Authors: Jessica Gadziala
No.
It was just right.
But
I only blossomed because of him.
He
was the gracious Sun. Me, the ungrateful Earth.
“Chase,
I can't thank...”
“Don't,”
he said, his words heavy. “Don't thank me, Ava.”
A
silence hung then, long and full of words needing to be said.
“Ava,”
he said finally, making me jump. “Can you come here for a
second?” he asked, holding an arm out.
I
wasn't exactly sure what he was asking, but I got to my feet and
stepped closer. His hand reached out and touched my arm, pulling
slightly. “Closer,” he said, sitting back in his chair.
With my feet touching the feet of the chair, there was no way to get
closer but to move into his lap. When I looked up, questioningly, his
other arm reached out for me.
And
my first thought was: no.
It
was what I had been convincing myself shouldn't happen. It wasn't the
clean break I said I needed.
But
it was everything I wanted.
So
I slid onto his lap and his arms went around me, pulling me close. I
rested my head on his chest, his cheek coming down on top of my hair.
And
he just... held me.
I
closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat, steady, sure. His arms
pulled me tighter and I carefully planted a kiss over his shirt, too
soft for him to feel it.
For
me, that was therapy.
His
touch was a remedy. It was a cure.
A
long time later, his hands drifted up and into my hair, stroking
through it gently, tirelessly, as the clock ticked the better part of
an hour away.
“Chase...”
“Yeah,
baby?”
What
could I say? What was left?
I
sighed, shaking my head slightly. “You made me so much better.”
“No,
babe. You made yourself better. I just helped you along.”
“Geez,
learn to take a compliment, would you?” I asked and was
rewarded with a small chuckle.
“You're
amazing, Ava. Don't ever let anyone try to convince you otherwise.
Promise me that.”
That
was a tall order.
“I'll
try.”
“Not
good enough,” he said, kissing my hair. “Try again.”
I
snorted, smiling a little. Bossy Chase. “Okay. I'll
really
try.”
“You're
impossible,” he said and I could imagine the eye roll I was
getting. “In the future, when you are with someone and...”
“The
moment,” I cut in, surprising myself.
“I'm
sorry?” Chase asked, his hands stilling.
I
tilted my head up slightly to look at his face. “Someone once
told me to be in the moment,” I explained. “I think that
was pretty good advice,” I said, resting my head back against
my safe place. I wanted to suck up every last bit of the feeling it
gave me, to keep stored away, to bring out when I was lonely and sad
and anxious.
I
had a feeling there were a lot of those days ahead.
“Okay,”
he said, and we stayed there, in that silent moment.
Until
I drifted off.
Then
woke up with a jolt out of a bad dream.
“Hey,”
Chase's voice said, gruff, like he had been sleeping too. “You
alright?”
“Dream,”
I said, pushing myself up. I checked the clock then quickly got to my
feet. I needed to go. The session was over. It was done. It was over.
And I needed to leave. Before I kinda... lost it. Which was what I
felt on the verge of doing.
“Where
are you going?”
“It's
almost one,” I said, searching for my keys and wallet.
“So
what?” he asked, sitting forward.
“I
just... it's time to go,” I said, turning.
He
looked away from me, reaching for his scotch and finishing it in one
gulp. “I'll walk you to your car.”
“No,”
I said, too quickly. “No, I'm fine. Stay here. Relax. You
look... tired.” Which wasn't quite right. It wasn't tired, but
I needed to stop looking at him.
“Ava...”
“Thank
you, Chase,” I said, walking stiffly toward the door and
closing it behind me.
I
leaned against it for a long moment, looking for the strength to move
forward, not go back. I turned, putting my hand against the wood as
if I could feel him through it, taking a deep breath... then walking
out of his office.
After
the Session
Ten
Minutes
I
managed to keep it together until I got home, opening the door, and
falling into Shay's waiting arms. Crying. No... sobbing. Big, ugly,
snot-filled hysterics. And she just stood there and let it run
through me. Then walked me to my bed, opening the blankets, and
letting me bury inside.
“I'm
right here,” she said, crawling into the foot of the bed and
lying there, “if you need anything, okay?”
Seven
Hours
“Seriously,
go back to bed,” Jake said, looking at my face with a mix of
sympathy and disgust. I knew it was bad. I was tear-stained and
blotchy. My eyes felt like planets.
“I'm
going to work,” I said, grabbing an ice pack out of the
freezer, wrapping it in a paper towel, and pressing it against my
eyes.
“Ava,
I'll tell them you're sick,” Shay reasoned.
“I've
been out twice already. And I need the distraction.”
“Still
sick with that fake love shit, huh?” Jake asked in typical
unfeeling male fashion.
I
half-snorted, half-laughed. “I'm not sure it just goes away
right away.”
“Unless
it ain't no transference,” Shay supplied.
