Chapter 54 – Kat
FIFTY-FOUR
KAT
Janet sits across from me in her cozy office, scribbling notes on her yellow legal pad. It has been a while since our last in-person therapy session, and I am relieved to be back in this familiar space where I can feel seen.
I just finished telling her about seeing my dad yesterday: everything he said and ultimately how I handled it.
“That must be incredibly difficult for you,” Janet says gently, her eyes filled with empathy.
I let out a shaky sigh and rub my arms, trying to force away the lingering emotions from seeing my father. It was necessary to face him after years of silence, even though it felt like an emotional nightmare. I’ve accepted who Patrick Marritt Sr. is, but my heart still struggles to come to terms with it. Last night, I laid in bed, tears streaming down my face as I tried to find solace in sleep.
With a nod, I force a tight-lipped smile. My hand trembles as I grab a tissue and dab at my teary eyes. “It was tough, but necessary,” I manage to say, my voice quivering with emotion .
“It was brave, Kat. Being hurt by it doesn’t make you less brave for facing him.”
“I just…I spent over twenty years chasing the love of a father who hates me. I feel stupid,” I confess.
“You’re not stupid. You have an immense capacity to love others—don’t allow your father’s inability to see the worth in that to diminish something that makes you so special.”
“Well, I’m two for two on loving people who don’t love me back, so it’s not exactly easy to look at it from a different point of view.” I cross my arms over my chest as I look at a framed photo of a cat in needlepoint on the wall behind her, desperately searching for a distraction.
“You’re not two for two, though. Yes, your father and Elijah were very hard lessons for you, but—Kat?”
“Hm?”
“Tanner loves you back, and that’s not nothing. It’s not everything; it can’t be everything. But he seems like someone who wants to help you be the best you, and that’s not nothing.”
“You’re right.” I bite down on the inside of my cheek.
“Have you had a chance to talk to your mom about what happened yesterday?”
I’ve been struggling to find the right words to discuss it with her, but ultimately I feel a sense of guilt. For years, I harbored resentment toward my mom for not trying harder with my dad, for not even pushing him to provide more child support. I never could grasp why she would rather work seventy hours a week at the restaurant, missing recitals, parties, and holidays, all to do it on her own. However, now that I’ve actually met the man, I can understand why she chose to distance herself from him.
“No, not yet.”