Chapter 39

39

SIX YEARS LATER – PRESENT DAY

"You've been seeing me for just over three years now and have always shot down talking about what happened between you and this boy." Her eyes were a comforting feeling, but right now, they pierce through me with accusations I'm not ready to admit. "Why now?"

I pick the skin around my thumb as they lay on my lap. I knew talking about this now would lead to this question, and I would have to open up more than just the simple story. Even after all these years and the weekly turned monthly therapy sessions, I'm still uncomfortable sharing the vulnerable parts of me. As the saying goes, once burnt, twice shy. However, for me, it's more like twice burnt, thrice shy. Because apparently, I didn't learn the first time.

But here, it should be a safe space. Just a lended ear that has no emotional connection to me.

So I take a deep breath and unload. "It's been six years since I've been back in my hometown and I'm leaving tomorrow to go back for my dad's wedding. But with the weeks leading up to it, all these memories and feelings have been stirring up, and I can't help but feel unprepared for this."

My therapist, Callie, smiles softly. "What makes you feel like you're unprepared?"

I shrug. "I guess the familiarity of the place. I've had a lot of bad memories there, and I never thought I would have to return. But I would never miss my dad's wedding." I'm so happy for my dad. I've met the woman he has fallen for through many Facetime calls, and all I can do is feel happy for him because he deserves all the happiness. And I may feel a little envious of the way they look at each other and love so freely.

"I'm just scared of the walk down memory lane that I'll have to do. Sleep in the same bed I fell in love in. Drive past the things I found enjoyment in and now despise."

Callie was the first therapist I saw when I decided I needed someone to talk to four years ago. I was skeptical at first, thinking I shouldn't really see a therapist because all I had was a broken heart and some emotions to work through. But she has validated me the whole way, and I have stuck with her ever since. I have told her everything.

Well, now I have.

I had mentioned a boy I had fallen in love with a few times, but anytime she wanted me to elaborate on what happened, I changed the subject. More often than not, to my mother. And even though what had happened during that summer was a big factor in my decision to talk to someone, I chickened out every time. My words clogged up my throat, refusing release.

But today, as soon as I sat down, Callie didn't even have time to say a word before the words poured from my lips. Every single detail. Every glance, every kiss, every smile, every moment, and all the back and forth. It all came crashing down on the floor and absorbed in the white walls of this small office.

She knew me better than anyone, which is probably why there was a knowing smile growing on her lips right now.

"Do you still love him?"

"No." My answer was so quick that she barely finished her sentence.

She hums before she starts scribbling something on the notepad on her lap. She knows how much I hate that.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" she replies.

I roll my eyes. "You know what." She knows exactly how to pull more out of me when she knows the subject is approachable. I sigh. "I don't love him. But I think I'll always have feelings for him. My anger, though, will always overshadow that. I don't think I could ever forgive him."

Callie softens. "You don't have to forgive him. You don't have to stop hating him. But most people will always feel a piece of them tethered to their first love. It's their first experience of love outside of familial love. It's exciting. It's new. It's experimental. Some things they learn not to do when it's over, and some things they learn to carry over to their next relationship."

I mull over her words as they sink deep beneath my skin and settle like a warm blanket over my heart.

When I moved to Melbourne six years ago, it was with a shattered heart I thought could never be mended. I cried myself to sleep for a month before Dad's friend's daughter, Ellie, pulled me out and forced me out of the house to show me the city. I slowly started to get into the rhythm of daily life and I started building a portfolio of my photographs around the city. But it didn't heal the broken pieces of my heart. I started seeing Callie almost every week, and then eight months later, when it felt like the stitches I had stitched would hold, I slowed it down to every month.

But now this is my last face-to-face session with her for a while and I don't know how I'm going to feel about that. I'll still see her on our regular monthly schedule, however it'll be through a screen for two of the months.

"I'm scared." I swallow deeply as I lean back on the soft velvet couch and look up at the ceiling, trying hard to shove down the pinch I feel in my nose before I start crying. "I know there's a low chance I will see him again during my stay, given his career. But I'm scared that I will and I won't be ready for that encounter."

"You said he's an MLB player. Maybe he'll be too busy travelling. The only connection to him you have is that one of his friends is dating yours, right? Don't let fear hold you back from being happy and enjoying your time," she smiles, leaning back in her chair. I thought she was done with her inspirational speech, but I was wrong when she shrugged. "And in that low chance that you see him, fake a smile. Don't let him see how you really feel. Don't let him see how he really affected you."

The last bit makes me chuckle. "I'll give that a try."

Looking over at the clock, she sighs. "Looks like our time is up,"

Standing with her, I go over and hug her. "Thank you for today, I needed it."

She squeezes me before letting go and smiling. "Of course. No problem is too small to see me about. Don't forget that."

It's the first thing she told me when I sat on that couch for my first session. I was fiddling with my fingers, not knowing how to start. I mumbled, ‘I don't know if I should even be here. My problems aren't even that big'. And she stopped me, put some essential oils in the diffuser that sat on the coffee table beside me and told me to take a few deep breaths. Then she said ‘No problem is too small for therapy. We accept everyone'. I relaxed and she eased me into everything. It took three sessions before she asked what brought me here to see her. I appreciated the time she took to make me feel comfortable before deep diving.

