I walked into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Jack out of my freezer. Opening it, I figured drinking out of the bottle was in order for this situation; a glass would just make me get numb slower.
I went through the motions of the next few days, just self-medicating with alcohol, stupid TV reruns, a book I had read a thousand times, and work. I ignored the calls from Cali, my mother and everyone else who felt the need to check up on me. The only call I answered was from Mitch. I knew he needed me, and we talked for a while about how his shattered family was handling everything.
He and his father had not heard from Eva since she ran away. We both figured it was all for the best. Mitch had been pretty worried about Buck, and decided that it was in both of their best interests if Mitch moved back home for a while. The conversation started to lean in a direction I was not comfortable with, and when Mitch asked how living with Walker was going, I ended the call lying that work was on the other line. I felt like a complete batty loon, coward, idiot, harlot, and many other things all rolled into one.
For the first time, I was excited to be sitting in my therapist’s lobby. I desperately needed advice, or really, someone to make decisions for me. Dr. Davenport was sickeningly cheerful, ushering me in from the waiting room. Her hair was done in bouncy curls and she had a hint of red lipstick on, which made her skin look almost pasty white. She smiled wide at me, taking her regular seat across from me on the couch, daintily crossing her ankles as she opened her note pad to write. She looked up at my blood-shot eyes, forcing her cheery smile to twist into a frown. “Have you been getting enough sleep, Mags?”
The amount of concern that filled her voice made me feel sick. “Yeah, I guess so.” I slouched down onto the back of the couch. I didn’t know why I was lying to my therapist, but it seemed like the correct answer.
Candice stared at me for a minute, analyzing my gaze. “So, have you considered having someone move in or not?”
I couldn’t believe how much had changed since the last time I had seen her.
Shocked at my response, she shifted in her chair. “What happened? Did someone move in already?”
I tried to calm my temper and being as polite as possible, forcing a softer expression as I took the tissue from Candice’s dainty hand. I explained to her about Walker moving in and how I was conflicted. I told her everything up to Sunday’s events. I was still ashamed of my feelings and actions from that day. I did not feel right letting those words escape me. Mostly, it was from fear that if I said it out loud, it must have really happened.
My therapist calmly sat, letting me finish my whole story, well, everything up to my evening ending with Cali. I didn’t know how to put the rest into words, so I didn’t. I just waited, hoping Candice would take over the conversation. Her hand stopped writing, as she gazed up into my eyes, her voice low. “So, have you made up your mind about your roommate? Do you think you have feelings for him?”
“This is something we need to explore. Please, Mags, I am here for you to tell me anything. Don’t hold back on yourself, it will only delay progress.”
Not wanting to fight my feelings anymore, I finally let myself open up to my therapist. I relaxed my body, forced in a deep breath and began to finish my story. Once I got to the point of asking Walker to leave for a little while, a little bit of sadness settled in. I realized then that I truly missed him.
I had not seen or heard from Walker since he left my house. It was odd for us, usually talking every day, especially since we were supposed to be roommates. I sighed, wondering what he had told Jim and Liz about why he had returned. It was strange for Liz not to call me if she thought something was wrong. I planned hat after my session was over, I was going to call her to “check in” but really it was to get information about Walker.
I realized my body had stiffened again as Candice began, looking up from her notepad. “Let me just see if I have the time line of events correct.” She paused and waited for my nod of approval before continuing. “You asked Walker to move in Wednesday on your way to work. By the end of the day on Thursday, he was all settled in. Friday you and he went out, leading into your fight, ending this past Sunday with finding out Walker didn’t sleep with the girl and then sleeping with him yourself.” I stared at her, my lips parted, letting the reality of how fast everything had happened. In my shock, I could only nod yes to confirm her chronicle.
Candice shifted in her seat, leaning over and reaching for my hands, I hadn’t realized how badly they were shaking. With warm, thoughtful eyes, her voice softened. “Mags, let’s talk about what is really bothering you.”
I nodded, but didn’t know what I was supposed to say. There was misunderstanding and pain settling in. I felt like I was on the verge of a breakdown. When I felt Candice’s warm hand on my forearm, our eyes met. She had a look of concern as she continued. “Are you worried someone might replace Randy?
Tears started to well up in my eyes, realizing her words were true. I nodded again and she continued, never moving her hand or changing her expression, “I would like you to try to forgive yourself for wanting to be happy. I would like for you to try to understand that your vows were fulfilled and he would want you to move on. I want you to know that you deserve happiness and to be loved again.”
She handed me the box of tissues, pausing for a minute for my sobs to calm a little. Her words were piercing into me causing me to gasp for air. Candice grabbed my hand again, regaining her thoughtful eye contact, “I want you to let yourself fall in love again. If it happens to be with Walker, or with someone else, it does not matter. But,” She paused for a brief second, choosing her words carefully, “You need to free your heart to make room for someone new. I am not asking you to stop loving Randy. What you shared was magical and no one will ever be able to replace him to you.”
I was shuddering, crying, sobbing; acting like a blubbering fool. I could not compose myself. Everything that was just said I knew but never let myself think about or feel. Every suppressed emotion was smoldering, blistering my entire body. I went through the motions instead of allowing myself to grieve appropriately or let go; now it was being forced upon me. I involuntary took a few deep breaths as Candice instructed and they surprisingly helped. I was able to stop the almost hyperventilation, leaning back to try to calm my rigid muscles.
For a few minutes, we sat in silence; while Candice kept a soft, compassionate hand on mine. All I could do was stare at the floor, still shaking a little. She settled back down into a seemingly more comfortable position and asked me again in a whisper, “Mags, do you think you have feelings for Walker?”
This time I nodded yes as I let my head collapse into my open hands, tears falling more furiously down my cheeks, my nose even starting to run. Guilt washed over my body like icy water. I looked up and grabbed a few more tissues, waiting for more questions to be fired away, but they never came. Candice looked down at her watch, smiled sheepishly at me and told me she thought that our session had been very successful. She looked satisfied when I agreed, starting to leave her office, turning back quickly when one final question came to me, “What do you think I should do about Walker?” My voice was pleading and trembling, my eyes matching my tone.
She grinned at me again, put a loving hand on my shoulder and pulled me into a much-needed hug.
“I think I am going to call Walker, we have a lot to figure out and talk about. Thank you.” I pulled away from my therapist.
She nodded at me with a reassuring smirk and wished me luck as I opened the door to leave the building.
15
I took a deep breath as I turned onto my street. On my way home, I would pass the McManus’ house and I had planned that, if Walker’s truck was in the driveway, I was going to stop and talk to him. Right after I told Candice I was going to call him, I knew I would chicken out. Face-to-face was the only way I wouldn’t be able to back out of this one. In person, I was a terrible liar, and I was counting on that to make myself grow the balls to tell Walker how I felt. My heart started racing as I pulled past the red brick pavers to find that Walker’s truck was nowhere in sight. I was surprised at my lack of relief and how disappointed I felt.
