Understood

chapter 45 ⚚

"I think I'm just a bad person. I lie, I insult people, I lash out, I gaslight, I manipulate, I overreact, I get jealous, I'm possessive... what else? No, I think that might actually be it—surprisingly."

Lilith was sprawled across the couch, her gaze drifting between the ceiling and the woman sitting across from her. Lockhart was sitting in the armchair, one leg casually thrown over the other, an iPad balanced on her lap, pencil poised, eyes sharp yet patient.

This room didn't belong to the clinic; it was something completely different.

Lilith had learned Lockhart was planning to open a new space of her own, and the apartment she had bought with seven almost identical rooms was still unfinished, waiting to be transformed into a retreat for her future patients.

But this room, with its soft lighting and cozy corners, already felt like a therapy space.

"And—" Lockhart began, her tone gentle but focused, the pencil hovering over the iPad, ready to jot down any note.

"And how do I feel about it?" Lilith murmured, cutting her off.

She was lying on her back, arms splayed in a gesture of both surrender and exasperation.

"Obviously horrible. But sometimes I think it's not my fault—it's other people's.

Which... kind of proves I'm a bad person.

" She threw her hands into the air, a delicate punctuation to her confession.

"But then I also feel like there's a good part of me—one where my intentions are pure, and I'm full of love and warmth to give... but something, or someone, always ends up crushing it." A soft pout tugged at her lips as she spoke, a quiet melancholy settling into the space between them.

Lockhart tilted her head slightly, her eyes unwavering and sincere. "Do you feel like people might have been failing you?"

"I think we mostly fail each other which is—" Lilith groaned softly, stopping.

"Can someone just kill me already?" she rolled her eyes, staring at the ceiling.

The brown haired woman ignored the second part, her back softly straightening. "Let's focus on the ways you think you fail people, then," she said.

"Pretty much in every way. I mean—" Lilith's eyes widened as she shifted onto her side, looking at the woman intently.

"Two days ago I had this... um... situation. Oh my god. I called someone close to me a very, very derogatory term. I can't even say the word. It disgusts me. I feel disgusted with myself for even thinking about it."

She whined softly, trying not to slap herself.

She had to bring up Valentina.

Lockhart—a therapist—would be the only one who could somehow at least understand the way she acted, and why she did it.

"Did you two argue? Was there something that made you angry?" the woman asked, adding, "Were you angry?"

"I think so... but we didn't really argue. I just attacked them out of nowhere because..."

Lilith stopped herself.

Miss Lockhart didn't say anything—she just let the girl take a second. A slight silence fell over the room.

"Because I guess I felt jealous? And really insecure," Lilith admitted softly.

"Do you want to tell me what it was about exactly?" Lockhart asked, noting something down quickly.

Lilith tilted her head, even though the woman's brown eyes weren't on her. "No?" she said, scrunching her nose slightly.

"That's okay. Tell me more about what you felt—but towards them. What were you thinking about this person when you got jealous?" Lockhart asked, her gaze lifting to meet Lilith's.

"I thought I hated them. That they were disgusting, that they deserved my reaction, that it was their fault I felt like that. Ugh." Lilith stopped again, whining softly to herself.

"Which doesn't even make sense because I obviously know I was wrong and it was my fault," she finished, closing her eyes out of embarrassment and guilt.

It wasn't hard for her to admit she was wrong—it was a fact. It was harder in moments like that, when her emotions took over.

"Your brain went into autopilot. So when a thought that made you jealous popped up, your brain flipped a switch and suddenly convinced you that they'd hurt you—and that you hated them," Lockhart said, not really explaining it to Lilith.

They had talked like this a year ago already, but maybe then those situations didn't bother her as much as they do now.

The woman put her iPad down on her lap and asked, "What do you think would happen if you stopped for a minute? If you took a step back?"

"I'm scared I'd make things worse," Lilith's head tilted again.

She had always been a challenging patient.