“What
else could it be?” Jake asked.
“She's
fucking in love with him, you idiot,” Shay said, tapping her
heel on the floor.
“It's
fak...”
“It
ain't fake. The only person who believes that is you.”
“And
Dr. Bowler,” I said, pulling the ice off my eyes.
“Dr.
Bowler doesn't know shit then. Because this is love. Straight up,
can't eat without them, can't sleep without them love. And it isn't
going away. Especially if you keep acting like it ain't what it is.”
I
shook my head, putting the ice pack away. “We are going to be
late,” I insisted, making my way to the door.
“You're
not even going to think about it?”
“No,”
I said, finally. She just didn't understand.
It
was transference.
And
it was going to pass.
Three
Days
“Come
on, look at all this food,” Jake said, in the tone like he was
trying to trick a dog into eating a piece of lunch meat with a pill
wrapped in it.
“I'm
not hungry,” I grumbled, burying deeper into my robe, turning
the volume on the
TV
up.
“You've
said that for like every meal for days.”
“And
it's been true for every meal for days,” I said, the thought of
food making my mouth dry up and my stomach turn.
It
wasn't getting better.
I
was trying to ignore Shay's constant nagging at me to stop being in
denial. To admit that I had real, genuine, normal, woman-for-man
feelings for Chase.
When
that failed, she insisted I set up an appointment for Dr. Bowler
because she 'wasn't going to sit around and watch me be a little
bitch' about my feelings forever.
So
I called.
And
I had an appointment for the next afternoon on my lunch break. An
appointment I was looking forward to because I needed the
reassurance. Especially after three days and absolutely no lessening
of the dark pit inside.
Four
Days
“Ava,
how have...” she trailed off, stepping aside and waiting for me
to join her in her office. “What happened?”
My
head jerked slightly. “I, um... I ended therapy, remember?”
“When?”
“Monday.”
“Why
didn't you call me sooner?”
“I
was just... dealing with all these... residual feelings and I wasn't
really feeling up to talking yet.”
“How
did your last few sessions go?”
Horribly.
Then
great.
Then
over.
“Not
great. Things were cold. Some... distance I guess. On both our parts.
I was trying to, you know, keep myself together. I knew it was ending
and I was struggling with that.”
“May
I ask, and you do not need to answer, what you did on your last
visit?”
I
nodded, looking down at my hands. “I guess it started with a
little talk therapy, but it felt weird. Kind of forced and awkward.
And then he...”
“He
did what?”
“He
asked me to come over and sit on his lap. So I did. And we just...
sat there like that for... I don't know... hours.”
“Ava,”
she said, in a tone I knew not to trust. Something was coming.
Something I probably didn't want to hear. “I'm not... entirely
convinced this is a case of transference.”
“What?”
I asked, my eyes shooting up to her face.
No.
That
wasn't possible.
It
had to be.
She
held up a hand. “Transference is usually a pretty cut-and-dry
thing for doctors to recognize. Because it is so one-sided. One
person is bared to the other and one is completely closed off. With
sexual surrogacy, that isn't exactly the case. You are both
vulnerable. You are
both
exposed in a very literal, but also figurative, way. Maybe what you
feel is genuine, Ava. Maybe you have feelings for Chase Hudson.”
I
closed my eyes, exhaling hard.
I
think a part of me knew.
I
think that was why I had been clinging to the idea of transference so
hard. As an excuse. As an explanation. So I didn't have to take
responsibility.
“Ava...”
“I
know,” I said, my voice quiet. “I think I've always
known.”
“What
are you thinking?”
I
rolled my eyes. “That there is nothing as pathetic as
unrequited love,” I said, smiling a little.
Of
course I would fall in love with my therapist. It was completely
inappropriate and needy and co-dependent.
How
like me.
“Ava,
maybe you should talk to Dr. Hudson about...”
“No,”
I said, firmly. “No,” I added again. “That chapter
is over. I'm not dragging him back into my mess. This is my problem.
I need to learn to fix it myself. I can't keep leaning on him. It
isn't right.”
“Did
you ever stop to consider...”
“Consider
what?”
“That
maybe the feelings...”
“No,”
I said, loudly enough for Dr. Bowler to start. “Sorry,” I
said, shaking my head. I just... I couldn't let that false hope into
my bruised little heart. It wouldn't help. It had been days. Chase
could have called. He could have shown up. But he didn't. Because I
was just a client. That was all. One of many. Nothing special.
“Okay,”
she shrugged. “I know right now, this seems impossible and like
I am just feeding you platitudes,” she said, smiling a little,
“but this will fade. I know it doesn't seem like it. And that
this is such a unique situation because Chase gave you things that no
man has ever been able to before. That feels like a insurmountable
thing to get through. But now that you know you are capable of having
those kinds of connections with men, you can eventually have that
again.”