29. McKenzie
TWENTY-NINE
McKenzie
From the moment I sat on Dr. Florene Zott’s sofa in her office that rainy Monday morning, I felt like a ball of anxiety that might simply bounce from the room. But even if I did, I wouldn’t have made it far. My mom had come with me for moral support and was waiting in the lobby.
I’d squirmed through the entire intake process, my stomach knotting like a dainty necklace. Even the slightest movement would’ve had it tangled beyond recognition.
Dr. Zott tapped a few more notes into her laptop before looking at me through her thick cat-eye glasses.
“Let’s talk a little about this panic attack you experienced Saturday night,” she said, tucking a strand of her black bob behind her ear.
I tucked my hands under my legs in a vague attempt to stop my fidgeting. “What do you want to know?”
“What happened leading up to it?” she asked. “Were you under more stress than usual?”
I nodded, then told her about the pressure I’d been under at the restaurant all week and how our staffing issues had bled over into Kia’s party.
“Mmm,” she murmured. “I imagine your sleep schedule was disrupted too because you were under so much pressure.”
“Yeah. It was.” I swallowed hard. “Things hadn’t been so great with my boyfriend, either.”
She tugged the sleeves of her cardigan down. “Tell me about that. Were the two of you fighting?”
“No,” I replied. “It was nothing like that.” I filled her in on how my relationship with Luca began and how things had started to pivot over the last two weeks. “Our lives had been on this parallel path since the fall, then all of a sudden, it was like we were going in two different directions.”
I picked at my cuticle while I continued to explain the events that occurred Saturday night, including Luca’s texts and frantic phone call. “He’d gotten some bad press—not just a little, either. A lot . It was like the gates of internet hell opened up and swallowed him whole.”
“I imagine it was hard for you to give him the assurance he was probably seeking from you at that moment,” she said. “Because you already had a lot on your plate.”
“Not only did I not give it to him, but I essentially told him to just deal with it himself.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “It was partly because I was stressed out, but there was some resentment there too. I’d been feeling this sense of impending… loss because he would be going out on the road soon, and he wasn’t affected at all. Or at least he didn’t seem to be.”
“Did you ever ask him?” Dr. Zott questioned.
I shook my head. “No, and I know that’s my own fault. But there was a part of me that was afraid to say anything.”
“Why?”
My gaze fell to my hands. Why had I been so scared? I didn’t have a lot of experience with relationships, but I couldn’t entirely blame my behavior on my lack of expertise in matters of the heart. There was something much deeper at play.
“Luca has a history of depression…of self-harming thoughts. Like my brother did.” The words squeezed out of me like the last dredges of toothpaste from a nearly empty tube. “Brennan…he took his own life fifteen years ago this past October.”
“I see,” she said, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her narrow nose. “So you were worried that saying something might upset Luca and potentially send him down a rocky path?”
“I guess so,” I said with a shrug. “It seemed like he was finally happy, you know? I didn’t want to ruin that for him by being selfish. But when he called me like he did…something in me kind of snapped. Like, had he not stopped to consider what life would be like once he started touring? I can’t just drop everything and be there all the time.”
“Is it possible he thought you’d be going with him? That perhaps he took for granted that you’d always be there?”
“Maybe.” I hadn’t even considered that. It wasn’t something we’d discussed, but then again, our communication had broken down. And even if he had thought that, I didn’t want to go. My life was in Nashville.
She nodded and tilted her head. “I want to go back to your panic attack. Did it happen after your conversation with Luca?”
“No. Not right after,” I answered. I relived the entire night, telling her every detail: my unanswered texts and calls, Kia driving me to the hobbit house, and the devastation I felt when we went inside and saw all of his stuff was missing. “He was just… gone . That’s when I had the panic attack.”
Just thinking about it made my palms begin to sweat and my stomach churn. I told her about Kia calling Dallas and Katie and how they found him in his apartment in Kentucky.
