Chapter 24
They're Nice Words
Alek
My life has unraveled in ways I never imagined. I never thought I’d fuck things up badly enough to lose the woman I love. Still, I refuse to surrender my last hope that she’ll forgive me.
When I heard she was about to win Songwriter of the Year, pride nearly knocked the wind out of me.
That feeling overrode the ache of loss, driving me to pull every string I could to get a ticket.
Nothing would keep me from witnessing the biggest moment of her career.
Later, as her speech echoed in my mind, a bittersweet mix of joy and regret flooded me.
I hate that my mistakes gave her the pain she needed to write Not Your Just Because, but she would have written a masterpiece without my mess.
My therapist says that sometimes things happen in the order they need to happen.
It turns my stomach to know she had to endure that kind of pain to earn her award. When I remember her pure joy as she accepted it, I feel a small easing of the self-loathing I carry, as if her happiness offers me a brief relief from my own guilt.
I stayed hidden because she deserved to bask in her moment, untouched by my shadow. The idea of her smile fading at the sight of me was more than I could stand.
She nearly spotted me. For a heartbeat, her eyes locked on mine, and I froze, then scrambled to disappear into the sea of people before she could be sure.
Rarely in my life have I felt jealousy as fiercely as I did that night.
At first, I’d been excited to see her, but watching her on Titan’s arm when it should have been mine was a gut punch.
They looked right together, and the way he watched her made it clear to everyone that his feelings remained.
I told myself not to care, but envy prickled under my skin, sharp and sudden, eclipsing everything else.
At least, that’s what the jealous side of my heart was telling me.
Fuck, she was breathtaking, though.
I was a fool. I convinced myself I could keep Hayvin at arm’s length and it wouldn’t matter.
I took her love for granted, and knowing that devours me.
I hurt her, and now my words mean little.
When I answered her questions, her disbelief punched me in the gut—a stark reminder of how deeply I let her down.
Pulling into my therapist’s parking lot, I snatch my phone and scan the call log for missed calls. Maybe she reached out, and I just didn’t hear it. It’s unlikely, but I can’t let go of that hope.
She hasn’t reached out since our last talk, and it’s tearing me apart. I get it, but the fear of losing her is suffocating.
What if that’s the last time I ever talk to her?
No, I refuse to believe that.
I have to believe I haven’t screwed up so badly that I’ve lost the only person who ever loved me without limits.
***
My knee jitters restlessly while Lionel digests the torrent of words I unleashed the moment I crossed his threshold.
Lionel rhythmically taps his pen on his notepad and regards me thoughtfully.
Thoughts churn behind his eyes, and it’s inevitable he’ll share them with me soon.
He always waits for me to speak first. I never realized why until my third visit, when the silence became unbearable.
I questioned the value of these sessions—paying just to sit, locked in quiet eye contact.
Finally, I blurted out, asking why he wasn’t doing his job.
He chuckled, explaining he was waiting for me to open up.
He can’t help anyone unwilling to be helped, and my silence showed I wasn't ready yet.
I needed to break the ice, so to speak.
And I didn’t just break it. I smashed it into pieces.
By the time I finished unloading every toxic thought that had been crushing me, the heaviness vanished. Suddenly, I felt light, almost buoyant. Hope crept in, more than I could ever remember feeling.
But that hope didn’t last. It faded after my conversation with Hayvin and the silence that stretched between us.
Lately, we’ve been working on where my fear comes from.
I thought I had my reasoning. I thought I was scared of love, but Lionel calls bullshit.
He told me that seeing what Charlie and Keaton went through could have tainted my view, but it’s not the actual reason.
Lionel doesn’t even think it’s love I fear.
He believes it’s deeper than that. After realizing how much I love Hayvin and how easy it was to tell her after she left, I think he’s right.
When we discussed how my parents essentially abandoned me as a child, leaving me with nannies who also left...
Someone who always claimed they loved me was the one who was always leaving.
It was only a matter of time before Hayvin did, too.
“At the end of our session last week, you stated it was only a matter of time. Elaborate on that,” he says.
“People always leave. If my parents couldn’t love me and wouldn’t stay, how the hell could I expect anyone else to?” I finally reply to his question.
“So, instead, you’re going to leave first.” I open my mouth to refute his statement, but he holds up his pen, letting me know he’s not finished.
“Physically, you were there. You hadn’t checked out completely.
Your fear of abandonment is so ingrained in you that you were self-sabotaging without realizing that’s what you were doing. ”
“Why didn’t I do that with Charlie or other women before then?”
“Because they didn’t matter. Not in the sense that Hayvin does. They were never a threat. You didn’t view them as anything more than temporary. So, in your head, they were already gone. There was no reason for you to have to sabotage anything. It’s different from Hayvin.”
“Because I love her?”
Lionel smiles and nods. “You love her, and because of that, your mind kept telling you she would leave. Once you fixated on that, you began to self-sabotage without being conscious of it.”
“So, you’re saying I have mommy and daddy issues,” I grumble.
Lionel grimaces. “If that’s the way you need to put it.”
“Fucking fantastic,” I grumble.
“Don’t act so fatalistic about it. More people do without realizing it than you could probably imagine.”
“What do I do about it? How do I fucking fix it?”
"This won’t be fixed in one session, Alek.
We’ve been working toward this moment since your first visit.
" Lionel writes on his notepad, then sets his pen down and steeples his fingers. "Let’s pivot. You were worried Hayvin hadn’t contacted you since your last conversation.
