Chapter 5
Elliot
Trying to Move On
Five Months After the Wedding
“I realized something after our last session,” I begin.
Dr. Harris encourages me to continue with a nod.
I lean forward, bracing my forearms on my knees, eyes fixed on the floor. “You mentioned last time that my ideas about love have a lot to do with how I’m feeling,” I say, working through the thought as it forms. “Well… I think I loved the idea of Tori more than I actually loved her.”
The admission hangs there, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.
Dr. Harris scribbles something on his notepad, nodding again. “How so?”
Sighing, I lean back against the couch cushion, staring up at the ceiling.
This is my third session with my therapist, and I am finally starting to feel some of the pain in my chest subsiding.
“I wanted to believe in us so hard because I felt like I had to,” I continue.
“I made the decision to get married and even told myself that everything would be perfect, so then when it didn’t feel that way, I didn’t listen to my gut.
I kept telling myself that it would all work out because that’s what I wanted to happen. ”
“You ignored your intuition.”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Tell me more about your grandfather,” Dr. Harris continues. “You said he set the bar for how you wanted your relationships to feel?”
A memory from my childhood hits me. I can see my grandparents dancing around the kitchen, laughing as Frank Sinatra plays through the small handheld radio sitting on the kitchen counter.
“He and my grandma were always happy. They loved each other so much, it was sickening really,” I say through a laugh.
“Their relationship was the complete opposite of what my parents had, and I wanted Tori and I to have that too. It was all I could think about.”
Dr. Harris sets his pen down on his notepad and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
“Sometimes when we have these two opposing viewpoints, Elliot, it can make us romanticize certain things and villainize others. You focus on the happy moments between your grandparents, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t have their share of problems and disagreements. ”
“True…”
“And since you only saw the good, the bad with your own parents was magnified. As a result, I think part of your struggle with this failed relationship is the mismanaging of your expectations.”
My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”
“Disappointment comes from our expectations not being met. In other words, part of why you’re battling so much with what happened was because you had such high expectations of what could have been, but it wasn’t really there to begin with.
” He glances down at his pad of paper. “Over the past three weeks, you’ve mentioned numerous things that occurred in your relationship that you didn’t address—Tori’s unhealthy boundaries with her job, her convincing you to have kids when you didn’t want them, and even how you felt your affection was one-sided.
The thing is, without a partner who wants many of the same things as you and is willing to compromise on others, it’s hard to ever achieve what your grandparents had. ”
I blink several times as I process his words. “So, me wanting that type of relationship and having it are two different things?”
He nods. “Precisely. And as you discovered with Tori, she wasn’t invested in your relationship the way you were. So, even though you had the best of intentions, the relationship was doomed from the start.”
I glance over at his bookshelf. “Which is why I feel like now I was more in love with the idea of her, and I’m placing all of the blame for this failure on myself.”
Dr. Harris smiles. “Precisely.”
***
Me: I guess therapy isn’t so bad.
The message goes from sent to read in an instant. My knee bounces up and down as I wait for a reply.
Dilynne: Is that your way of saying that I was right?
Me: No, this is my way of saying you can leave me alone now.
Dilynne: You’re welcome, Elliot. I’m so glad you can admit that I’m the most intelligent person you know.
Me: I’m serious, Dilynne. You don’t need to check on me anymore.
Dilynne: When’s the last time you had a drink?
Me: It’s been two weeks.
Dilynne: That’s not very long…
Me: You’re not my mother.
Dilynne: Thank God for that. But seriously, Elliot. You’re making progress, which is great. Just don’t think you’re magically cured after seeing a therapist for a few weeks. Setbacks are bound to happen.
Me: You know, the more you check in on me, the more I’m beginning to think we might actually be friends.
Dilynne: See? That right there tells me that you’ve definitely been drinking.
I laugh as I type out my reply.
Me: Nope. Sober as hell, unfortunately. But I think I’m right. Only a friend would have checked up on me for this long, right?
Dilynne: I told you, I just couldn’t insult you normally without feeling guilty about it. So, now that you’re on the mend, we can go back to our normal behavior.
The phone loads with a picture of her staring at the camera and flipping me off.
