Chapter 35
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
“The sincere wish to be good is half the battle.” ~Louisa May Alcott , Little Women
D r. Horin’s angular features filled the screen as Nat sat crossed-legged on the floor, back pressed against the couch, her laptop perched on the coffee table. The tightness in Nat’s shoulder blades and jitteriness in her limbs made her shift her position for the third time in ten minutes. Her legs were now bent beneath her. They’d spent the first part of the session discussing the day Evan died.
“So, you called Noah before you called your older brother?” Dr. Horin asked, or perhaps stated. Questions seemed to be statements, and statements seemed to be questions coming out of her red lips.
Nat nodded. After the police left that night, Dad held his wailing wife in his arms while Nat had stood motionless and disbelieving on the bottom step in the entry hall. Without thinking, she’d turned, walked upstairs to her room, and collapsed onto the floor. Holding her cell phone in a death grip, she’d called Noah. Her voice was soggy with not-yet-shed tears as she’d told him Evan had died.
“Were the two of you dating then?” Dr. Horin clicked her pen.
She shook her head. “No.”
Were they still together? After today’s fight and her cutting words as she walked out of the brewery, she wasn’t sure. Neither had texted nor called since this afternoon.
“Why was he your first call?”
Nat pulled at the string of her Boston College hoodie. “I needed him.” It sounded more like a question than an actual answer.
Dr. Horin’s face remained thoughtful as she sat quietly.
After a few silent moments, Nat inhaled a long breath. “I called because I needed Noah to be there for Clayton. I knew Clayton would need him. They’ve been best friends since they were zygotes.”
Dr. Horin clicked her pen again. “It’s good that you had such a supportive friend in Noah.”
Nat just twined the gray string around her finger, allowing the movement to steady her jittering nerves. Every piece of her wanted to end this conversation. To do what she had always done, just smile and say, “It’s fine.” But those days were over.
At least, she hoped.
“You mentioned during our last session that it was best that Noah was the one to tell Clayton that Evan died. Why was that? What made him best?”
“As I said, they’re best friends.” Nat shifted her legs, stretching them under the coffee table, grounding herself with the cool hardwood floor against her heels.
Dr. Horin nodded. “True, but why not you? You’re Clayton’s sister. The two of you shared Evan as a sibling.”
Guilt jackhammered inside her, provoking a sharp pain in her chest. This is why she was here. To air this out. It was so much easier to talk about talking than to actually do it. It was time to unravel the cluster of emotions writhing inside her.
Sucking in a deep breath, she spoke, “Because it’s my fault that Evan died.”
Nat rushed on to explain everything to Dr. Horin, who sat with a placid smile on her face. No judgment sparked in her eyes. No quick words were uttered telling Nat she was foolish to think or feel that she was responsible for Evan’s death. She just listened.
“I know that Evan’s death isn’t my fault. Like I know that here.” She pointed to her head. “But I don’t feel that here.” She pointed to her heart. “I know it’s stupid and probably a little narcissistic to feel this, but I do.”
“Well, most feelings are narcissistic because they’re our feelings, nobody else’s. If they weren’t a little narcissistic, then they wouldn’t be ours.”
Nat allowed a small smile to tick up.
Dr. Horin went on, “Therapy isn’t going to take away these feelings, but our sessions will help you better understand and deal with them.”
“That’s what Noah has told me,” she said, her voice soft and sad.
“It sounds like you have a very understanding partner in Noah.” Dr. Horin grinned, adjusting her red-framed glasses.
“I had.”
“ Had ?” A dark brow arched.
Tears gathered in the corner of Nat’s eyes. “I may have broken up with him. I’m not sure, but I think I did.”
Nat swiped at her tears with the end of her sweatshirt sleeve coating the soft cotton with salty wetness. It all spilled out of her. The secret nature of their relationship. Dad figuring it out. Noah pushing for them to declare themselves as a couple and her insistence that they wait.
“Why do you think you are hesitant to tell people you are a couple?” Dr. Horin asked.
Was she not listening to Nat? It was what Nat was paying her to do…listen. This was very black and white.
An exasperated breath puffed out of Nat. “Like I said, I’m concerned about the impact on Noah and Clayton’s friendship. Clayton has hated all my boyfriends. I don’t want to be the reason they aren’t friends anymore.”
Dr. Horin nodded, but her nod seemed to display assessment rather than agreement. “How do you think telling your brother about your relationship with Noah would impact your relationship with him?”
Nat’s gaze flicked to the desk pressed up against the front window. A framed picture of her with Clayton, Elle, and Noah from this past Christmas sat on the corner. The picture soothed and mocked. Both a glimpse of the possible future for the two couples and what would be at risk if this didn’t go well.
“That I could lose him.” A tiny tremor shook her words.
“Which him do you fear losing most?”
“What?” she gulped. Her heart jumped in her throat, choking her ability to speak.
“You don’t have to answer it now, but it may be good to really look at your fear about telling your brother and ask yourself what you are truly afraid of losing. Then, ask yourself what impact that fear is having on you? How is that fear’s hold on you helping make what you fear could happen…happen?”