At some point in the past, both Lilith and Miss Lockhart had been aware that therapy wouldn't go anywhere while Lilith was so self aware yet either not trying—or maybe not wanting to try—or maybe she was just fucked up that way.

"What happened before you reacted? Were you the one talking? Was it in response to something?" the woman asked, adjusting her glasses lightly.

"I was talking. Asking questions. I already felt a bit defensive and mad—it was probably just a matter of time, or the answers they were going to give me, before I blew up.

I remembered something related to the topic and meant to ask about it calmly.

But the answer came and I didn't like it. .. so I called them a whore..."

The word slipped out of Lilith's mouth and she instantly whined, looking at the woman.

"I know it's horrible," she added.

Lockhart exhaled softly. "Let's not focus on the word right now." She paused for a moment. "So the topic had already come up before? How did you react then?"

"Day before. I handled it somehow. I rationalized it because it truly isn't something you should be so aggressive about," Lilith answered.

Relationships carried their share of jealousy, but the sting of aggression was never supposed to be part of the package.

"But underneath, the emotion was still simmering. You didn't realize it. Then the next day, something triggered it and you blew up," Lockhart said, using the word Lilith had used before, which made the girl smile slightly. "Is that right?"

"Yeah," Lilith nodded.

"You see," Lockhart started, "you need to start thinking a step ahead.

Not just in the moment you're already getting defensive and angry—but before it happens.

It won't always work, because not every situation is the same, and sometimes you will need to react as we're speaking.

But let's focus on this exact situation.

Let's say I said something that made you feel insecure.

You're self aware enough to know that the next time we meet, if I say something similar, it'll trigger you again—and you'll react impulsively. "

It was always such a strange break whenever the woman started speaking.

Lilith found herself, in some way, ignoring Lockhart during her previous sessions. And every time it was Lockhart's turn to speak at length, Lilith remembered—there was an actual person in the room with her. Suddenly, she became aware of how her voice sounded, the way she spoke in general.

It was like learning the woman—how she gestured, what drew out a visible reaction, and what passed unnoticed; what she often caught, and what slipped by.

"So?" Lilith asked, very focused.

"The moment I say something like that, you try to think of a rational way to bring it up. Of course, if someone's being cruel, you'd have every right to be angry. But if it's someone you trust, someone who probably won't react negatively—like me—you can handle it calmly."

Lockhart paused for a second before continuing. "Take a second. Plan how to say what you want to say. Choose your words. Don't let them spill out." She smiled softly. "Think you could try that next time?" she asked, her tone as gentle as her smile.

And Lilith, this time, told herself to be honest—that's why she took a moment to think about it.

Could she try?

Would she try?

"Yeah, I think so," Lilith said, nodding.

The atmosphere felt suddenly warmer.

"You know what I've noticed?" Lockhart asked, looking up for a moment to meet Lilith's eyes as she noted something down. "When you take a second to organize your thoughts, you sound incredibly grounded and mature. Sharp, even." She finished with a warmth in her eyes.

"Doesn't everyone?" Lilith asked, narrowing her eyes. "I mean, when they have a second to sort out everything."

"Not really. You wouldn't sound sharp if you weren't sharp in the first place. Five seconds to calm down wouldn't suddenly make you smart, right?" the brown haired woman asked.

"Oh, so you're saying if someone's dumb, they'll stay dumb anyway, even after a second to think longer?" Lilith smiled playfully. "How mean of you, Miss." She let herself giggle slightly.

Lilith felt more thankful than ever that she hadn't had to start with a new therapist. It would have been difficult—she would have been measuring them against the woman sitting before her now.

Lockhart wasn't perfect, but of all the therapists she had met, even the most professional and precise never felt as human as Lockhart did.

"Take it however you want," the woman shrugged her shoulders softly—the familiar casualness they'd both always shared now so clear and back.

Silence fell as Lockhart wrote something down.

It wasn't uncomfortable, but it made Lilith's thoughts drift back to Valentina.

