Page 43 of If My Wishes Came True
“I don’t care how long it takes,” he says as he pulls me close. “I’m in.”
I’m sitting in Dr. Esther Adelman’s waiting room with sweaty palms and a stomachache, wondering if I’m anxious, or actually sick. I’ve never felt so nervous that I thought I might faint—but here we are. I guess this is what happens when you finally go to therapy after avoiding it for eight years. My heart is racing, and I can barely catch my breath. I wonder if this is how poor Dex felt for so many years of his life. It’s awful. My heart breaks at the thought of him suffering like this when he was a kid.
But he got help. And that’s why I’m here. That’s why I need to resist the urge to run out of this small, windowless room that feels like it’s suffocating me, and back to the comfort of my couch, where I can watch a rom-com marathon and ignore my problems, like I usually do.
Although I wouldn’t be able to get away with that, even if I tried. Vanessa drove me here, and she’s parked outside, waiting for me. She scheduled my appointment early on purpose, so she could bring me before work. She knew this would be my firsttime going to therapy, and wanted to support me.
I still don’t know what I did to deserve a friend like her. But I’ve stopped questioning it. I’m just going to lean into it, like Vanessa said, and be the best friend to her that I can be.
When the door to Dr. Adelman’s office creaks open, I practically jump out of my seat. If she noticed how startled I was, she doesn’t let on. Instead, she greets me with a nod and a warm smile that makes me breathe a little easier.
I’m still a nervous wreck, though. I spent the last ten minutes in her waiting room going over what I need to tell her, but now it’s all jumbled in my head.
“You must be Jenna,” she says, her voice gentle and kind. She’s petite, like me. Her sleek silver hair is in a loose chignon, and she’s wearing a pair of tortoiseshell frames that make me wish I needed glasses. I’m guessing she’s in her sixties, but her bohemian style gives her a youthful, artsy vibe that I’m instantly drawn to. She’s in a bright coral kimono draped over a cream-colored shell and matching pants, and has colorful mala beads around her wrists.
“Hi, Dr. Adelman,” I say as I walk toward her. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Please, call me Esther,” she replies, still smiling as she invites me into her office.
I sit on the couch and look at the paintings on the wall opposite me. They’re abstracts that remind me of the day I spent at the museum with Charlie. My heart swells, and a wave of calm washes over me as I remember why I’m here.
It’s been years since I’ve wanted someone the way I wantCharlie. And I need to see where this goes. Best of all, he feels the same way. He’s willing to wait for me to be in a better place emotionally, and I’m going to do the work to get there.
“So, Jenna,” Esther says softly, once she’s seated across from me. “Tell me what brings you here today.”
This is it. Do I dip a toe in and test the waters? Start by telling her about Grady and work my way backward? Or do I dive in head-first and talk about Hunter?
“I’m not sure where to begin,” I admit with a sheepish laugh.
She nods sympathetically. “Beginning is the hardest part. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself?”
“Sure. I can do that.” I lean back on the couch, relieved that I can start with something relatively easy.
I talk about my family, and the early years we spent in Columbus. About my dyslexia, and moving to Beachwood because the kids at my elementary school never stopped making fun of me. I explain what it was like when I started developing in middle school, and grown men twice my age would leer at me. I share stories about the boys who dated me just to see how far they could get with me. I tell her that it made me not want to give them any part of me at all. And maybe that’s what drew me to Dex. He was practically the only guy in our grade who wasn’t trying to get me in bed.
“I’m talking about Dex Oliver, by the way…the movie star. We went to school together in Beachwood,” I explain.
Esther nods, calmly. She doesn’t look at me wide-eyed or slack-jawed, which I take to mean that she either isn’t interested in celebrity gossip or, if she is, she hides it well. Either way, I feeleven more relaxed when I continue.
“Before Dex, I hadn’t gone farther with a boy than kissing. I mean, I’d been grabbed and felt up plenty of times. But Dex was the first guy Iwantedto touch me. And I think it was because everything that happened between us was initiated by me. I never had to push him off me, or slap his hands away. Because the truth is…I wasn’t the one he wanted to be with. He was in love with someone else, and somehow that made him less threatening to me.” I pause for a beat, my eyes stinging. “I guess that’s pretty messed up, huh.”
Esther shakes her head. “It’s not messed up at all. You had every reason to feel threatened by other guys. Dex was different. Not because he didn’t want you—but because he respected you. You knew you could trust him.”
“You’re right, I did. I always have. That’s why I wanted to sleep with him before college. Because I was afraid I’d never trust a man like that again. The only part I regret is telling him I loved him afterward. It wasn’t love in the romantic sense…I just loved how safe I felt with him.”
Esther moves a box of tissues toward me, and I pick it up from the coffee table and keep it next to me on the couch. I wipe my eyes. “And then I went to college and, um…”
My stomach clenches.
I close my eyes for a breath, and I see Charlie’s encouraging smile. I feel Vanessa’s arms around me. I hear Dex’s Oscar speech in my head.
Then I continue.
“I met a guy during orientation week. Hunter Reed. I was ata frat party, talking to a group of girls from my dorm, and when I looked up, my eyes met Hunter’s from across the room, and…he took my breath away. He was about a foot taller than me, and looked like he’d stepped out of an Abercrombie catalogue. He smiled, and walked over to introduce himself…and the rest was history, as they say.
“He was the sweetest guy I’d ever met, Esther. And the best part about our relationship was that he wanted to wait for marriage to have sex. Maybe that would’ve been a dealbreaker for other girls, but not me. I was thrilled, because I knew he liked me forme. And it wasn’t long before I fell head over heels in love with him.
“And Hunter loved me, too.” Tears stream down my face. “Within a few months, he started talking about marriage. I got so swept up by how romantic he was, I never paused to think that maybe things were moving too fast. I was eighteen, and he was my first love. So we started making plans to get engaged after we graduated. We talked about what kind of ring I wanted. Where we’d go on our honeymoon. We talked about the incredible sex we’d have,” I say with a little laugh through my tears.