“Discovering Luca’s place was empty must have been painful for you, given what happened with your brother.” Dr. Zott’s tone was gentle and compassionate.
“It was like finding out Brennan was gone all over again,” I admitted, my eyes filling with tears. “And it was all my fault.”
“You didn’t make Luca leave,” she said. “That was his choice.”
“But I could have stopped him.” I didn’t know whether I was talking about Luca or Brennan anymore, but it didn’t really matter. It was true for them both.
“I know it’s easier to think that than to accept there’s nothing you could have done, but I need you to understand that you’re not responsible for Luca’s actions,” she said. “And the same is true for your brother.”
“But if I’d just been there,” I managed with a sniffle. “Maybe I could have changed things.”
Dr. Zott clicked her laptop shut and set it aside, leaning forward.
“What do you think might have changed?” she asked.
“I don’t know—maybe they wouldn’t have left me,” I choked out, a sob ripping through me. “Maybe I could have been enough to make them want to stay.”
Her face softened. “Their choices had nothing to do with you and everything to do with them. There’s no amount of enoughness that would have changed that.”
“How can you know that?” I cried, hours…days… years worth of pent-up anguish pouring out of me. “If I’d done more, if I’d loved them better, maybe I could have eased their pain.”
“This is a hard truth, but it’s one you need to hear,” she said, her voice kind but firm. “Love is something—a very important something. But it’s not everything, and contrary to what every platitude would have you believe, we need more than that—a lot more—to survive.”
I wiped my face with the sleeve of my sweater.
“McKenzie, the shame you’re feeling is just control with nowhere to go,” she continued. “As humans, we want to believe we have the ability to turn the tides. It’s easier to blame ourselves than it is to believe we are but a small ripple in the ocean, and it’s going to keep moving with or without us.”
“But how am I supposed to accept that?” I asked. “That there’s nothing I can do.”
“Whether you accept it or not doesn’t change that it’s true,” she answered. “So, you’re left with two choices. You can keep swimming against the current, knowing you’ll exhaust yourself and the waves will pull you under, or you can let go.”
I reached for a tissue from the glass coffee table and blew my nose. “Those are terrible choices.”
“The first one is,” she agreed. “But I think there’s a certain amount of comfort in letting go of what we can’t change.”
“Comfort?” I echoed. “How is that comforting in any way?”
“Because when we finally acknowledge the things we can’t control, we can release some of the burdens we carry. We can lighten our load and set our focus on the one thing we do have control over: ourselves.”
Her words crashed over me as I blew out a breath and tried to imagine what it would feel like to let go of the blame and expectations I’d set on myself. One word came to mind. Free.
She went on. “That kind of change doesn’t occur all at once, but with time, I think we can get you there.”
“Do you think I’ll continue having panic attacks?” My voice came out in a rasp that was barely above a whisper.
She twisted her lips to the corner of her mouth. “It’s possible, but I think we can lessen the chances if we get a handle on what’s triggering them.”
“We have to,” I said. “I don’t want to feel like this anymore.”
She nodded. “All right. If you’re up for it, I’d like to start with biweekly sessions where we focus on mindfulness and shifting your perspective around the events of your past. In doing that, we’ll also effectively help you change your narrative for the future. All I ask is that you stick with me. If something doesn’t work, that’s okay. There are a lot of things we can try, but we just need to take it one step at a time.”
I sighed. It wasn’t a guarantee, but it was better than the alternative. I didn’t want to live my life being slowly consumed by shame. I’d been holding onto the guilt I felt over my brother’s death, because in a strange way, it was all I had left of him. However, there was no amount of remorse, no sum of love that would ever bring him back, no matter how much I wanted it to.
The same was true of Luca. I didn’t know what lie ahead for us or if there even was an us anymore. But I did know that I deserved to find healing. To be the best version of myself for him, my mom, my friends, and anyone else who might come along. Above all else, I deserved it for me.
I turned my gaze to Dr. Zott. “Let’s do it.”
