"Tell me about your past," The Therapist taps his fingers on the dull clipboard resting on his lap with one leg crossed over the other, awaiting a response from the new client sitting anxiously in front of him. Her blonde hair is tied up in a messy bun and her baby blue eyes are filled with regret and sadness; even a hint of self-loathing leaking through. Her foot taps on the carpeted floor nervously, afraid to open her mouth in fear of her voice cracking or plain bursting out into tears. After a few long, silent moments only filled by the tapping of a shoe on carpet and a pen on a clipboard, she finally musters up the courage to speak.
"Well, my name is Cosette. Cosette Fauchelevent- Valjean- Pontmercy. It's confusing, I'm sorry," Cosette apologizes, her speaking wavering and seeming quite rushed.
"It's okay, take your time. I'm not rushing you. One step at a time," He dismisses her with a warm, reassuring smile and a wave of his free hand.
"Okay, well—" She tries to think of the right way to word everything. So much has happened in her life, it would take hours for her to explain from the earliest memory. "Soon, I am getting married to a man named Marius Pontmercy. I'm taking his last name—though, right now, I am still Cosette Valjean." She takes a second to admire the engagement ring on her finger, a small smile appearing on her features before dropping again, her gaze fixing at her feet; not able to look the man in front of her in the eye as she explains all of this.
"Congratulations," The Therapist congratulates her on the engagement and the soon to be wedding, and she mutters a "Thank you," In response.
"Also, recently-" Cosette suddenly gets choked up, her eyes welling up with tears; glistening in the dim light of the room, "Recently, my father had killed himself." She has to pause for a moment to stop herself from crying, one of her hands going to cover her mouth and wipe away a few stray tears that found their way down her flushed cheeks. "He jumped off the bridge near our house. Papa and I didn't expect it. It was all so…sudden and overwhelming, he barely showed any signs of depression, nothing…he just…killed himself without a word. No note, no message left for us. He's gone. Gone forever, and I don't know why," Cosette can't stop the tears from trailing down her cheeks now, and she hides her face in her hands; sobbing quietly. The ends of her light tan sweater mop up the tears; a strand of her mussed up hair falling out of her bun and over her face. The Therapist leans forward to pat her on the shoulder, and he feels her flinch but not pull back; allowing him to comfort her.
"It's okay, let it out," He speaks softly, not offended or annoyed by her crying. He's used to clients letting out their sadness and crying into their hands, but he tries to comfort them that best he can if they allow him to, and Cosette doesn't lash out or protest as he gently rubs her shoulder. "Take your time," He repeats, wanting for her to calm down, though he doesn't want to rush her on her explanations.
"I—" Cosette stutters for a moment, trying to find words," I—I miss him. So much," She slides her hands down her face, her eyes pink from crying and glistening with tears; cheeks flushed. She looks broken, upset—hopeless. "I wish I had him back. Or if I had stopped him, if I only knew. Maybe I was a bad daughter, it was something I did, maybe—"
"Shh," He stops her rushed talking, sounding more panicked and panicked by the minute. She's on the verge of breaking down entirely, and she doesn't want that to happen again. When it first happened, at the crime scene when she saw her father's body being pulled out of the water.
Cosette arrives at the scene by the bridge, and there's cops and EMTs everywhere, crowded around the riverside. Valjean had driven over right away when he heard that Javert was found. They had no other information than that, just knowing that he had been found, not if he was alive or dead or on the verge of death, even.
"Papa, Papa—" Cosette pulls on Valjean's sleeve and suddenly she catches a glimpse of a man on a stretcher near the ambulance on the street. A man with a soaked police uniform, short graying hair and a trimmed beard to match, his expression contorted permanently into a look of self-hatred and anger. But even so, he looks peaceful in his everlasting sleep. "Oh my god." Cosette whispers to herself, tears welling up in her eyes. Valjean follows her gaze and sees what his daughter is reacting too, and he is unable to form words as he sees Javert laid out on a stretcher, soaking wet and his form frozen; his chest not rising with the intake and outtake of breath, his eyes not opening, none of his limbs even twitching in the least.
It takes Cosette a few moments to tear her eyes away from the shocking sight, and she turns around only to bury her face in her Papa's shoulder, letting out a muffled sob that wracks her whole body. Valjean holds her close, one of his hands rubbing her back gently as he shushes her.
