The Psychology of Falling in Love

XXXIII.II March 8th to March 10th

AN: mentions of abuse and trauma, light sexual encounter at the end.

March 8th continued.

Claire and I were silent as I drove carefully down the windy roads to our next destination. We were both extremely lost in thought after our excursion with the Tarot reader.

For me, it was terrifying. Madame didn't tell me anything new, but being read like a book by a complete stranger was frightening. She was right, of course. I am at the precipice of a decision, one that I have already tipped over to one direction...

"That last card of yours," Claire softly called for my attention. "I can only imagine how much her saying those things made you nervous. I was nervous."

I chuckled. "It's a poetic way to say it, huh? Eating away at your psyche and your entire sense of self."

"She doesn't have your health records, right? This isn't staged? Am I getting Punk'd?"

"No, Claire," I giggled. "Take it seriously. It's not like she knows about your divorce and how Isaac treated you."

She sighed, her shoulders falling. "That is true."

"Do you think..." I began, then stopped. I took a deep breath. "Do you think you could tell me more about Isaac? And exactly what he did?"

"Will you tell me more about your condition?" Claire returned.

A familiar gnawing sensation emerged under my sternum. "Yeah," I softly accepted. "I can."

To bare your soul is one of life's greatest struggles.

"Do you want to talk about it on our hike? Or would you rather..."

"We should probably do it in private," I grimaced.

"Let's head back then. And do the hike tomorrow, yeah?"

"Are you sure?" My voice came out as a whisper. I couldn't bring myself to speak any louder.

Claire's hand laid on my thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Head back to the cabin."

❤

I watched the milk begin to bubble in the saucepan. Claire was behind me, struggling and cursing at the woodstove. An uneasy vibe had blanketed our space and we were both just denying the inevitable.

With a sigh, I mixed in the hot cocoa mix. Once the clumps were thoroughly mixed in, I poured the chocolate goodness into 2 small thermoses and slowly inched my way to the loveseat.

Claire was lounging against the arm closest to the door, her legs slightly bent, toes tucked into the space between the cushions. I situated myself on the opposite end and handed her cocoa over. We stared at each other over the lips of our thermoses as we sipped our drinks.

"Eye for an eye?" We both asked at the same time. My anxiety dissolved slightly, allowing an awkward laugh to emerge.

Eye for an eye. The first time we had a major conversation like this, we went back and forth asking each other questions. It had become our little thing when both of us had a bad day, or we had a little spat. We took turns asking and explaining. It was one of the minute domestic characteristics I loved about us.

"Isaac," I started after clearing my throat. "What...happened with that?"

Claire groaned. "That's so broad."

"Claire," I warned.

"Isaac and his family were rich," she winced. "I mean, filthy fucking rich. His dad was a very successful defense lawyer, and Isaac was following in his footsteps."