Chapter 43
Zoe
Riggs holds my hand as we sit across from Jamar, waiting for him to get off the phone and start my session. Jamar holds up a finger as he wraps up the call.
He sets his phone on the desk. “Sorry about that. LaRue has a long list of errands for me this afternoon. Apparently, we’re having a dinner party tonight.” He shrugs like it’s no big deal.
“It’s okay,” I tell him.
He smirks. “You just want to put off discussing your feelings.”
Riggs chuckles.
I shoot him a pretend glare. “Hey now, no ganging up on me.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Riggs says, holding up his hands in surrender.
Jamar smiles at us. “You two seem to be doing well.”
Riggs squeezes my hand. “Better than ever.”
Jamar turns his gaze on me. “Zoe?”
“I was wrong to make a big decision about us without talking to Riggs,” I admit.
Jamar nods. “It seems like you’re still conflicted about something.”
Riggs swallows hard, worry lines around his eyes deepen as he looks at me.
“I’m just afraid. . .” I trail off, not knowing how to express what I’m feeling without upsetting Riggs.
“Did something happen when you were shopping with Calla?” Riggs asks.
“No. We had a nice time,” I reassure him.
Jamar sits, patiently waiting. This man and his silence. They must’ve taught him this technique in his clinicals.
I chew my lower lip, trying to find the right words.
Riggs frowns. “What is it?” he asks. Apparently, Jamar’s silence is too much for him as well.
“I feel like we’re just pretending.” I keep my eyes down so I don’t have to see the look on his face when I admit this.
He shifts in his seat, moving so he can see more of my face. “What we have is real,” he insists. “How can I prove it to you?”
“We were drunk in Vegas. That’s not how lasting marriages start.”
“I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.” Riggs tries to keep his tone neutral, but I can hear the underlying panic. He’s just as scared of me leaving as I am of him not staying.
Jamar clears his throat. “Zoe, are you upset because you two got married?”
“No. I love Riggs. He’s helped me see how beautiful life can be.”
“What is it then?” Jamar asks, trying to guide me to the right words.
“We didn’t have an engagement or a real wedding. I want to get married with my mom there,” I say, sniffling. “I know it seems silly, but my whole life, I dreamed of getting married, and my dad walking me down the aisle. With him gone, celebrating with my family feels even more important.”
Riggs drops to his knees in front of the chair where I sit. “I’ll get you a fancy engagement ring and plan a romantic proposal. We can do the traditional wedding. If something’s important to you, it’s important to me.”
“Really?” How is he so perfect?
“Yes, really.”
I throw my arms around him, hugging him with everything I have. “You’re the best husband I could’ve asked for.”
Jamar clears his throat again. “Doesn’t it feel good to communicate with your partner about your wants and needs?”
I nod. “You were right.”
He smirks. “How’s that letter to your father coming along?”
“I can’t write it. I’ve tried. God, I’ve tried, but each time I try to tell my dad how I feel, I get so angry. I don’t want my last words to my dad to be. . .” My voice catches in my throat as I choke back sobs.
“You’ve already had your last words with your father,” Jamar says.
The sob I was holding back bursts forward. “I want them back!” I yell. “I want them back,” I say, quieter this time.
Riggs rubs circles on my back as I cry.
“Zoe, you’re not going to feel better until you confront what’s bothering you,” Jamar says.
“We were having breakfast, and I asked him to buy me a car. He said no, and I told him. . . I told him I hated him,” I wail. “My last words to my dad were that I hate him.”
“Shh, baby. He knows you didn’t mean it.” Riggs holds me as I cry.
I pull back so I can look at him. “How do you know?”
Riggs tucks my hair behind my ears, cupping my face. “Because I’m a dad. Calla has told me she hates me so many times I lost count at two hundred.”
I look at Jamar. “What if I’m the reason he killed himself? I told him I hated him that morning. What if that pushed him over the edge?”
“Zoe, your father made the choice to leave this earth because he struggled with his mental health. It was nothing you, your brother, or your mother did. He owns that choice. You do not.” Jamar’s words are firm, telling me there’s no room for argument on this.
Riggs kisses my temple. “You’re not to blame for your father’s decision.”
“Listen to the man. He knows what he’s talking about,” Jamar agrees.
By the time the session ends, I feel lighter. Not having to carry the burden of thinking I’m the reason Dad tried to commit suicide has set me free.
Now, I can focus on my future.