Even lying on the couch reminded her of Valentina's office, a place she hadn't visited in what felt like too long.

Something like a giggle shouldn't escape her—not when she hadn't cleared things up.

She probably should've mentioned it to the woman sitting across from her, but decided instead to focus on something much more important.

"So... how do I fix it?" she asked seriously.

Lockhart looked up for a second before asking, "Was it the first time they'd seen you like that?"

"Yes! And that's the thing! They weren't supposed to, you know?" Lilith said dramatically, because she pathetically believed she wouldn't act like that in front of Valentina.

Maybe it was that she had never been in a romantic relationship, and part of her wanted to protect the woman she adored from that side of herself.

Or maybe she simply wanted to be good for her—a good girl for the brunette woman, someone to be proud of, someone who wouldn't cause stress.

But no matter the relationship, Lilith always seemed to make people want to tear their hair out.

Lockhart looked thoughtfully at her before speaking. "Since we're almost out of time, we'll talk about what you said next time we meet. For now, let's think about how you can fix it."

The blonde haired girl rolled her eyes at the fact that the woman had already caught something to return to at their next meeting.

"How do you think they feel right now?" Lockhart added.

"They're very... um... specific. I don't think conversation will be enough," Lilith said, sitting up and letting her back rest against the couch.

"Have you two spoken after what happened?" the brown haired woman asked.

"No. They called me a couple of times, but... I didn't answer," Lilith winced at herself. "I just feel so tragic and disgusted with myself I don't even know what to say," she finished.

Because truly, Lilith felt tragic. As soon as the emotions wore off, she couldn't believe what had happened was real. She had sobbed herself to sleep, still wearing Valentina's clothes, and hadn't taken them off until she finally got out of bed—despite badly not wanting to.

Lockhart nodded softly. "That's why you should plan it out calmly.

If they don't know what happened or why you reacted that way, you might have to step out of your comfort zone and fix it.

The sooner you do, the less they'll be hurt by the confusion—and that means you'll hurt less too.

So you wouldn't just be doing it for them; you'd be doing it for yourself. "

"Don't say that," Lilith whined as the woman mentioned hurting them.

Them.

Valentina.

Hurting Valentina.

But then she nodded, saying, "I'll think about it."

The woman put her iPad aside softly, signaling that the time was over. Both of them—or more like Lilith—decided that seventy minutes would be best.

Lilith stood up, checking her phone. "You said every five days, right?" she asked, as the woman also stood, now visibly taller than Lilith.

"For now," she nodded. "We'll space it out more once things settle a bit," she said.

Lilith nodded and moved towards the door. "Alright." She pulled her jacket tight as she reached the apartment's threshold. "Thank you, Miss Lockhart," she said, smiling softly, her eyes carrying a simple gratitude, though a little dull.

She recognized this feeling, and though she sometimes hated familiarity, not this time. During therapy, the hour had always been hers alone. Even when she had laid bare the worst parts of herself, she could focus solely on herself in that moment—shutting out the world, if only for a while.

"Just Vivienne is fine," the woman said, looking at her. Lilith was a bit surprised—she obviously knew Miss Lockhart's name, but had never actually said it aloud—and this, after all was supposed to be different from her usual therapy sessions.

"Okay," she nodded. "Thank you... Miss Vivienne." She tilted her head, trying to sound respectful and polite, charmingly, before opening the door and disappearing.

Maybe Lilith would listen this time.

?

Or perhaps not.

"God, how long has it been?" Olivia said, as she and Lilith shared a cigarette outside hers and Daniel's apartment.

"You mean smoking or me?" Lilith murmured, watching the smoke curl into the chilly evening air. Olivia had decided to quit cigarettes, and judging by what they were doing now, the quitting wasn't going well.

"Both," Olivia said, snatching the cigarette from Lilith's fingers with a small, guilty grin.

"Why are you smoking outside?" the shorter girl asked, frowning in confusion.

