Mason's POV:
Who's idea was a double therapy session again?
"I appreciate her support, of course I do. But..,"
"But what, Mason? This is a safe space." she smiles warmly. I fucking hate this. I really fucking hate this. Safe space my ass.
I sigh. "But I feel suffocated. I love spending my time with Amara, but this is different. She's scared to leave my side."
She looks to me, but I continue looking forward. I feel too guilty to look her in the eye. I seriously fucking hate this.
"Why do you think that is, Amara?" she shifts the conversation to her.
"Because he's not in a good place, I just want to be there." she responds quietly.
Did I mention I fucking hate this?
The therapist nods. "And what do you think will happen if you're not?"
"Nothing. I just want to show him that I love him."
I love you too, Amara. Am I wrong for saying what I said?
Another nod. "He knows you love him, unconditionally, undoubtably," she continues. I do. I really do. "What do you think would happen if you went back to work—got back into your normal routine?"
She doesn't respond.
"This isn't about Mason, Amara." the therapist sighs, tilting her head.
It's not?
"What? Of course it is. I had never seen him the way he was that night, okay? I just want to be supportive." her words are shaky, just like her hands that grip the fabric on the seat.
She shouldn't have had to see me the way she did.
"Amara," the woman presses.
"No. I think we're done for today." she says, grabbing her coat and walking out.
I follow her to the hallway, struggling to catch up to her. "Do you want me to leave you alone that badly?" she turns, her voice raised. "Do you?"
"Amara, listen,"
"No. If you want me to leave you alone that's fine, Mason, okay? It is. I can." her voice is strained and her eyes glassy.
I place my hand on her arm. "You're shaking like a leaf."
She shakes me off and walks away. I stand there tugging my fingers through my hair, what the hell has this done to her? I pace back and forth wondering whether to call, before deciding to give her space.
I drive home, reaching for my keys and turning to the right—the door is already unlocked. I step inside and look to find Amara curled up on the couch with tear stained cheeks. "I left some stuff here I have to get." she lies, and I nod.
I sit down beside her and place my hand on her leg. "Want to watch a movie?"
She nods and wipes the tears that fall. Amara, what has this done to you?
—————
Amara's POV:
I look over to see that he's fallen asleep. I slide out of the blankets that cover us and make my way to the kitchen, perching myself at the counter. I don't want to be unstable like this, I need to be stable enough to help him. He's the one struggling. I don't understand what's going on. I need to get back to work, to normal, but I can't.
I grab my keys and sneak out of the house, driving directly to my therapists office. As I arrive I find her locking up. She only opens until six today, I hadn't noticed the time. "Sorry," I shake my head.
She holds the door open and steps aside. "Come on."
I make my way inside and sit down, I can't even bring myself to look at her. "Every time I leave him alone I feel like my chest is going to explode. What's wrong with me?"
She crosses her legs and leans forward. "This isn't about Mason, Amara. It goes back further than that."
Her voice is so calm and collected, she has total faith in her words—I just wish I was in that position.
"Why do you keep saying that? What do you mean?"
"You still blame yourself for Carol's death, don't you?" she utters.
My head snaps up and my eyes almost instantly begin to sting. That was the last thing I expected her to say. "There was nothing I could have done to help Carol."
"But you were supposed to be there with her, in delivery—weren't you?"
I pause. "Yes."
"And you weren't there. And she died."
"Yes," I start to cry.
"And somewhere, Amara, in your subconscious mind you're scared that if you leave Mason, you won't be there to save him. The way you weren't there to save Carol."
The tears begin to stream down my face, as it begins to makes vague sense in my mind. "You have to forgive yourself, Amara," she tells me. "Even if you were there, there was nothing you could have done. She had the best medical professionals around, they did everything they could. Carol knew there was a high chance she wasn't going to make it through the birth."
"But I should've been there!" I cry. "I should've been there for her to say goodbye and to hold her hand! She wanted me there, she called me."
My voice breaks and I clutch my chest. "She called me again and again and I wasn't there, and she died."