“How do you feel after your first therapy session?” my mom asked once the server took our breakfast orders at Biscuit Love after my appointment. Katie said she was feeling a lot better and insisted I take the day off. She’d driven back to Nashville early that morning so she could be at the restaurant, leaving Dallas with Luca.
“A little drained,” I answered. “I feel like I could sleep for a week.”
She nodded. “That’s understandable. These past couple of days have been hard.”
“I wish I’d realized sooner how much I still needed help,” I admitted, taking a sip of my water. “But I can’t go back and change it, and I’m trying this new thing where I don’t let myself worry about things that are out of my control.”
She raised her brows, a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face.
I laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. I said it’s a new thing.”
“No, I think that’s great,” she assured me. “It sounds like this therapist might be a good fit. I’m proud of you for taking that first step. I know it wasn’t easy.”
“Thanks,” I said, “but I can’t take all the credit. I don’t know if I would’ve gone had it not been for you and Kia giving me the push I needed.”
“It doesn’t matter how you got there. What matters is that you did it.” She glanced down, scanning her menu. “Have you gotten any updates on Luca?”
I took in a breath. “Actually, he texted me as I was walking into my appointment.” It was the first time I’d heard from him since Saturday night.
“What did he say?”
I recited the message I already knew by heart. I’m sorry. For everything. Can I see you?
“Katie told me earlier that Luca saw his therapist yesterday,” I said, clearing my throat. “She said he and Dallas were heading back to Nashville later this afternoon.”
“Did you text him back?”
“Not yet.”
“You think he’s going back to the hobbit house?” she asked.
I shook my head. “I doubt it. He’ll probably go back to Dallas and Katie’s. I mean, he left his key, so I’m taking it that chapter is over.”
She lifted her gaze to me. “I think it would be good for you to see him. Clear the air.”
“I want to,” I said, running a hand along my arm, my leg bouncing beneath the table with such force that I caused it to vibrate.
Her forehead creased. “I feel like there’s a but coming.”
“I love Luca,” I said with a sigh. “But I guess I don’t know where we stand.”
“Do you still want to be with him?”
“I do,” I answered quickly. “It’s just that I’m also feeling a little…gun-shy. Even if I understand why he left, it doesn’t change the fact that he did so without a single word. How can I be sure he won’t run again?”
“I don’t think you can be,” she said. “I know you want a guarantee it won’t happen again, but there’s no way to know for certain. You just need to have faith and hope for the best.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed this about me, Mom, but I’m not exactly a risk-taking faith-haver.”
She chuckled. “Some things are worth the risk, though. Some people are too.”
“So, you’re saying you think we should stay together.” It was a statement, not a question.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t not say that.”
“When you two were together, you seemed… happy . Not content, not just going through the motions, but happy for the first time since before Brennan died.” She gave me a wistful smile. “And I want that for you, you know? That’s the kind of love and joy you deserve.”
“I’m just afraid of losing him, and I guess this whole situation reminded me how real of a possibility that is.”
“That’s true of any relationship,” she said.
We understood that more than most. It was the reason I’d worked so hard to keep people at a safe distance since Brennan’s death. People couldn’t leave if I never opened the door for them to begin with.
“If you were to walk away now, you’d still be losing him, just in a different way. Whether you stay or go, it won’t be easy. But this is where you’ve got to pick your hard. Only you can decide if that means pushing him away or letting him in.” She reached for my hand across the table. “Kenz, all we can do is love people as much as we can while we can. There are no guarantees.”
I squeezed her fingers. “I know.”
And despite the risks, I knew exactly what my heart wanted. I longed to run into Luca’s arms and never look back. But there was still a nagging question lingering in the back of my mind. Even if he was what I wanted…even if we loved each other deeply…would the fear that one day I’d lose him ever really go away?
After my mom went home that afternoon, I curled up on the couch with Earl Grey and Binx, my phone staring holes in my head from beside me on the cushion. I needed to call Luca, but every time I reached for the device, my hand hovered over it before retreating back to my lap.