I stare at it, a smirk on the corner of my mouth, and then the strangest thing happens…
My dick starts to get hard.
Staring down at my crotch, I can feel my brows pull together. “Uh…what the actual fuck, man?”
Little did I know, this was just the first of many new problems I’d have over the next six months.
***
Six Months After the Wedding
“Elliot? Is that you?” Kevin Watson walks over to me from the corner of the community center, pushing his glasses up on his nose. It’s been almost a year since I’ve seen him, so his surprise is warranted.
“It is, Kevin. Been a long time, huh?”
When he reaches me, his hand is outstretched, waiting for me to shake it. I happily oblige. “I’ll say. Gosh, you look good, though.”
His meaning is implied in his tone—despite being jilted at the altar.
“Thank you. I’m…I’m feeling good, but I knew that coming back here tonight would make me feel even better.”
Kevin waves for me to follow him over to the six-foot plastic tables and foldable chairs situated in rows, and the small table in the corner with an older coffee pot, Styrofoam cups, and powdered creamer. Looks like some things never change.
“Ready to jump back into things then?”
I nod. “As long as nothing has changed.”
Kevin sighs. “Well, not really. I mean, not having you around has definitely made these nights feel less meaningful. But I understand why you’ve been away.”
Kevin worked in my family’s law firm while my grandfather was still running the show.
He was young, fresh out of law school, and my grandpa gave him a shot.
He’s been volunteering for the Charlotte Community Law Council since my grandpa founded it, and as soon as I could, I’ve been donating my time too.
Well, with the exception of the past year, that is.
“How’s your dad?” Kevin asks as I take a seat and go through the stack of papers in front of me, applications from people in town that need legal advice but can’t afford to pay for it.
That’s the whole point of these nights—to give back to the community because, as my grandfather taught me, money isn’t everything.
Many lawyers chase the dollar and lose sight of why they went into law in the first place. My grandpa tried to prevent my father from doing the same, but unfortunately, he got wrapped up in chasing the dollar, as evident by how he’s run things at the practice since he took it over.
I, however, knew how important this council was to my grandfather, so I’ve made sure to donate my time when I can. It’s the least I can do to honor him.
Though, my priorities shifted and life got in the way over the past year, and my dad has been trying to find reasons to keep me from here. Which is why he has no idea where I am tonight.
“Oh, my father is just as greedy as ever,” I say in answer to Kevin’s question.
He shakes his head. “Such a shame.”
“I know, but things seem to be going well, so I can’t completely fault him for chasing success.
” When my father took over the practice, he and Kevin butted heads almost immediately.
My dad wanted to change everything, and Kevin was used to the way my grandpa did things.
Sadly, he left the practice after only a few months, but we’ve kept in touch, primarily through our work with the council.
Kevin flashes me a lopsided smile. “Success comes in many different forms, Elliot.”
“Yeah, I think everyone could use that reminder sometimes. And what about you? How much longer are you going to do this?”
He blows out a breath as he removes his glasses from his face. “I’ve got a few more years left in me. Not quite ready to hang it up.” The corner of his lips quirks. “Besides, nights like these keep me going.”
I nod in agreement. “Then let’s get to it.”
The first woman I meet with is having issues with her landlord. I give her a few tips on how to “threaten” him without having to take legal action. She’s extremely grateful.
The next man I meet with is in a war with his neighbor over a tree. A few printed papers with codes about land ownership put a smile on his face as he walks out of the center.
And the night continues on in that fashion until I finally look at the clock and notice that it’s after eight.
“So good to have you back, Elliot.” Kevin slaps me on the back as we walk out to our cars.
“I’ve gotta say, I needed that.” Inhaling the crisp night air, a smile washes over my face, the first genuine one I’ve felt in a long time.
“Keep me posted on your run for District Attorney, will you?” Kevin has had the goal of that position for a long time, and I’m proud that he’s finally going after it.
“Of course.”
Once I’m on my way back to Blossom Peak, I realize I never ate dinner, so I pull through a drive-thru and scarf down my food on the way home.
But as I walk up to my front door a few hours later, I find a bag from The Happy Belly Deli. Glancing at the receipt stapled to the bag, I realize that this food was delivered over three hours ago.
Fucking Dilynne.