Chapter 24
LEO
February 14
Six Weeks Later
Valentine’s Day. What a bloody stupid holiday. Do we really need a day to fake affection while reminding all the singles they’re on their own? If you truly care about someone, be a good partner every damn day. Date them, kiss them, cuddle up—show love by speaking their love language daily. That’s what I drill into my clients, albeit with more professional finesse. Today was a marathon of that, and it’s always heavier on V-Day. People pile on expectations, only to end up disappointed by their partners. Maybe we should just scratch this day off the calendar altogether.
I’ve got a session with Mer in fifteen minutes. We’ve been at it for six weeks now, doing EMDR. This is our fourth session. Normally, I wouldn’t mix therapy with friends, but I wouldn’t trust this with anyone else. EMDR’s a different beast; being friends matters less.
It’s been tough, brutal even, confronting my past again—emotional turmoil that’s painful to dredge up.
I want to do this for myself, for Andrew, for Chloe, but deep down, I know I’m doing this for Vivian. New Year’s made me realize that I want her in my life, I need her… but I don’t know how to step up. I’m unsure if th at’s truly what I want. Can I commit? Can I be a good partner? I don’t even know if she’d accept me at this point—she won’t see me.
“Leo,” I hear Mer’s voice echo down the hallway. I’m sitting in the break room. “I’m ready for you.”
I walk down the familiar hallway to Meredith’s office. It’s strange to be on this side of therapy, the patient’s chair instead of the therapist’s.
“Have you spoken to Vivian yet?” Mer asks, her tone hopeful, fingers laced together in anticipation.
I shake my head as I enter the room. “No,” I admit quietly. “She’s still avoiding me. I texted her this morning, wishing her Happy Valentine’s Day and letting her know I was thinking of her. She replied with a simple, ‘Thanks, Leo’.”
“That’s it? That’s all she gave you?” Meredith asks, sounding shocked.
I shrug. “It is what it is. She’s been cordial. We text here and there. Occasionally, I see her coming in or out. I just miss her.”
“I’m sorry,” she says, wrapping her arms around me, and I reciprocate.
“It’s alright.” I reply, my tone somber.
“Okay,” Meredith gestures toward her couch. “Are you ready to get started?”
“I guess as ready as I’ll ever be,” I mutter, sinking into the sofa and trying to find some comfort.
“Today, let’s continue our work on processing your feelings about your mom, okay?” Meredith suggests gently.
I nod, familiar with the routine.
“I want you to think about a specific memory or image related to her that brings up strong emotions for you. Can you bring that to mind?” Meredith adopts her therapy voice, distinct from her usual tone. Our first session didn’t go well because I kept laughing, never having heard it before.
I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’m thinking about the day the police came to our house. I was ten years old, and they were talking to my dad at the door.” I pause, trying to relive it. “I had been hiding around the corner, listening to them. ”
“Good. Now, as you hold on to that memory, notice any physical sensations or emotions that come up for you. Rate the intensity of those feelings on a scale from zero to ten,” Meredith says in a soothing tone.
With my eyes closed, I feel tension building. “It feels like a weight on my chest… maybe a seven out of ten.”
“Now, as you recall that memory and those feelings, I want you to follow the flashing-light movements with your eyes. Keep track of any thoughts, feelings, or images that come up.”
I nod once more, opening my eyes.
“Let’s begin,” she says professionally.
Meredith activates the light bar for bilateral stimulation, and I follow the flashing movements with my eyes—left, right, left, right.
“What are you noticing?” Meredith asks gently.
I take a few moments, choking down the emotion that bubbles in my throat before responding. “I’m feeling a lot of anger… resentment, hurt, confusion, and sadness. I never understood why she left… I blamed myself for so long. I don’t understand why she even had all of us.”
“Stay with that, Leo. Notice where you feel it in your body. Let it come up and then let it go. You’re safe here.” I hear emotion in Meredith’s voice, a rare occurrence.
“I feel abandoned, alone. She left us because of me. She hated me, Mer. It’s my fault that my siblings didn’t have a mum.” I choke out the words, tears streaming down my cheeks. I look away, pinching the bridge of my nose, squeezing my eyes shut.
“God, Mer. I fucking hate this.”
“It’s okay. It’s just me. You don’t have to be a hero with me.”
“I have so much bloody hatred for her, but somehow I still miss the idea of her. I miss that I didn’t have a mum, even though she was shit. It’s so goddamn confusing.”
“Okay. That’s okay. Let those feelings come. You’re processing it now, letting go of the pain that’s held on to you. Keep following the movement.”
I continue to track the movement of the light bar, waves of emotion crashing over me .
“Are you noticing anything else? Anything new?” Mer asks calmly.
“I have a knot forming in my stomach. I feel nauseous. I just… don’t feel worthy of love, not from her, not from anyone. I was only ten and felt like a disappointment, like I failed my family. I couldn’t keep Chloe alive… She needed her mum, and she wasn’t there for her.” I shake my head, overwhelmed with shame. “I didn’t know how to help. I had to be everyone’s everything. Andrew and Chloe’s mum and dad.”
“Okay, this is good. Let it out.”
“Even my dad was shit. Sometimes he was good, when he was there, but he didn’t even take time off when Chloe was on her deathbed. He just went to work. No wonder my mum hated him.” The realization surprises me. I shake my head in disbelief. “I had no idea I blamed my father for so many things.”
After thirty minutes of emotional torment and being vulnerable with Meredith, she turns off the light and takes a seat next to me.
“Hey,” she says, nudging me softly with her elbow and meeting my gaze. “That was really fucking awesome of you. Great job.” She wraps an arm around me. “Are you okay?”
I pull her into me. “Yeah, I’m okay. It was cathartic, but my pride is wounded.” I playfully nudge her. “Don’t ever tell anyone about this.”
She scowls. “You know I would never! I’m offended you feel you have to remind me.”
“I know. I know you wouldn’t. You’re a great friend, Meredith,” I say, forcing a smile.
“I think you had some great self-discoveries today. How do you feel?”
I meet her gaze. “I feel… lighter.”
She smiles. “Good. That’s great. If only you’d done this ten years ago.” She takes my hand and squeezes it, and I squeeze it back.
She starts to stand, but I stop her. “Mer, what do I do about Vivian?”
A sad smile spreads across her face, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know,” she whispers.
“I’m supposed to be taking her to Paris in two months, and I keep holding out on cancelling. I don’t want to. I’m so mad at myself. I just want to be what she needs, and I wish being her friend could be enough for us both.”
Meredith stares at me intently. “Why?” she says. “Why would you want that? To only be friends when the two of you could have so much more? God, you two could be so fucking great together.”
I’m taken aback by Meredith challenging me, and she presses on.
“Sometimes, you have to take risks, Leo. I don’t know what to tell you about Vivian, but be patient, keep doing the work for yourself.” Smiling, Meredith pats my knee and gets up. “I’m kicking you out of my office now, so I can lock up and get home to my wife. You know, my person that I risked everything for.”
“I get it.” I chuckle softly. “I get it.”