Page 63 of The Last Session

“What happened?” Moon asked.

“Don’t make me do this,” she whispered, wrenching away a hand to press it to her eyes.

“Come on, Mikki, you’re almost there.” Moon was so close their foreheads were almost touching. Due to the acoustics of the space, we could hear every quiet word.

“Tell me,” Moon cooed.

Mikki sniffed and straightened, wiping at her face. She stared at the floor. Moon handed her a fresh tissue from her pocket, but she just held it.

“She brought me back to their suite.” Mikki’s voice shifted into a monotone. “A part of her must’ve known.”

“Known what?”

“That we were attracted to each other.” Her voice was suddenly stronger. “She wanted me to have one last glass of champagne with them. We were so drunk, though… She passed out on the couch, like, immediately. And I crashed in the bed. He climbed in next to me. Told me I was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. How he’d fantasized about me.” Her eyes squeezed shut. “It wasn’t just that he was off-limits. Maybe a part of me wanted to ruin this thing she had that I didn’t. I don’t know.” She shrugged. “It happened and I left. He must’ve told her something—maybe that I hit on him. She avoided me at breakfast, stopped answering my texts. And that was it. They’re still together, months later.”

A bird cawed suddenly, right outside the tent.

Moon got to her knees and pulled Mikki to her. “You’re going to be okay.”

Mikki murmured something back that I couldn’t hear.

“No, you will,” Moon responded. “There’s a reason this is happening. Why you’re doing these things. We’re going to help you get to the bottom of it. It won’t be solved this second, but it’s going to happen. Do you believe me?”

After a second, Mikki dipped her head in a nod.

Moon leaned back to look at Sol. He held up the prayer bells.Ding.

“Everyone, you can head to the veranda for lunch.” Moon looked up over Mikki’s head like a distracted parent. “Good sessions this morning. Nice work.”

27

“Man,” Ramit said softly as we walked away from the yoga tent. “That was intense.”

“Poor thing.” Karen crossed her arms.

“I wouldn’t call her that.” Dawne flipped her long ponytail over her shoulder.

I glanced at her in surprise.

“Don’t judge, hon.” Karen shook her head. “All of us have done stuff we’re not proud of.”

I remained silent, conflicting thoughts swirling through my mind. On one hand, it seemed dangerous for two nonprofessionals to force people to talk about difficult and sometimes traumatic moments in front of a group of strangers.

At the same time, Moon did have a point:Fuck your therapist. We got there in… what, five minutes?

But that was because she’d pushed. Therapists let clients get to those deep, painful places in their own time. What would it do to rip off the Band-Aid—no, the tourniquet—like that?

Was that what had happened to Catherine? Had the work retraumatized her, caused her brain to become overwhelmed, shut it down?

Ramit and Karen went to the veranda while Dawne and I walked on to the bathrooms.

“I’ve been cheated on a few times.” Dawne stared straight ahead. “So that was kind of triggering to hear.”

“I get that. I’m sorry.”

“And my mom’s boyfriends…” She blew out her breath. “It’s just caused so much pain in my life. I don’t know how Mikki could live with herself.”

“I think that’s why she’s here,” I said. “To change it.”

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