still sees a few patients. The tweed armchairs and thick-piled carpet are exactly as I remember them. Homely and calming.
‘So, what brings you here?’ Her soft voice still has traces of Edinburgh, sixty years after leaving the city.
I blow out a breath. ‘A couple of months ago, I broke up with Rich, my boyfriend of five years. He cheated on me.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’
I tell her what a big shock it was and how my whole life was upended. How it affected my confidence to do my job.
‘But that’s not what I’m here to talk about.’ She nods and waits for me to continue. ‘Over the summer, I spent a lot of time with Mark. I knew him from school but hadn’t seen him for fifteen years.’
‘You’ve mentioned him before. He was Leo’s brother, wasn’t he?’
Her memory is a steel trap. I only hope mine is half as good when I’m 80. ‘That must have brought up painful memories.’
I swallow. Selma knows the whole story with Mark. She was the first person I ever told.
I tell her about the wedding and all the time we spent together over the summer and how, in my darker moments, I even thought that Rich cheating on me was payback for what I did to Leo.
‘It sounds like you’ve been through quite a challenging time.’
I smile. ‘It was, but I’m also pleased it happened because I didn’t used to think Mark was a good person, but I realise now that he’s one of the best people I’ve ever met.’
‘Best how?’
‘He’s got a strong sense of right and wrong. He stands up for what he believes and he really makes me laugh. He defends my parents without ever coming across like a kiss-arse and adores my brother and sisters even when they drive me up the wall.’
‘He doesn’t have his own sibling any more. Or much other family.’
‘Yes, it seems obvious now, but he made me value the things I took for granted, not by lecturing me, but showing me with his actions. Rich never gelled with my family and was often reluctant to spend time with them. It meant I gradually drifted away from them. I never want to take them for granted again, and that’s all down to Mark. ’
‘He sounds like a nice man.’
I laugh. ‘Yeah, it’s so weird to think that the first word you might reach for to describe Mark Marino is “nice”.’
‘Why is that weird?’
‘Because all my life his name has been synonymous with “unpredictable”, “unreliable”, and “downright scary”.’
Selma nods like I’ve just revealed something very telling.
‘He’s the sort of man you could fall for because he’s so heart-stoppingly gorgeous. What am I supposed to do now that I know that, in addition to all that superficial stuff, he’s got all these other amazing qualities, too?’
‘Why do you find it so difficult to admit to liking him?’
‘Because it would never work between us. The ghost of his brother would always hang over us. Leo’s the reason I became a therapist and the reason Mark became a heart surgeon.’
‘It doesn’t sound that Leo is coming between you, it sounds like he unites you.’
Her words make me freeze. She’s got everything backwards. Hasn’t she?
‘I’m not sure I see it like that.’
‘How does Mark see it?’
I frown. ‘He might not have an issue with my past with Leo, but I do.’
‘But you just told me how much you trust Mark’s moral compass.’
I shake my head, trying to order my thoughts.
‘In this one area, it’s difficult for me to agree with him. I cheated on Leo with Mark. I don’t want to be with someone who reminds me of the thing I’m most ashamed of doing in my life.’
‘You were very young. What would happen if you try to have a little compassion for your younger self?’
I don’t have an answer to that.
She tries another tack. ‘Is there a chance you’re using Leo as an excuse? Are there any other reasons why you might be scared to give Mark a chance?’
‘I’ve just ended one relationship. I don’t have the head space for another.’
‘And yet you’re here because your head is full of Mark.’
Another point I can’t argue with.
‘I’m still shaken by the break-up with Rich. It made me seriously question my own judgement. I look back at our relationship and can’t believe how many red flags I missed. What sort of couples’ counsellor am I if I can’t choose the right partner for myself? I can’t make the same mistakes again.’
‘So, let me make sure I’ve understood you properly. You feel the weight of getting your next relationship right because you’re a therapist. A big part of your identity is advising other people about their partners.’
‘Yes, exactly.’
‘Don’t you think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself? You’re just as human as your patients. Nobody’s perfect. And that’s okay.’
I sit with that for a few moments.
‘He’s moved to Venezuela.’
Her eyes widen. ‘That’s possibly more of a barrier to a relationship. But it’s interesting you didn’t lead with that.’
I smile. ‘The word “interesting” is doing a lot of heavy lifting there.’
She smiles, too. ‘You know how this works.’
‘I can’t talk my way out of the physical distance between us. It gives me carte blanche to ignore all these complicated feelings because, at the end of the day, we’re living on different continents, so all we can be is friends.’
‘You’re being kept apart by something you can’t change.’
‘Exactly. I miss him, but I get a perverse pleasure being miserable about it. I can tell myself we’re like tragic star-crossed lovers. I was crushed when things ended with Rich, and terrified I’d never recover. I can’t risk feeling that way again.’
‘But you did recover, didn’t you? I’m not saying you don’t bear any scars, but do you feel crushed now?’
‘No, but Mark was a great distraction. He made me feel wanted and attractive when I was at my lowest.’
‘Is that how you feel – that he was a distraction and nothing more?’
‘Maybe. I don’t know.’
‘It’s okay not to have the answers,’ she says.
‘I hate feeling like this.’
‘That’s the difficult part – sitting with uncomfortable feelings.’
She’s right. I tell my patients that all the time. But it’s hard to put into practice.
And the unsettled feelings remain long after I’ve left.