Page 93 of Someday You Learn

“Well, it wasn’t the morning I asked her to go to rehab. It was the week after—when I got the phone call that she had checked herself out.” She nods, urging me to continue. “But this time, I actually got to see her before she skipped town.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

I run a hand over my face. “She kept saying, ‘You’re the reason I’m dead. You killed me.’”

She purses her lips. “Is that what you believe?”

The question punches me in the gut. My throat tightens as I lean forward, pinching the bridge of my nose. “I don’t want to fucking cry,” I manage, my voice hoarse.

“Why?”

My knee bounces up and down rapidly.

“Have you cried since Sasha passed away, Parker?” she presses.

When I open my eyes, the first tear slips free. “Not much, no. A little at her funeral, but then her parents started screaming at me, so I left. Then I drank until I couldn’t see straight.”

“I see.” She writes a few more notes on her paper. “So, here’s how I see it. You never grieved the woman you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with, and you blame yourself for her death. Does that sound about right?”

“Aren’t I paying you to tell me that, Dr. Jensen?”

She smirks at me. “Just answer the question, Parker.”

“Yeah. That sounds about right.”

“And how has it felt carrying around all that guilt?”

“Uh, not fucking great. Hence why I’m here, Doc.” It’s this kind of questioning that irritated me about therapy in the first place.

“And who is the one in control of carrying around the guilt, Parker?”

I tilt my head at her. “Let me guess…me?”

She chuckles. “Very good.”

“Okay, so how do I let go of it?”

She shrugs her shoulders. “There’s no magic solution, Parker. But there’s usually a moment when you realize it’s time to let it go. Until then, lean into the discomfort. Push yourself to do the things that scare you.” I look down at the floor. “I, uh…Cashlynn’s been sleeping next to me for the past week.”

Dr. Jensen’s eyebrows lift. “That’s a big step. How does it make you feel?”

“Not so alone,” I admit.

She nods, setting her notepad to the side. “Sometimes we think that isolating ourselves will prevent us from hurting, but it can actually do the opposite and leave us alone with all of the pain we are holding onto.”

I lift my eyes and find hers again. “When I’m with her, my chest feels lighter. There’s something about this woman that pulled at me from the moment I met her. But…”

“But what?”

I let out a long sigh. “It’s always so easy in the beginning of a relationship, right? Like, I never thought Sasha was an alcoholic when we first started dating. Is that because I was naïve about it and didn’t want to see it? Or can people really change on you like that?” I snap my fingers. “What if I’m blinded by Cashlynn right now and I repeat the same mistakes? What if I ignore her, don’t give her the time she deserves, or…”

“Let me stop you right there,” Dr. Jensen says. “That’s a lot of ‘what ifs.’”

“You should hear what goes on in my head most days, Doc.”

She smiles and then continues. “When you say you didn’t see who Sasha was, did she ever share her struggles with you?”

“No. She actually hid it from me.”

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