49. Gianni

Chapter forty-nine

Gianni

Friday, May 2, 2025

I can tell it’s still early because the sun isn’t up just yet, but then why is Lark not in bed? In her place is Rex, who has his scraggly ass pressed up against her pillow. I roll my eyes at him when he looks over his shoulder at me, one lip caught on his snaggletooth. I do my best to maneuver out of the bed, which is now filled with all three dogs, taking up every inch of moveable space.

I make my way into the empty living room and pad across the hard floors to where the door to her new art studio is cracked open.

The sight before me nearly takes my breath away.

Lark is sitting on the stool with a paintbrush in hand, and even though I know whatever she’s painting on that massive canvas has got to be breathtaking in itself, I can’t look away from her.

Her soft, auburn waves cascade over her slim shoulders. The sun is starting to rise through the window, and she’s engulfed in their rays. She looks beyond stunning, and I can’t take my eyes off her .

She must feel my eyes on her because she spins in her stool, her eyes wide when she sees me, but a slow smile turns her lips. “Good morning, handsome,” she tells me, and I’ll be damned if that doesn’t make my heart rate pick up.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” I say. My feet carry me to her, and she plops her brush down onto her palette before winding her arms around my neck. I could wake up every day to this beautiful woman in my arms and die a happy man.

“I’m sorry I interrupted.”

She kisses the side of my neck, leaving warmth trailing down from that spot and into my heart below it.

“It’s for the best. I’ve gotta get to work soon, and you,” she says with a smile, pointing the tip of her finger into my chest, “have an appointment soon.”

My brows raise in confusion, but I quickly remember what appointment she’s referring to. I expected to be nervous thinking about this again, but instead, I’m excited? I’m not really sure if that’s the right word for what I’m feeling, but I’m not torn up inside about it. I’m sort of looking forward to talking about the things that have bothered me for so long and seeing if there really is something I can do on my own to keep from letting these emotions drag me down.

This reminds me that I should take my medication soon. I picked it up yesterday and took my first dose in the morning. Thankfully, I didn’t experience a headache or nausea like Dr. Slader said I might after the first few doses, so hopefully, that remains the same. As far as the sexual dysfunction, that hasn’t been a problem yet, but I appreciate that Dr. Slader made me aware and went over options for changing medications if that does arise, though I imagine that side effect might take a while to rear its ugly head.

“Well then, we should both get going,” I say with a laugh, picking her up. Her legs wind around my waist, and I carry her into her bathroom, depositing her on the counter.

***

“Unless I can get someone else to cover for me, I think I’ll have to come back here to sleep for a few hours and then work the night shift into tomorrow morning too,” she tells me. Disappointment fills me, but I recognize that I can’t have her with me all the time. As much as I’d love that, I also know that being content with my own company is just as important as enjoying the company of those around me.

“That’s okay. I’ll miss you,” I tell her honestly, “but I’ll see you tomorrow, right? And then I can tell you all about how my appointment went.”

She smiles brightly at that. “I can’t wait,” she replies, standing on her tiptoes to press a warm kiss to my mouth. We lock up, and the dogs trot in front of us as we make our way to the elevator.

***

“I wouldn’t say I really experience feelings of panic or anxiety so much as dread?” I say it like a question.

“Are you asking me or telling me? I’m not being flippant, by the way. I truly just want to know if you’re struggling to put a name to the emotion or if you’ve already figured it out,” Dr. Fasano says.

I take a moment to think about this before speaking. “I think the feeling is dread. It’s not been so bad recently, but I worry that if I didn’t have Lark around to remind me of the good things, I might find it easy to slip back into my usual way of thinking. I’m absolutely certain that I’m not projecting my feelings or using her as a distraction, but I think it’s important for me to get my mind healthy with or without her.”

Dr. Fasano gives me a small smile and says, “That’s very insightful, Gianni, and I couldn’t agree more. From everything you’ve explained so far, it seems this woman has had a positive impact on your life, likely because of her own ability to process her emotions in a healthy way. So I feel that she’s been a good influence on you, but I don’t believe you’re trying to better yourself for her alone, which would be my concern. It seems pretty clear to me that you genuinely want to be better for yourself and that any self-improvement that might better her life as a result would just be the cherry on top, so to speak. Is that right?”

There’s no doubt in my mind as I answer him. “Yes, that’s right. I want to experience every emotion, but in ways and amounts, for lack of a better way of explaining that, that are considered normal, I guess. I don’t want to be happy all the time or sad all the time. I just want to have better control of my emotions and feel the right things at the right times.”

“And a lot of that will come with time as you and Dr. Slader work out your medications. Much of what you’re feeling is a result of a chemical imbalance, but we can absolutely work toward handling your grief in a healthy way. Now that we’ve gone over a lot of your history, would you like to discuss a coping mechanism and maybe some homework to try out for the week?” he asks me. His desire to only go as in-depth as I’m comfortable with makes me feel even better than I had at the start of our conversation. So far, this seems to be going well.

“That sounds good,” I agree.

“You mentioned on your intake questionnaire under hobbies that you play several instruments. Is this something you do because you find it enjoyable or because someone told you that you were good at it, and you felt you had to, or something similar?”

Without hesitation, I tell him, “I love music. I loved playing and singing and teaching myself how to play a new instrument.”

His face lights up. “You said you ‘loved’ those things. What’s changed?”

I have to fight the groan making its way up my throat. “I’ve been playing more recently, but not nearly as much as I used to. It was something Alex and I used to do together, mostly, and since he’s been gone, it just doesn’t feel as enjoyable.”

“Is that because that emotion you describe as dread comes creeping in?” he asks with a heavy nod, gaining me the confidence I need to tackle this topic.

“Yeah, I guess it just makes me think a lot about Alex and all the memories we shared and the ones we’ll never get to make,” I answer, but a frog is lodged in my throat. I don’t feel quite as sick talking about this as I’d expected to, but it definitely doesn’t feel good.

“How about this, then? This week, I want you to play or sing whatever you want, and when you start to feel that dread creep in, I want you to just play past it. Maybe include your partner in the activity so you can start to develop new, happier memories. Then, when we meet next week, I want to discuss how it made you feel. If you think you can handle it, maybe jot down a few sentences about how you felt afterward so we can discuss it.”

“That sounds like…” I hesitate. “Like a lot,” I answer as panic threatens to seize me. I clench my eyes shut, dragging in a breath for four seconds, holding it for four, and breathing it out for four before opening my eyes. “But I’m willing to try.” 1

Dr. Fasano’s lips curve into a smile. “That was very impressive, Gianni. The way you were able to sense your emotions trying to get the better of you, and then you were able to do something about it even with someone else watching. That was excellent,” he praises. “And giving it a try is all I ask. Not every technique is going to work the same for everyone. If this doesn’t work for you, we’ll just try something new. Give it a shot, and if it proves to be too much, we’ll reconsider what you might be ready for next week. Don’t hesitate to call my office if you feel you need to speak with me sooner, okay?”

We finish up our conversation and end the call after scheduling another appointment right before my follow-up with Dr. Slader next week so it doesn’t interfere too much with my soccer schedule.

Speaking of which, I have a game in a few hours that I need to get ready for.

1. Welcome to the Black Parade – My Chemical Romance