"It isn't the same situation, Amara. This isn't Carol. Mason isn't going to die."
"He thought about it," I whimper. "He thought about it, and even if it was just for a split second he thought about it. I can't breathe when I know that he thought about it."
"You forget that you thought about it once too, Amara. But you're here. Mason was fighting PTSD, the overwhelming urge to push the people closest to him away—and the burden of not remembering a traumatic chunk of his life. He was at his lowest point, and you were there. You were there this time. You held his hand. You done exactly what you would have for Carol years ago," she explains, her features soft and understanding. "Only the outcome wouldn't have been the same. Carol would still have died. You aren't a miracle worker, Amara, and it wasn't your fault."
I wipe my eyes and catch my breath a little. "I thought I let go of it. I guess I hadn't."
"Grief, guilt, it has a funny way of sinking it's teeth into you and not letting go. But you have to. You have to let it go," she reaches out, taking my hand. "Say it, that it wasn't your fault."
"It wasn't my fault." I cry
"—Again."
"It wasn't my fault." I repeat, my chest heavy.
"—Again."
"It wasn't my fault."
"It wasn't my fault."
"It wasn't my fault."
This time it sounded slightly different. Like it wasn't a total lie. Like Carol was here, telling me.
"There was nothing I could have done." I say, letting out a deep breath.
"No, there wasn't. You can help Mason, Amara—but he needs his space too. Space to heal," she continues. "You're so used to having to be there to prevent catastrophe. You felt you had to be there for your mother, to stop her from relapsing. If you weren't, everything would fall apart. But that wasn't fair, Amara. Then you felt that you had to be there to save Carol, despite it being irrational. You had the world on your shoulders from a young age and you carry that responsibility with you even now. It's time to start letting that go."
The connections she draws from parts of my life that I wouldn't have even seen as relevant amazes me, and better, it makes sense.
"People give trauma such a watered down, almost comical meaning now. It's something that gets brushed off way too easily," she explains carefully. "There is a struggle to understand that traumatic events, toxic routines, no matter how long ago affect you forever. It isn't just a scary, sad memory. It's something that rewires your brain and fights against your rational thoughts. It changes the way you make decisions, the way you create relationships, the way you enter into any challenge in your life for a long time. There is no healing period, you can move on and you can get past it but it is a part of you—a part that makes you stronger once you learn to cope healthily. But it is never gone, it is a part of you."
"Thank you for letting me in." I smile, drying my eyes.
"You've been through so much in your short lifetime, Amara. I've watched you grow. Its okay to take a step backwards sometimes, because it always leads to two steps forward."
As I leave, I drive around for a while taking in what I learned. A weight has been lifted from my chest. I feel like I've went from one end of the scale to the other—from feeling like I couldn't cope to understanding everything.
I decide to swing by Mason's place to speak to him before heading home. Giving him space. My mind is reeling and my head hurts from the tears, but I feel so much lighter than I did before. Like I understand a piece of myself that I didn't previously.
I walk inside and find him awake, sitting on a stool at the counter. "There you are, I was worried."
"Sorry, I left my phone," I say, placing my keys down beside him.
"I know," he sighs, motioning to the phone on the counter. He wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me to stand between his legs.
"Have you been crying?" his eyes grow concerned.
I wrap my arms around his neck and smile. "I went back to therapy," I begin, watching as he raises his brow. "I'm sorry for driving you crazy."
"You always drive me crazy." he jokes, making me kick him playfully.
"It was about Carol," I say, his eyes softening. "I still had guilt over her death, I carried it into our relationship. I was just so scared of losing you."
He pulls me onto his lap and kisses my cheek. "Carol would never blame you for not being there. Never."
"I know," I nod. "It's just not easy for me to let go. But, I had a breakthrough. And I promise I won't be overbearing anymore. I'm working on it."
He smiles. "I'm glad you figured things out."
"Me too."
My phone buzzes, and I let out an involuntary sigh as I read the notification.