"Well..." Olivia hesitated, fingers twisting around the cigarette, "I thought that if I let myself smoke only outside, I'd be too lazy to get up and go out, and maybe I wouldn't smoke at all.

But clearly... it's not working." She sounded almost offended at her own reasoning, then glanced down at Lilith, thoughtful, as if searching for silent judgment.

"Everything's alright?" she asked softly, voice gentler now.

"I won't open the windows anymore," she added, looking at the blonde haired girl, who let out a small, quiet giggle.

"Yeah, I just need a drink," Lilith said, her voice soft.

"A drink," Olivia hummed, arching an eyebrow.

"Yes. Only a drink," Lilith clarified, a little too quickly.

"We'll see," Olivia said, passing the cigarette back so Lilith could finish it.

And just as the last smoke escaped from Lilith's lips, they decided to head into the apartment.

Stepping inside, Lilith's confusion grew. The space was immaculate. Not that it had ever been a disaster, but now everything gleamed, the order almost startling.

"Okay, what the fuck is happening?" Lilith asked, slipping off her shoes.

"What?" Olivia murmured, sinking onto the couch with a dramatic flop.

"I'm a new person," she said thoughtfully, scanning the room as if the cleanliness reflected some inner transformation. "I'm becoming a high functioning addict," she added with a crooked smile.

Lilith tilted her head, unsure how to respond. But despite herself, a small warmth spread through her chest—she felt a little happy for Olivia, proud even, in a quiet, private way.

"So that's why you're quitting," Lilith said, heading to the kitchen and mixing vodka with a sweet, sugary drink.

"Make me one," Olivia called from the living room, her voice light, teasing.

When Lilith returned with the glasses, Olivia winked at her. "I decided I should choose between... smoking and... other sweet things."

"And you chose... other sweet things?" Lilith asked, furrowing her brows, deliberately using the word "drugs" just like Olivia had, reframing them as 'sweet things.'

"I've got priorities," Olivia hummed, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "Besides, I think you falling out of my window opened my eyes." She shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm glad," Lilith murmured, rolling her eyes, though a faint smile threatened at the corners.

Lilith kept staring at Olivia, trying to figure out if something was wrong, but surprisingly, she didn't see anything that seemed off.

Olivia wasn't wearing makeup. She looked casual, at ease, and Lilith noticed something she hadn't before—the place Olivia had once considered home had been nothing more than a club.

Now, this apartment—shared with Daniel—could actually feel like home to her.

"Where's Daniel?" Lilith asked, glancing towards the door to his room.

"Out. Getting new tattoos," Olivia replied, casual as ever.

"By the way, our tattoo artist asked for your number," she added, her smile smug, teasing.

"Don't tell me you gave it to him," Lilith said, eyes widening in horror.

"Nope. Keeping it to myself," Olivia winked, perfectly self satisfied.

Lilith's thoughts drifted to Valentina again.

That woman couldn't give her a single quiet moment—she just kept appearing in her mind, relentless, taunting.

"I've been on a date," Lilith blurted out before she could stop herself, the words tasting strange on her tongue.

"Really?" Olivia turned to her, surprised.

"Yeah," Lilith answered shyly.

"Who is she?" Olivia pressed.

Lilith stayed quiet.

Valentina was so private to her—mind, heart, everything. She wasn't even able to share her with Miss Lockhart. It felt like a way of protecting the woman from any opinion, any perception from others, even those who didn't truly know her. Lilith knew best who Valentina was.

She didn't want anyone else even thinking about her.

"It's okay. Keep your secrets," Olivia said, rolling her eyes with a hint of fondness.

There was a quiet comfort in their connection. They met sometimes, talked about what was wrong—or didn't—and that felt enough.

"I'm also trying to be... a bit better," Lilith admitted.

"For her?" Olivia asked, curious.

Lilith wasn't sure.

Maybe it was for Valentina.

Maybe it was for both of them.