Chapter 16 Lucas #2
He hums, parking himself on the floor next to the couch. “I do believe you jumped through the first two stages of denial and anger rather quickly. And now you’re seated in the bargaining stage. We should start there.”
I groan. His hand lands on my shoulder. The light brown eyes settle something in my soul, maybe because they remind me of Lettie’s.
“You’ve had more than a fair share of shitty hands, Lucas.
You lost your dad a long time ago. Life is hard enough as it is.
It’s even harder without someone’s footsteps to follow.
Yet, you still did all the things he did for your mom when you were able to. ”
A tear rolls down my cheek, landing in my ear.
The cold is a much needed distraction from the thoughts swirling around my head.
Wilder once told me that it was easier to give in to the dark than to fight it.
I never knew what that was like. I do now, I wouldn’t wish this psychological warfare on anyone.
“Your mom has been gone, mentally, for just as long. Her death is now permanent. For someone like you, who has tried to be what she needed for the past two decades, for the carpet to be pulled out from under you… I know how that could be translated to you not being enough, but that isn’t the case.”
I scoff. How is it not? How could someone look at my situation and not point their finger in my direction? I can’t voice that, though, so I silently let the tears fall. “Much like you can’t see a way out of the grief you’re feeling now, your mom felt the same with your dad.”
He squeezes my shoulder, “But let me tell you something, Lucas. You have what she didn’t. You have a group of friends who see and love you for who you are. They love you enough to mandate you being here as part of your ability to play.”
I close my eyes, letting myself feel the comfort my friends, and mostly Lettie, have tried to give me the past few weeks. The comfort I pushed back on at every turn. They don’t deserve that. “You have a family, one you’ve built yourself. Let them help you.”
He’s right, I do. I laugh at the thought that I’m sabotaging my own healing, that I’m becoming exactly what she was. At first, it’s a broken chuckle. Slowly, it morphs into one that sounds like the manic laugh of the Joker. Good God, I’m off my freaking rocker.
“Family night is coming up, Monroe. There’s a little girl who’s counting on you to be there. And that’s not a guilt trip, just trying to get you to see all of what you’re fighting for.”
Holy hell, how did I forget about family night? I should ask Lettie if she’ll go with me. I don’t think she’s ever been skating, at least I hope she hasn’t. Nothing would make me happier than teaching her. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll try a little harder to pull my head out of my ass.”
He gives me a satisfied smile, one that falters when he sees my waterbottle. “I’m gonna need you to drink twelve of those today. You smell like you spent the night in a distillery.”
My laugh is loud, scraping against the walls of my heart.
One thing I love about this guy is that he works exclusively with athletes, meaning he knows how to handle us.
He’s not intimidated. He gives it to us straight, doesn’t let us off the hook, but also doesn’t treat us any differently than I assume he’d treat a person with a normal job.
I sit up and give him a salute. “Will do.” I say, “Is there something I can do to help me not want to reach for a bottle?”
His head tilts to the side, eyes narrowing as he waits for me to continue.
Sighing, I run my hand down my face. “I don’t crave it.
It’s just like my go-to when I’m alone. Like girls crave chocolate ninety percent of the time when they get stressed, that’s my weapon of choice at the moment.
It’s the easy route, but how do I deal with the underlying shit that makes me want to numb myself? ”
My eyes meet his, my impatience growing by the second. “I need a step-by-step action plan, Doc. It’s a slippery slope, one I know I could get caught in. I don’t want to, but I also don’t not want to. You know?”
He shakes his head, and a soft, disbelieving laugh hangs in the air between us.
“There is no step-by-step plan, Lucas. Healing isn’t linear.
You’ll have good days and bad days, but the best thing you can do is lean on your friends.
Let people be there for you. Tell them what you just told me and ask them to hold you accountable. ”
I nod, I already knew all that, I was just hoping for a cheat sheet or something. A shortcut to jump to the acceptance stage of grief, or whatever.
“The fact that you’re aware that it could potentially become a problem means you’re not completely lost in your grief.
The fact that you want tools to combat the urge to numb the pain means you’re on the right track.
Lean on your support system, keep showing up here.
But most importantly, just be you. Don’t try to be someone you're not just out of spite. That’s not who you are, Lucas. ”
Out of spite. That’s a damn good way to put how I’m feeling.
Abby was right to mandate this. I do feel better.
Even if it was just to admit that I don’t have the best coping mechanisms at the moment.
To talk through the numerous what-ifs. One in particular, “Doc? Was there something I could have done to save her?” My head hangs heavy in front of me.
He cracks his knuckles in rapid fire, “I need you to listen and listen close.” He says in a voice so stern I didn’t know my chill as a cucumber therapist had in him.
“There is not a thing you could have done. This is not on you. Her death is not your burden to carry. It was her time, but there was nothing you could have done to prevent it.”
That’s what I needed to hear.