"Shhh, it's okay, it's okay," He reassures her, though his voice cracks as he loses it and lets out a sob of his own, hugging Cosette tight. Their hearts feel like they've broken into millions of pieces, shocked and overwhelmed with this discovery. A man was so very special in both of their lives alive no more, and they don't have any idea why he did something such as this.
After a few long minutes, Cosette can finally form words, though silent sobs still wrack her body now and then. She has so many things to discuss, so many things to speak about and reveal to this man who is new to her. She's a bit apprehensive to open up to him, but she understands that he's meant for this. Meant to open up to, to help with problems and traumatic events, troubled lives.
"How do you feel?" He asked, pulling back and sitting back in his chair again. Cosette slumps down slightly on the plush couch and has a spacey look on her features, but she looks broken.
"Terrible," She says bluntly, her gaze flicking up to him before it's back on the floor again. She still can't look him in the eye.
"It's hard to go through something such as this. This has happened to a few of my other clients, who have lost their parents either to regular death, a disease, or suicide," He explained, sounding professional yet comforting at the same time.
"My mother—she—she died when I was small," Cosette suddenly spoke up," She died of cancer. I remember having the most beautiful flowing hair, and as time went on, she lost it and had no hair at all. She looked so sickly, so pale…and she was put into a hospital when it got so terrible. I didn't know what was going on, I was only a little girl," She paused, sucking in a breath," I don't remember much, but I remember an orphanage and moving from foster home to foster home after my mother had died. I switched so frequently, it got so—tiring, so confusing for me."
"What do you remember from these homes that you were taken into?" The Therapist asked, raising an eyebrow and listening attentively.
"I remember one family was very nice to me. There was a mother and father, and a brother and a sister. The brother and sister were a bit rude to me, but after a while they were kind. But even so, I was taken from that house also and brought to another one. Oh god, I remember one house in particular. The Thenardiers. They had other children, I remember. They treated them like they were angels, but then there was me…they made me clean, do chores all the time. They would barely feed me and force me to sleep on the wooden floor in the living room every night," She hated remembering all of this, all of the memories rushing back into her mind all at once. It was quite overwhelming, but she kept on rambling, spilling out what she remembered and how she felt about it.
"When I left that family, I was so scared to go to another house because of how badly I was treated," Cosette continued," The social worker had come to pick me up, and of course the Thenardiers held me and said they treated me well and loved me, didn't want me to leave. But in the end, I was taken to my new house which was Papa and Dad. It was a new thing to me, having two fathers. I was confused at first, but as I got older I understood more and I came to love them very much, even though Dad could be strict sometimes," She chuckled, though it had an upsetting ring to it instead of a light and cheery one.
"They raised me like they were one of their own, accepting me completely and treating me so kindly with open arms. Papa even bought me a doll my first day there, and I treasure it even now even though it's all worn out and used. They taught me everything when they raised me. I love them so much," Cosette had a sad smile on her features, recalling from when she first was taken in and adopted permanently by Javert and Valjean.
"These are your new parents, Cosette. Say hello," The Social Worker motioned to Valjean and Javert standing in front of her, but Cosette just scrambled behind the social worker and grabbed onto her skirt; peering from behind her to the two men. "Go on, they don't bite." The woman joked, nudging the small blonde girl forwards, who stumbled a bit and stared at the two men with wide eyes.
"Cosette, is it?" Valjean flashed a warm, trustworthy smile at Cosette, Javert having a small smile on his lips also. She nodded. "I'm Valjean, and this is Javert," He introduced them, the bearded man next to him waving down to her. "We're going to be your parents, you're going to stay with us from now on, okay?" He spoke softly, not wanting to spook her, scare her, or come off as a rude parent.
Cosette stayed in her spot for a moment before stepping forward and standing in front of the her two new fathers, a bit confused at the moment. She was only a eight year old girl, she didn't understand why there wasn't a mother around. She was also a bit overwhelmed because she never had a true father in her life yet, no one to call a dad of her own. But now she had two of them, and the information to the young girl was a bit overwhelming.
"I'm have to go now, but thank you, Mr. and well, Mr. Valjean. I can already see that you two are going to be amazing fathers," The social worker complimented, bowing slightly.
"Thank you, we're going to treat her just like our own," Valjean laughed, patting Cosette on the head. The young girl flinched slightly, used to being hit in the Thenardier house and beaten, not used to a gentle touch in a long while. After that, they had said their goodbyes and brought Cosette into the house. It was an average house, neat and organized. It was a change from the mess of a house the Thenardiers' owned, cluttered with trash and god knows what.
