Tali and Tony leave for Paris. Will stay there indefinitely.
In a lamp-lit room hung a clock. The clock ticked-tocked along with evened breathes escaping the man, He looked around for any sign of life, but still continued waiting.
"Bonjour" a quick knock came on the mahogany door as it opened and shut. Tony noticed the middle-aged woman with a plain face and dull long brown hair pulled back in a low sitting pony-tail. She wore tortoise frames and kaikis with a dark red wool blazer. "Anthony. How are we today?"
It was his off-day, his daughter was in the care of some young women at a crèche. He started his new job a few months prior , then a coworker and his family, also having career roots in the American Department of Defense, became a critical part of Tony's adjustment here. During a mid-afternoon break, his new friend learnt of Tony's most recent adventure; the loss and the gain of a child. In turn, he exchanged some sound advice of making an appointment with Dr. Moreau, a local trilingual psychologist. So here he sat,staring at the doctor crossing over to a large leather arm chair with a notepad clutched in her grasp.
"Uh, bonjour." He said nervously, twiddling his thumbs. He hadn't been in the presence of a psychologist, who in fact, her sole-purpose was to analyze him, in years. He thought just by the meer response to her greeting, that the woman could dig up some luring dark creature from his youthhood.
The formalities ensued, a discussion, seeming to be like small-talk followed. Then, questions were asked as a continuance of the last session he went to. God, the prickling in his chest cavity slowly started up again.
"Tony?" the doctor beckoned his attention, "You're far away, again. Come back."
His eyes lifted back to the Moreau's kind eyes and sighed, he gulped before he opened his mouth, except no words could escape. How could he answer a question (or questions) that held that magnitude, when he couldn't even pinpoint an answer?
Is it guilt, Tony?
The question was posed and so he became still, silent, and unable to connect his mind to his mouth. She asked the question again, her french accent light, leaning forward in her seat she examines his movements, every hesitant delicate motion, "You describe her with such admiration. You loved her, you tell me-"
"I still love her." His teeth were gritted, fighting back a tear.
Her voice was monotone, eyes still trained on him. "She is gone, Anthony." She sees his eyes turn away from her and look out the window, where it is neutral ground. "I know you know she is, but you still have doubts. I can see it."
He clears his throats and slowly looks back to the doctor, emotions coursing through his blood stream, blood pressure elevated. "Is it so wrong?"
"Is it so wrong to what, Tony?"
A single water droplet slid down his cheek, "To have hope."
One layer of the onion skin has finally been pulled back. Progress.
"It is never wrong to have hope." He runs his palms over his cheeks at the conclusion of her words. "But," she says, "it is wrong when that hope becomes your downfall. If you want to have any relationship with your daughter in the future, you have to live for right now. It is hard, I know, but this is grieving. It is not forever."
"What am I supposed to do?" He shrugs his shoulders, really not knowing where to begin. "Accept it? Accept-" He stopped himself before he dug up her name along with the levity of the situation.
"This is what I want you to do." Moreau moves to put the pad down and moving her glasses to her head, "You. Must. Live. Look at what you do have. You have a new job in a brand new country, a 'fresh start', I believe is the english term, yes?" He nods. "You have lost, and it hurts and you are angry and rightfully so...but you have gained something so valuable."
"What am I supposed to do, doc? Wake up and turn off the memories and the-"
"Guilt? You think that part of what happened is your fault." It wasn't a question.
He would've been angry with the insinuation any other day, but it was time he was honest. To be honest with himself, first and foremost. All he could do was glance down to his watch then to the floral wallpaper with an evergreen background.
"Look at yourself in the mirror everyday and ask yourself who you want to be in, let's say, a year, five years, etcetera, then ask yourself what you can do today to get there."