Chapter Twenty-One
“Uh, numb, I suppose,” Iris said, staring at the bookcase in the corner. “I think I feel numb.”
“Where are you feeling that?” Phoebe asked.
Iris gestured at her head and face. She was experiencing the world like she’d been rolled in bubblewrap.
Everything was too far away. “Everything else just feels heavy, like everything is too much. I didn’t do anything all weekend.
Just sat at home and binged TV shows. I don’t even remember which ones. I just… couldn’t move.”
Phoebe nodded. They’d been through this stage together before, back when Iris first broke up with Natasha and started therapy.
She’d tried it before the breakup, but Natasha had never been a fan, making snide comments about how it was just a scam for money and getting bizarrely upset about the idea that Iris might talk about her in therapy.
When she’d finally told Phoebe about that, she’d quickly realized exactly why Natasha had been so against it. Now, it felt like a tiny little rebellion, something she did for herself and nobody else.
“Seeing Natasha again is bound to bring some of those feelings up,” Phoebe said quietly.
Everything here was quiet. Soft colors, calm voices, Phoebe’s steady, confident presence.
It was nice, exactly what Iris needed. The familiar office felt like a cocoon of safety, one where she could say whatever she needed and nobody would ever find out.
Part of her even imagined that, once Phoebe left the room, she didn’t remember what Iris had said.
Of course, she did remember, but there was something like a fresh slate every time Iris walked in that made it almost believable.
“I don’t even think it was about Natasha this weekend,” Iris said, her throat burning. “Not really.”
“What was it about?”
“Barrett. Well, not about her, but about me. With her.” Iris shook her head. Just thinking about Friday night felt like she was being boiled alive.
She’d spent the entire weekend hungover from being so open and vulnerable.
She’d been exhausted. And, when Barrett had messaged her on Sunday, she’d left the message unread for hours, finally sending an aggressively neutral and minimal reply right before going to bed just so things wouldn’t be weird at the office.
They were.
Barrett had brought breakfast for her again today.
She’d brought Iris things back from lunch.
She’d maintained the professional distance when Penn was in the room, but there was a new, unbearable intimacy pulsing between the two of them, and all Iris could think about was how she’d dumped too much on Barrett.
“Because you had an attack in front of her?” Phoebe prompted.
“Two, actually.” Iris winced. “And then just telling her everything. It’s too much.
She didn’t ask for all that, she doesn’t need it, and I am supposed to be an adult.
Natasha and I broke up years ago. I’ve worked on this.
I’m supposed to be able to handle it. But I see her one time and then I can’t be normal?
I can’t eat properly or exist properly? It’s not like I want her back.
She shouldn’t be affecting me like this.
And then, poor Barrett is stuck feeling like she has to feed me? It’s not fair.”
“Has Barrett suggested she thinks it’s unfair?”
“Well, no, but she has her own past that I’m sure makes her feel responsible for me, and I don’t want her to feel that way.”
“We can’t control the way other people feel, Iris. All you can do is bring your authentic self to the table and trust that Barrett will do the same. She has the power to walk away if she wants to.”
Just like Iris apparently had the power to walk away from Natasha? It wasn’t always that easy.
And, while they might not be dating, they did work together. It wasn’t actually all that easy for Barrett to just wash her hands of Iris.
Phoebe hummed consideringly. “And, I think it’s natural that seeing Natasha would throw you.
Just running into her would be enough. This is someone who massively impacted your life and your sense of self.
Seeing her in your spaces would, of course, feel uncomfortable.
The fact that she’s also now dating one of your friends amplifies that.
For your mind, she’s intruding in your safe space, taking your support system. ”
Iris nodded weakly. “I should have done a better job telling them about her. What if she does the same thing to Jemma?”
“Does Jemma know what it was like for you?”
“I thought she did, but… I don’t know, maybe I wasn’t clear enough. I never just spelled it all out. I couldn’t.”
“That’s not uncommon. Reliving what we’ve been through is difficult. Especially when we’ve been taught that we’re the problem for being upset with those things.”
“It wasn’t hard to tell Barrett. But I shouldn’t have.”
“Why not?”
“Because, now, she has to carry all of that. It’s not fair. She has her own stuff to deal with and now she’s stuck worrying about whether I’m falling apart. And it was my own fault. I let that all happen and I shouldn’t be burdening other people with it. It’s my rock to carry.”
Phoebe leaned forwards, still on the other side of the coffee table but closer to Iris. “You are not responsible for what Natasha did to you. And you’re not a burden to the people who care about you.”
“I am. I’m costing Barrett money and time and it interrupted her friends’ lives too. They had to take Oscar for the evening so she could go grocery shopping with me. I feel like I’m messing with everyone’s lives.”
“Did Barrett have to take you for groceries?”
“No. Of course not.”
“Did you ask her to?”
“No. It was her idea.”
“So, do we think it might simply have been something she wanted to do?”
Iris felt like she’d been spinning, like the room was moving. “I… guess. But, why?”
“Why does she want to spend time with you?”
“Yes.”
“Perhaps she likes spending time with you.”
“She shouldn’t. I haven’t brought anything but trouble into her life.”
Phoebe pulled an expression that was somewhere between sympathy and a smile. “Has Barrett said that?”
“No.”
“Even if your mind is convinced, Barrett hasn’t done anything to suggest that’s how she’s seeing things.
She’s showing up, asking to hang out, sharing things with you, and, when something comes up that hurts you, she’s sitting in it with you.