"I'll see you next month for our Zoom session. I expect to hear all the amazing wedding details."

I beam. "Will do."

Walking outside the building, I feel the tiniest bit lighter now that I have finally let go of that story. I take in the fresh air and the smell of oncoming rain. Being the middle of spring, rainy days have been a regular here in Melbourne and the chill was still wrapping around the city.

I haven't gotten used to the city and how different it is from Brisbane, but I have made it my home. I didn't mind how much colder it got, the dry air, or that it was a whole lot busier than back home.

However, I do sometimes miss it. But not too much. Because even though I have finally told the story I have been holding onto for six years, I still feel the tension in my shoulders. I have to move back tomorrow. I have to face the memories and familiarity of the town I had my heart broken. For three months, I will brace it for my dad because no matter how much sadness it will bring me to be there, it will never overshadow my happiness about my dad getting married again.

It's only a short walk back to my apartment, and I thankfully got there before the sky decided to open up. Riding the elevator up to the fourth floor in silence, I unlock my door and am greeted by my roommate blaring music as he moves around the kitchen, making some concoction of alcoholic beverage like he usually does on a Friday night before he goes out.

As the door shuts behind me, he spins around, a wide grin splayed on his face as he holds up a bottle of vodka in one hand and whiskey in the other.

"There she is. Come on, it's time to catch up." He beckons me over.

I drop my handbag on the dining table in the space between the lounge and the kitchen on my way to him.

"I told you I didn't want to make this a big deal. I won't be gone for long," I drawl, but take the drink he pushes in front of me. I take a big swig, grimacing at the awful mix he deems is the best way to get drunk fast. And, well, after today I need it, so I push back my disgust and down the whole drink in one big gulp. Daniel cheers me on as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Atta girl. Drink up. Gotta catch up somehow," he slurs slightly. Looking at him from a closer distance, I can see the slight haze in his eyes from the alcohol consumption and his flushed cheeks. He is definitely buzzed. I'm not surprised that he made a head start.

"Where's Ellie?" I ask, taking a seat on the bar stool at the kitchen island, sipping at the new drink Dan slid to me this time.

He checks his watch as he mumbles, "She should be walking through any time now."

And just as he finishes his sentence, the front door opens and Ellie whirls in with her arms full from the amount of bags hanging over them as she kicks the front door closed.

She looks exhausted but still, she smiles brightly as she makes her way over to us and dumps the bags onto the counter. "Sorry, I'm late. I just did a little shopping," she starts before starting to pull pantry items, vegetables, and meats from the bag. She stops and looks at me then, her arm frozen in one of the bags. "I got you something though. Think of it as a farewell gift."

I roll my eyes. "Why are you guys acting like I'll be gone forever? It's just three months. I'll be back after that."

Ellie plants her spare hand on her hip. "Three months is a long time for things to change. What if you change your mind and stay? You might miss it there."

I immediately shake my head. "No. Not possible. I love my dad and I miss my best friends, but Melbourne is my home now."

Ellie waves me off. "Anyway, don't sidetrack me. Here."

She pulls out a white box and sits it in front of me. She bounces on her toes, waiting for me to open it, so I whip off the top and take away the tissue paper before revealing a navy blue silk material. My eyes start watering as I realise what it is and I look at her, seeing her already beaming at me.

"Well? Take it out."

I pull it out, the material pooling down to my ankles as I hold it against my frame, the dress beautifully flowing down with a slit up the left side and the back of the dress looping down to sit at the lower back. It is simple and stunning.

"Ellie," I whisper, moving the material around to watch how it flows.

"It's beautiful, I know. One of my proudest creations yet."

Ellie is a fashion designer and is always pinning us as guinea pigs to model her clothes. It's fun, all the makeshift fashion walks we create, but what's not fun is being pricked and prodded by her needles.

I mean, it was fair and I braced through it since she was the shoulder I cried on when I first moved here six years ago. She was my dad's friend's daughter who saved my life when I decided to move here and I feel so indebted to her, even though she says that it's fine. I'll forever be grateful to her for saving me from those god-awful months after I moved.

I shake out of my thoughts, not wanting to go back to that time.

"You better send me so many photos of you wearing that at the wedding. I expect model material when you're wearing that," Ellie informs me with a stern face, her finger pointing at me to try and appear tough, but we both know she couldn't hurt a fly.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Are we drinking or not? I'd rather get this night started sooner than later."

I fold the dress back in the box as I roll my eyes at Daniel.

"Yes, yes. Let's do shots," Ellie says, gathering shot glasses from the cupboard behind Daniel before lining them up and pouring tequila into them. I wince, knowing this is going to hit me hard tomorrow before my flight. I take the shot she passes to me anyway, and we cheers to friendship before downing the liquid.

Daniel organised for us to go out ‘one last time' before I leave them behind. I've reminded them time and time again that it's only for three months, but they don't care. It was an excuse to get out of the house and get drunk, and I don't mind one bit.

I need this one last night before I am thrown into the trenches of helping Dad with wedding planning.

I am excited about it, don't get me wrong. But I never imagined myself stepping back into that town again, afraid of the ghosts that lingered there.

So, I opt for this one night. One more night before I have to walk down memory lane. Before I have to face the ghost of my past.

And hopefully, I don't run into him .