"Ah, we have something for you, Cosette. We bought you a gift!" Valjean jogged off to the adjacent room and walked in with something behind his back. "Ready?" He asked, and Cosette nodded eagerly, wondering what her new father could have bought her. "Here you go, just for you," He held an elegant doll up to her, which she took from him and stared at, examining. It had flowing strawberry blonde hair, wide, baby blue eyes and was wearing an elegant maroon dress and a creamy white bonnet on her small head. On the doll's feet were small black shoes over white socks that went up to the knee, and there was small black and maroon bows here and there over cute outfit.
She held the doll close to her chest, and shyly muttered a "thank you," quietly, a small smile on her petit, pale face. She wasn't used to receiving gifts. She was used to watching the other kids get gifts in the Thenardier's household, though. They received elegant gifts such as the dolls Cosette was holding at the moment, even painting kits, plastic kitchen sets and even had a tree house in the backyard to play in. It was like heaven for them, and the young blonde girl had to sit back and watch as they played.
"They sound like amazing parents," The Therapist commented," They seemed very accepting and kind. How did they treat you in your older years as you aged?" He asked, writing something down on the clipboard in front of him. Cosette found herself wondering what he was writing, but didn't want to ask and be rude or intrude on what he was writing. It was about her, she knew that was for sure. Half the paper was taken up already, for he had been writing all the time she was rambling about her past.
"They are," Cosette sounded cheery for a moment," Through the years, they treated me very well. It was a bit hard for them at times, because, well, they didn't know how to handle mood swings and girl problems with me," She laughed, remembering a particular event where they gave her the talk and she had asked a question that caused Javert to leave the room and Valjean to sit there awkwardly and try to explain everything to her. "Dad could be strict, sometimes, only because he was worried about me. He was very protective of me when I started dating Marius, but Papa was entirely accepting and supportive of our relationship. I remember Papa and Dad would argue over my relationship with him. Papa would say he had a kind heart and only good intentions, and Javert thought of him suspicious and hiding something. But Marius would never hide anything, he was very open with everything and was a great boyfriend, and when we he proposed to me, both of my fathers were so happy for me, though I knew that Dad was a bit worried."
"Me and Marius have been engaged for a year. The wedding is in a few weeks. I'm so excited, but…it's not going to be the same without Dad. He was there for me all the time and praised me with my accomplishments. Now, he's not here and he won't see my marriage, won't live to see my life start. And he will never grow old with Papa," Cosette kept her gaze fixed on the ground, her eyes misty and shiny. A fear tears escaped her, but she wiped them with her sweater before they fell off of her chin.
"It's hard going through the death of a parent. Especially from suicide. Remember the good times. There was many pleasant times with your Dad, yes?" The Therapist asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, there was many! Like I said, he could be strict, but it was only because he cared about me. I remember all the trips Papa and Dad took me on when I was little, even when I was a teenager. They took me to the zoo, museums, so many places! I loved traveling with them. We went on vacation to Disney once, also. That was so much fun, I would love go to again with Papa," Cosette had a happy tint to her voice remembering these certain moments and trips with her fathers. They were always so eventful and happy, and when they were in an amusement park or zoo, they didn't have a care in the world and just enjoyed family bonding. Eating ice cream, sitting on a bench and gazing at the animals around them. She wished those times were there again, she wished she could at least live them over again.
"Well, we don't have much time left—would you like to bring in your father for a few minutes?" The Therapist asked, finishing up a sentence he was writing. Cosette could see that the paper was filled up and he was now on the back, finished up with the front of the page. She thought for a moment. Her Papa was probably out there still reading, like he was when she went into the dimmer room. After a few moments of thinking, she nodded. After that, the man got up and opened the door, calling out," Mr. Valjean, come on in for a moment."
With that, Cosette saw Valjean come into the room, bags under his eyes and his gray streaked hair mussed up, he had a bit of a bed head. His eyes looked more sunken and dull, the creases around his eyes and mouth more prominent with age. His hair had much more gray appearing and it was longer, for the man didn't care about his appearance now. It didn't matter anymore. The corners of his mouth were turned down into a sullen frown, stubble on his chin which only added to the downtrodden appearance and aura around him. He sat down next to Cosette, her feeling the sofa sink beside her. The Therapist closed the door and sat back down in his chair the way he was before, looking back and forth at Valjean and Cosette. Both of them looked so broken, so hopeless. It was a saddening sight, he had to admit. And he's seen many people such as this over the years.