That sounds like something friends do. It doesn’t sound like she dislikes being around you. ”
Something deep inside of Iris ached for that to be true. It ached so badly she felt like she was physically bruising. As if, should someone cut her open, all they’d find would be bruises filled with wanting and needing things she shouldn’t.
She needed to simply get better and stop burdening people. Natasha always hated how emotional she was.
“It’s all my fault.” She sounded hollow, so maybe she wasn’t filled with bruises. Maybe she was filled with nothingness. Maybe she always would be.
“It is not your fault, Iris.” Phoebe slid the box of tissues closer to Iris. “Natasha took advantage of your forgiving nature, of everything you gave her, and she used it to hurt you. But what happened was not your fault. It does not dictate who you are or whether other people can care about you.”
“But it’s not her fault, either.”
They’d been over that a lot, whether how Natasha behaved was her fault or not.
“Even if it wasn’t her fault, it was her responsibility,” Phoebe said, her tone measured. They’d gone over that a lot, too.
Iris sighed. “How do you know if people really do care about you?”
“The only way you can really get an answer is to ask and then watch to see if their actions match that.” Phoebe’s expression twitched in a way Iris didn’t know how to interpret. “When Natasha told you she loved you, did it feel like she meant it?”
“Yes.” Iris felt herself shaking as she considered and remembered. “She was always so, so emphatic about it. Crying and begging and swearing that she loved me after she hurt me.”
“So, she said it convincingly, but did her behavior feel like she meant it?”
“No,” Iris gasped. “No. It felt like she hated me. When she hit me… I don’t know how you do that to someone you love.”
“Right—”
“But in front of other people, she would act adoringly, like I was the best thing in the world.” She’d already been over this too many times, but clearly her mind wasn’t over it.
“Natasha is so good at making the world think she loves you. And, in private, she proves she doesn’t.
But I still couldn’t walk away. And what if she does the same thing to Jemma? It’ll be all my fault.”
“It will not be your fault. You did the best you could to tell your friends what happened. Recounting it was traumatizing for you. It’s okay that you couldn’t share every detail.”
“But, even now, I’m just ignoring all Jemma’s messages.”
“Is she in trouble?”
“No.” Iris pressed her eyes together tightly, the hundreds of messages Jemma had sent her cascading through her mind. “She’s telling me how happy she is, how much I’m ruining it for her with my jealousy, and that a better friend would just be happy for her.”
“Iris, she sprung the whole thing on you without warning, knowing enough about the relationship to know it wasn’t healthy for you. That was not okay, and it is okay that you need space from the two of them.”
“I guess.” She still felt like she needed to help. To do something productive rather than shutting down. Most days, she felt like a puppet, trapped in her own mind, screaming with the need to get out, to do something.
“If you want to try having a more honest conversation with Jemma, we can work up to that together. But, for now, my priority is your well-being.”
“Isn’t that selfish of me?”
“No. You’ve heard the saying that you can’t pour from an empty cup.”
“I have, but I’m fine.”
“Do you feel fine?”
Every part of her wanted to say that she was, but she did try not to directly lie to Phoebe in these sessions. There were things she couldn’t fathom or admit to herself, but direct lies when the proof was in front of them were off the table.
She shook her head. “No. I feel terrible. I feel like everything is falling apart and I don’t know how to stop it.”
Phoebe nodded. “Okay, let’s start there. What’s something that went well this week despite how bad things feel?”
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing!
But they’d done this activity before. Hanging onto the good things was important. Tiny wins mattered.
She cast around for anything good. And the brightest thing was Barrett. Undeniably Barrett.
“The boat ride on Friday. It was nice to get away.” She felt her face burning as she followed the thought to completion. “It felt nice talking to Barrett and learning about her. And I’ve eaten three meals the last two days because of her. Actual varied things, not just yogurt.”
“Those are great things.”
“But I shouldn’t need other people to help me function. It’s not her responsibility.”
“We all need help sometimes. Just like we all show up for the people we care about when they need help.”
Was that true? Her own family had no interest in helping her when she felt like she was sinking.
Natasha hadn’t wanted to help her, only control her, use her as a fun little status symbol for the rest of the world.
And her own friend group was picking Jemma and Natasha over her.
Jemma hadn’t been the only one messaging…
But Anya and Barrett were on her side, maybe. And she’d show up for them too, if they needed her. She knew she would, no matter what she was going through.
She just needed to know how to get out of this fog, this lethargy that seemed to be consuming her.
“But how do I know if she’s frustrated with me?” Iris didn’t need to specify that she meant Barrett, Phoebe got it.
“The easiest, and potentially most difficult, way is to simply ask her. It sounds like the two of you have been communicating very openly. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind.”
“I don’t know… She’d probably feel compelled to be nice because of how pathetic I’ve been.”
“I don’t think you’ve been pathetic, and I’m sure Barrett doesn’t either.”
But they didn’t know that.
Phoebe smiled slightly, as if she knew exactly what Iris was thinking. “Alternatively, you can think of it the same way we just did with Natasha. She said one thing and showed you another. What have Barrett’s actions been showing you?”
It was hard to argue that one, even in her stubborn mind. “That she cares.”
Phoebe nodded. “So maybe we can hold onto that as we think of some ways to make the next week a little more tolerable?”
Iris paused before nodding.
She had to have a plan, that was what they did when she was struggling.
She liked a plan, it made everything a little easier, more manageable.
But Barrett couldn’t be the plan. She didn’t think Phoebe would make her the plan, either.
Yet… everything good lately had Barrett written all over it, and, while that was unexpected and surprising, Iris could hold onto it.
In truth, it was hard not to hold onto Barrett lately.