Page 80 of Breathe Again

She laughed and turned it up higher. Meeting Rhys had opened her up to taking the risk of living and loving again, and she was living the good life now. Our boisterous mood propelled us up the stairs to Willa’s place and Bex knocked out a tune on Willa’s door.

“Door’s open, chickies!” rang out from inside.

Willa’s condominium boasted exposed pipes, reclaimed brick, iron fittings, black sconces, huge, comfortable couches piled with soft cushions, and plush, bottom-hugging chairs with cuddle blankets thrown over their backs. Comfort, class, and edge. Her black crystal wine glasses were set out on the coffee table, a bottle of wine breathing beside them, her black kintsugi platter laid out with an assortment of cheese, crackers, and grapes.

The Japanese art of Kintsugi fascinated Willa, and she had several pieces both on display and for everyday use. They were pretty, but their real appeal lay in the idea behind them. I had asked her about them many times, but she was vague with her replies. I could never figure out if they were a sign of her hope or of her despair. Maybe they were both.

Willa bustled around lighting candles, finishing with the trio on the coffee table.

“It’s a therapy meeting, not an exorcism.” Bex noted drily.

“I thought we were helping Mara beat her demons,” Willa retorted, looking at Bex over her shoulder, mischief in her eyes.

I rolled my eyes. Asking Willa and Bex to put aside time for a monthly meet-up to focus on helping me with my therapy was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done. The fact that Willa made it fun, like a party, made me feel both better and worse. Guilt seemed to attach itself to me like Velcro.

“Is that wine or holy water?” Bex smirked.

“It’s communion wine. I stole it from Bea’s stash,” Willa shot back.

Their banter broke my thoughts, and I squealed, “Too far!”

We hugged Willa hello and made our way around the coffee table.

“You guys are still good with this?” I had to ask.

“Of course!” Bex exclaimed. “Honestly, I’m happy to be able to give back to you. You’ve been my rock for seven years, and you were no slouch for the years before that either.”

Bex squeezed my knee and settled on the floor, ‘closest to the food’ she joked. She twisted to the side so she could face me.

“We’re a team, Mara,” added Willa. “We stick together. We push, pull, drag, hogtie, whatever it takes, whenever it takes, isn’t that right?” She poked me. “I still think you’re into bondage and you’re just trying to shelter me.”

I laughed. “I wish!”

“Oooo, somebody’s going to have to tip Zale off about this!” Bex teased.

“Well, it won’t be me, I can assure you of that!” Willa curled up beside me on the couch and took a healthy sip of her wine, her knees tucked against my thigh.

“Okay.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Onwards and upwards, chickies!” Bex passed me my glass. “Let’s get started.”

With Willa beside me and Bex twisted toward me, her arm resting on the seat beside my thigh, I felt enclosed in their love and their care.

“So,” I began, “one of the goals for treatment is to have a vision for your future, a goal maybe, a focus for going forward living my life.”

They both nodded. “Go on, Merry.”

“I’ve never been one to stick to anything for too long.” Two sets of eyebrows snapped together but I didn’t notice as I focused on the light from the candles hitting the crystal. “I’m short on staying power. Mostly because I truly don’t know who I am, or what I’m about, so I don’t know what I really want to spend time and energy on, which means I start things and by the time I figure out what I’m doing, I’m bored and ready to move on.”

I paused and looked at Bex, who looked ready to interrupt. “I do have something positive to say, just let me get there in my own way.” I took another breath. “I’ve been listening to music, you know how much I love music, but it’s also a great therapeutic tool for me, to distract and soothe myself when there’s too much to feel, anddancing always makes me feel better. Spotify has been the absolute best thing ever. I’ve been exploring all kinds of music, and I heard this song, ‘How Do You Love’ by Shinedown? And it struck a chord in me. Can you listen to a bit of it?”

Two nods. I played the important part of it on my phone.

“Great song, sweetheart.” Bex took my hand halfway through the song. Willa, who was curled up beside me, was not directly in my field of vision.

I twisted the bracelet at my wrist. “‘Castles crumble, kingdom’s fall and turn into sand’, I’ve been so concerned with not being successful, or my success not being enough, so confused about where I should be, or what I should be doing, but in the end, all that matters, and I believe this to my bones, is how we loved. So, from now on, that’s my vision, that’s my focus.”

I finished and hoped they’d respond positively, craving that exterior validation.

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