Do you feel entitled to a response as a reward for being a good boy and knowing things about her? "
I jerk back at his words and scowl at him. “What? No! Absolutely not. She doesn’t owe me anything. She never has.”
Lionel’s lips curl up on the sides, and I narrow my eyes. “You goaded me.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. That wouldn’t be very professional of me.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.” We lapse into silence. Lionel studies me with that unreadable therapist look, making me squirm. “She may never forgive me, no matter what I do,” I finally admit, slumping back in my chair.
“Nice words, Alek. What are you actually going to do, though?” Lionel asks.
I groan and scrub a hand over my face. Anxious frustration begins to rise. "I don’t know, okay. This is a position I’ve never been in because no one got close enough."
Lionel scribbles some notes, and I wait, knowing he’ll drop some hard-hitting wisdom when he’s done.
While I wait, my phone vibrates with a text. I check it, expecting nothing, but my heart leaps when I see Hayvin’s name.
Anticipation sparks—a jittery thrill, like a kid tearing into a first Christmas present—as I open her message.
Just two words, but they ignite the first real hope I’ve felt since she left.
“From that smile, I’m guessing that’s her?” Lionel nods towards the phone.
"Yeah." I show him the screen. "She told me to prove it." I look at him. "I will."
“I have no doubt. Do you know anything about love languages, Alek?”
“No, should I?”
“It would help. I’ll go over them with you, but I want that to be your homework this week. Research as much as you can about them. Figure out which is yours and which is Hayvin’s. It’ll help you through all this. You’ve said before that Hayvin was always big on words.”
I nod. “When we first got together, she trusted my words. But the longer I went with my actions contradicting them, she stopped trusting them.”
“So, now she trusts your actions because that’s where you showed her your truth lies.”
“Yeah.”
“Your actions will matter most going forward. Whatever you do, let them stand out.”
“What are these love languages you’re talking about?”
“They’re controversial. Not everyone believes in them.
Many people, myself included, believe there are hundreds of ways to express love in a relationship.
Relationships are too complex to have only five ways to express love to your partner.
But I think reviewing these with you for your situation will give you a starting point.
Every person is different, which means their love language will be different.
Some will have only one, and some will have many.
In theory, there are five total: words of affirmation, quality time, acts of service, gifts, and physical touch.
With words of affirmation, you value verbal acknowledgments.
So, saying "I love you," genuinely encouraging them, kind words… things like that. You’d enjoy cute little love notes or text messages for this one. Doing these things makes them feel appreciated and understood.”
“That’s hers.” I shake my head with a grimace. “Or…well…it was. I don’t know if it would be anymore.”
Lionel nods and continues. “Quality time should be easy to figure out. The people with this love language value your time. They feel the most adored when you want to spend time with them without their prompting. Quality over quantity, Alek. They seek your undivided attention without distraction. If your love language is acts of service, it’s the little things that make your life easier.
Washing the dishes, making coffee in the morning, and running errands, just to name a few.
You need to pay attention to this because those with this love language believe actions speak louder than words. ”
I jot a reminder in my phone to dig into this later. Vin needs proof, not promises. She has to see my love, not just hear it.
He waits until I’m finished writing and peer back up at him before he continues.
“Gifts. This one is pretty straightforward. With this love language, the more effort and thoughtfulness behind the gift, the more it counts. It doesn’t need to be anything extravagant.
Make it meaningful. Things that matter and reflect their values.
Then you have physical touch. This one is self-explanatory, as well.
Cuddling on the couch, hand-holding, hugs, and sometimes sex.
When I say sex, that doesn’t mean it’s something that gets used to request sex or push it on their partner.
It means listening to your partner’s love dialect.
Watch for the touches they’re open to and the ones they find uncomfortable or irritating.
If you continue with the negative touches, you’re conveying the opposite of what you’re trying to express: love.
Make intimacy a priority. Now, like I said.
These are all theories. There will be hundreds of ways to show your partner you love them.
This should get you started with fixing what you broke between you and Hayvin.
Do your research, find out where you both fall.
” Lionel taps the top of his pen against his lips as he stares at me.
“There’s one thing we haven’t talked about yet. ”
“What’s that?” I ask warily.
“Have you told her you loved her? Not over the phone or text, either. Have you told her in person?”
“Yeah,” I admit with a grimace.
“I don’t like that look, Alek. Where did you tell her? Was she alone?”
I clear my throat and tap my fingers against my thigh. “We were at a restaurant. She wasn’t alone. Her friend, Titan, was there.”
“So, you told her in public while she was with another man?”
“When you put it like that…”
“You’ve really got your work cut out for you.”
“Gee, thanks, Doc. As if I didn’t know that already.”
“Do you believe she finds it hard to trust those three words didn’t come from a place of jealousy?”
His question stops me. Why hadn’t I thought of it before? I said those words to Hayvin for the first time while she was with a friend—an ex who probably never made her feel second best. It’d be easy for her to assume my words were fueled by jealousy, not honesty.
“It’s possible. I could have picked a better time to tell her. She needs to hear it from me when we’re alone.”
“In this redemption journey with her, you need to do things differently. Instead of expressing one love language, you should express all five, saving physical touch for last.” He glances at the watch on his wrist. “Our time is up for today. I want you to work on your love languages. Figure out how you express and receive love, and see if you can determine Hayvin’s.
Create a game plan to express those to her, in the order you want to do them.
I’d like to hear progress at your next appointment. ”
As I drive home, ideas churn in my mind. Gestures she’d never expect from me after everything that’s happened these past three years.
Gift giving.
Tucked away in the back of my closet is a box that might just be the perfect beginning.