"Hello, Mr. Valjean. You're Cosette's father, correct?" The Therapist asked, and Valjean looked up and nodded. It was obvious he was, but the man just wanted to make sure.
"She is just like my own daughter to me. I love her just like one, also. We accepted her as our own," Valjean's expression appeared distressed, his hands folded on his lab as he fidgeted with the end of his coat sleeves. Cosette smiled when she heard these words, and Valjean had returned a sullen smile back to her, though it had a hint of praise and fondness in it. "I'm sure you've heard of the most—recent events from her."
"Yes, I have," The man nodded, writing something down on that paper again," I'm so sorry for your loss. He seemed like such a great man." These words hit a nerve in Valjean, and he winced, but he nodded and blinked back tears that threatened to fall over his pale cheeks.
"Yes, he was an admirable man, a very admirable man," Valjean chuckled," He was a great husband, I would have never asked for anyone else other than him. He could be stubborn and bring up some old topics from the past at the most inappropriate of moments, but he was an amazing husband. And an outstanding father, on top of that. He could be strict, but he only was because of loved you, Cosette," He glanced in her direction. Her gaze was on the floor, she couldn't bear to look at her ragged and ruddy father, his appearance just screaming distressed and upset.
Valjean had so much to speak of. But he couldn't say it all in front of Cosette. He couldn't speak of the days in prison, the tension and fights in the beginning of his and Javert's relationship. He couldn't say how Javert was the cop that arrested him first and brought him to jail, and eventually to prison. She couldn't know, it would only break her heart even more to know that all of this information was being held back from her, kept hidden away for all the years she was in their care. So he kept his mouth shut and didn't say any of this, even though it was all bottled up inside of him and he felt like he was going to explode. He had to keep himself composed, he didn't want to break his daughter's heart.
"Did your husband show any signs of depression before he committed suicide?" The Therapist was straight forward. He would be more vague with the topic, but there was no way he could. He had to be blunt, but the way he spoke was in such a soft and understanding tone. It was warm and inviting, making it easy for Valjean to open up to this stranger.
"He was acting as he always did. But he seemed more stubborn before…well, you know. He was more quiet, but other than that, nothing was off about him. He never spoke to me about anything. I don't even know why he did it. He left no note, nothing. And I feel like a terrible husband for not knowing this. I should have known that he was upset, I should have stopped him. But no, I can't now. I would go back in time, maybe if I was a better husband, a better spouse to him. Maybe if I treated him better he wouldn't have killed himself. It's all my fault," Valjean rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms before his gaze dropped to the floor.
"You were so kind to Father, Papa. You were an amazing husband to him. You two were oh so happy together, and you two were such amazing parents! I felt, and still do feel so loved. You saved me from that house, you saved me from the abuse and beatings. You welcomed me with open arms. You and Dad were so lovey together, and even if it was a bit embarrassing, I could tell you two loved each other very, very much," Cosette looked over at her father, her eyes filled with sympathy and care. She hugged her father tightly, and he returned the hug. She rested her chin on his shoulder and they shared a moment in silence, just comforting each other. The Therapist didn't interfere, giving them their moment. The silence wasn't awkward, it was understanding and comforting, yet so upsetting and depressing at the same time. After they pulled apart, they smiled at each other. It was a touching moment between father and daughter, and this is when the therapist chose to speak up.
"We have to close this session, but the next one will be next week on Tuesday, also. Same time, 6:30. Thank you for opening up so much today, Cosette. Same with you, Mr. Valjean. It means so much, and call me in between the next appointment if you need anything," The man stood up, making his way over to the door. Valjean ended up paying the man seventy dollars for his services and they said their goodbyes; Valjean and Cosette walking outside into the chilly evening air back to the car. Cosette pulled her sleeves down on her sweater, shivering from the cold breeze; Valjean pulling his coat tighter around him. They got into the car quietly, and the ride home was made with very few words switched between the two. Cosette listened to music and ended up falling asleep on the door resting on her hand, and Valjean's mind was filled with memories and overwhelming thoughts; despair, regret, self-loathing and anger towards himself.
They both had a feeling that the next therapy session was going to be a long one, such as the one today.