"What?" he asks.
"Its Jake texting about the friends dinner, Elijah is going." I tell him. "And we're both invited."
I watch his eyes widen.
"Yup."
"I can't go, you know that wouldn't be fair." he shrugs.
"I know. I'm not going either."
"What?" he furrows his brow. "No, you go. They're your friends, and you and Elijah getting back to civil terms will be good for everyone."
"You've gotten so mature, it blows my mind." I grin, kissing him on the nose.
"Thanks... I think?" he raises his brow, making me laugh.
"Okay, I'll go."
He grabs my hand pulling me back as I stand up to leave. "So... just because you're done being all crazy doesn't mean you shouldn't sleep here tonight—right?"
I push his shoulder, rolling my eyes. "What happened to space?"
"Well I'm working tomorrow, that's enough space." he shrugs
"I'm going back tomorrow too." I say, earning a smile and a kiss on the nose.
"Good. I'm proud of you."
—————
I meet Jake outside our usual restaurant,
twenty minutes late thanks to my last minute decision to show up.
"You look like you're about to walk into a lions den, relax." he jokes, pulling me in for a hug as we walk.
"I'll try." I laugh.
Everyone gets out of their seats as I walk in, each of their faces lighting up. It warms my heart having such an amazing group of people by my side. I hug them one by one, with Matt jumping the queue as though I don't see him more than I see my own reflection. Jess and Becca hug me simultaneously and almost knock me off my feet, gaining my balance as I make eye contact with the one person left.
He shoots me a smile and a nod, which I return awkwardly. "Nice to see you." he greets.
"You too."
I take my seat, with Matt placing his hand on my thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Alright, what's the big news?" Becca throws her hands up.
I furrow my brow. "Big news?"
"Jess has been tapping her foot under the table since she got here. She's dying to say something." she chuckles, everyone's eyes landing on her.
"Alright, alright," she gives in, sitting up excitedly in her seat. "I'm moving back here."
"What?" I gasp, everyone's smiles growing. "That's amazing! What about your job?"
"I can transfer nearer here now, I'll be a ten minute commute!"
I hurry over to give her another hug, kissing her head. "Mwah! We'll be able to see you so much more."
"Lucky you." she smirks.
We spend almost an hour just talking. We manage to make it through the meal without too much awkward tension, although Elijah and I don't speak directly to one another throughout the dinner. Well, most of the dinner.
"So, Mason couldn't make it?" Elijah cocks his head.
"Uh, yeah. He was working late." I say, trying to avoid any further tension.
It falls quiet.
"Mason the working man." Matt jokes, which falls flat.
"He doesn't have to stay away because of me." Elijah adds, a look of sincerity on his face.
Everyone stays silent, Matt clearing his throat. "He's just giving it some time." I smile.
He nods. Deep down I think he wanted Mason to come. Maybe just to see what he's like now, out of curiosity.
"Well personally I've been dreaming about the chocolate fudge cake since I woke up this morning, so let's get dessert." Jess says lightheartedly.
As I'm walking to my car, I hear a voice from behind me. It makes my heart sink a little, and I consider pretending I simply didn't hear it. Until it gets closer.
"Amara,"
I turn with a smile. "Hey."
"Our friendship is basically unredeemable," he begins. I take in a sharp breath. "To the way it was, I mean. We aren't every going to get back to that. I'm still hurting, and the two people I want to talk to about it, I can't. Because one of them doesn't love me back, and the other is in love with you."
"Elijah," I sigh.
"We can handle friends dinners. Bring him next time." he adds, giving me a small smile before walking away.
By the time I get back to Mason's, he's already asleep. I take off my clothes and throw on one of Mason's shirts, climbing into bed and snaking myself under his arm.
He tightens his grip and pulls me closer. "How was dinner?" he mumbles tiredly.
"It was fine." I say, cuddling into his chest.
I don't think the guilt will ever leave.
"Sorry again for being a temporary bunny boiler," I whisper, earning a laugh from him.
"Happens to the best of us."