I groaned to myself. “Get it together, McKenzie.”
Just the thought of talking to him made my palms start to sweat. My heart raced as I imagined the last time I’d heard his voice and what transpired afterward—the devastation I felt when I went inside the hobbit house only to find he was already gone.
“You can do this,” I said to myself.
Binx regarded me through squinted eyes as though he was saying ‘ you sure about that?’.
I wasn’t. Not even a little bit.
I scooped up the device, illuminating the screen. I swallowed hard as I swiped my finger over it and found his contact. Before I could stop myself, I pressed the call button.
He answered on the second ring. “McKenzie?”
My mouth opened but no sound came out.
“Are you there?”
“Yeah,” I managed. “I’m here. Sorry.”
“God, I miss you.”
My chest ached. “I miss you too.”
“How are you feeling?” His voice was thick with emotion, heavy with the weight of his question.
“I…I don’t really know,” I admitted. “I had my first therapy appointment this morning. It was…good. I think it’ll help.”
His shaky breath traveled through the cell towers. “I’m sorry, McKenzie. I’m so fucking sorry.”
“It’s okay.” Was it, though?
“No,” he said, answering for me. “It isn’t. After everything you’ve been through…I should have handled things differently. I wasn’t thinking.”
“I know,” I whispered. “And I’m sorry too.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.”
“I didn’t exactly handle things so well, either,” I said. “I was stressed out and—”
He cut me off. “And I should’ve known that. But I was so wrapped up in my own shit that I stopped paying attention.”
“What I don’t understand is why you didn’t call someone else. Why you didn’t wait for me. Something. ” Tears stung the corners of my eyes. “Anything besides leaving.”
“Because that’s all I know how to do.”
My heart sank. Would there ever come a time when that wasn’t his first instinct?
“But I want that to change,” he continued, as though he were reading my mind. “I went back to therapy yesterday. I never should’ve stopped. I let myself get lured into this false sense of security, thinking I was all well and good, but I wasn’t. I’ve got to keep doing the work even when I’m not falling apart because that’s what’s going to hold me together when the chips are down.”
I pressed my tongue onto the roof of my mouth, trying to keep from crying.
“Yeah. I guess I kind of realized the same thing,” I said. “But God, it sucks. It sucks so much.”
“Yeah, it does,” he rasped. A silent beat passed between us before he spoke again. “Dallas and I are coming back to Nashville this afternoon. I was wondering if…Can I see you?”
I wanted to say yes. I didn’t want to hurt him, but I couldn’t make the words come out.
My hands trembled, and I dug my fingers into the cushion. “I want to see you, Luca…but I…”
“Do you…not want to be with me anymore?” he asked, the words painted with sorrow.
“No, it’s not that,” I answered. “I just…I think I need a little more time. To catch my breath.”
I longed to hold him, to be held by him, but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not while I was still so jumbled up inside.
“All right,” he said, and I detected the slightest break in his voice. “Take as much time as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
I’m not going anywhere.
The words sent a warning flare shooting up from my heart. That was exactly what I was worried about.
I released a slow exhale. “Okay.”
Another pause stretched between us with only the soft sounds of our breathing on the line. It took every ounce of self-control I had not to tell him I changed my mind—that I had to see him right away because having him in front of me was the only surefire way to keep him with me, to keep him safe. But I kept my mouth clamped shut. If I ever hoped to truly let go of things I couldn’t control, I had to start somewhere.
“I love you, McKenzie,” he said.
I pressed the phone tighter against my ear as though that would bring him closer.
“I love you too.” The tears I’d been fighting spilled onto my cheeks. I loved him more than anything in the world, but I had to figure out how to love me too. And that meant taking some time apart. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Soon,” he echoed before the line went dead.
I squeezed my eyes shut and didn’t move a single muscle, desperate to hang on to him a little longer.