And all of the steps that led me to you

And all of the hell I had to walk through

But I wouldn't trade a day for the chance to say

My love, I'm in love with you

And I know the scariest part is letting go

'Cause love is a ghost you can't control

I promise you the truth can't hurt us now

So let the words slip out of your mouth

I know that we're both afraid

We both made the same mistakes

An open heart is an open wound to you

And in the wind of heavy choice

Love is a quiet voice

Still you're mine and I'm yours to choose

"the words", Christina Perri

December 24, 2020

He puts on a brave face, but the truth is that walking into Dr. Akopian's office may be the only thing scarier than walking into his own first therapy appointment months ago. Nathaniel's still new to this whole thing – therapy, mental health, all of it – and he's nervous about her doctor's reaction.

When he made the suggestion to come along, he didn't quite think through all the ramifications. Rebecca had said she's never brought someone to an appointment like this, that it doesn't normally work this way. All he knew is that she needed help – they needed help – if they were going to make it through the rest of this fraught day.

When they walk into the office, Rebecca leads him by the hand, practically dragging him inside. Dr. Akopian's eyes go wide when she clocks Nathaniel in tow, and she quickly rises from her chair and says, "Rebecca," as a half-greeting half-question. Her eyes run over Rebecca from head-to-toe, starting with her hair in a messy ponytail, mascara stains under her eyes. Then they travel over the tacky Christmas sweater and settle on her left hand where the ostentatious engagement ring is still stuck firmly on her finger.

For a few uncomfortable seconds she looks from the ring to Nathaniel several times like she's at a riveting tennis match and mutters, "Oh no. Oh no, not again."

"No, no," Rebecca says, letting go of Nathaniel's hand, "this is not what it looks like. I'm not – we're not –"

"Regardless of whatever is going on here, you can't just bring people into our sessions without consulting me. We've been over this many times. I am not a couples counselor, nor do I wish to be."

"Please," Rebecca pleads, grabbing Dr. Akopian's hand in both of hers, "I promise this is a one-time thing." She holds up her pointer finger. "One time. It's an emergency."

Dr. Akopian throws Nathaniel a skeptical look and he responds with an apologetic shrug.

"As long as you promise not to get engaged in my office again –"

"Thank you thank you thank you," Rebecca says, bouncing up and down on her heels.

With a huff, Dr. Akopian sits in her armchair and Rebecca hops over to the couch in the seat closest to Dr. Akopian. Nathaniel follows.

"Last appointment before Christmas," Dr. Akopian mutters under her breath.

Already Nathaniel feels a twinge of regret.

"What's that?" asks Rebecca.

"Nothing. So what's the emergency?"

Rebecca furtively glances at Nathaniel as she's perched at the edge of the couch cushion, anxious energy radiating from her body.

She takes a deep breath and then it all comes barreling out.

"It all started this morning when I went to Open Mike's to beg Mike for forgiveness and convince him to let me come back. He said no and, by the way, was very rude about it and told me my music was crap. Then I went to brunch with the girls, and Valencia helpfully reminded me about how Nathaniel cheated on his girlfriend – as if I didn't know – and asked why I think he wouldn't cheat on me too. So I stormed out and, as I was leaving, I saw Nathaniel driving in the opposite direction of where he said he was going. So I followed him."

At this point she pauses and sheepishly glances at Dr. Akopian with a wince. This was the tipping point when everything started to spin out-of-control. Dr. Akopian shifts in her seat and raises a judgmental eyebrow.

"Yes, I know, I know. You don't have to say anything. So anyway, I followed him to this shifty parking lot where he was hugging this beautiful tall woman with flowing blonde hair. And, of course, I assumed he was cheating –"

"Of course?" Nathaniel repeats.

Without even glancing his way, she finishes the story in a whoosh, barely even pausing to take a breath. "So I broke into his apartment. Thought about burning it down but decided against it. Instead, I broke into his safe and stole this giant rock of an engagement ring and put it on. But then it wouldn't come off and Nathaniel came home and caught me and, as it turns out, the modelesque woman is actually his sister, not his lover, and now we're here."

After a beat, Dr. Akopian says, "Wow."

Hearing it all strung together is a bit overwhelming and Nathaniel can't help the stunned expression on his face.

He wonders how many stories like this she's heard from Rebecca before. For the first time he realizes how much Rebecca has probably divulged about their relationship, both past and present.

"Yeah," Rebecca says, "it's bad. I know."

She quickly looks down at her hands, becoming self-conscious. Softer, she says, "The thing I was most afraid of happening happened."

"What's that?" Dr. Akopian prods, though her tone of voice suggests she already knows the answer.

Rebecca swallows. "I saw him with another woman and I felt abandoned and I backslid. I did bad things, things a person should not do to someone they care about." Her voice turns meeker, sadder, "This is what I always feared. This is why I've avoided romantic relationships for so long. I've been trying so hard to handle this the right way and I've already managed to screw it up."

"I think the fact that he's here means you haven't screwed anything up," Dr. Akopian says, "but I don't think that's what you were afraid of."

"What do you mean?"

Dr. Akopian pauses and glances at Nathaniel, as if sizing up whether he's ready to hear her next sentence, "You said you were afraid of going to a place where you could hurt yourself. Did you go to that place? Did you have those thoughts?"

Rebecca vehemently shakes her head. "No, no, but . . ." she starts, but doesn't finish her thought.

"When was the last time you worked on your music?"

Rebecca sighs and crosses her arms. It's a sigh that says Stop asking me the same question over and over.

"Your homework from last session was to sit at your keyboard for five minutes. Only five minutes. Did you do that?"

Rebecca sighs again, more exaggerated this time. "No. No, I didn't."

Hearing the exchange gives Nathaniel a sense of validation. He's been worried about the same thing. He knew it was more significant than she was letting on, but he was hesitant to point it out. He got her kicked out of Open Mike's in the first place. In a way, it's his fault.

"I've, um, I've been concerned about that too," Nathaniel says tentatively.

Dr. Akopian nods at Nathaniel, and Rebecca rolls her eyes like a teenage girl listening to a lecture from her parents.

"Let's go back to what made you feel abandoned today. It sounds like Valencia's comment may have triggered some insecurities about the relationship. Earlier you said the possibility of him cheating was a logical conclusion to draw."

"Well, can you blame me?" Rebecca replies with a forced laugh. "I mean, we were bumping uglies in a supply closet for close to a year while he was off –"

Nathaniel exhales sharply through his nose and stiffens.

Dr. Akopian interjects, "So you're in a relationship with someone you expect to be unfaithful?"

For a tense moment, Rebecca bites her lower lip and stares at the floor. Dr. Akopian has hit on something profound, perhaps something she hadn't thought before.

Part of him wants to get up and walk right out the door. Why should he have to stand this interrogation when he has done nothing wrong? The moment Mona caught him in his lies and rightfully called him out for it, he vowed never ever to cheat again. It was a pivotal moment in his life and he hasn't so much as thought of committing the same indiscretion again. To him, there is a clear line between Old Nathaniel and New Nathaniel. Rebecca must not have the same confidence in him.

Finally she says, "I don't know. I don't know what to say."

His stomach twists in knots. He can't stop himself from saying, "I can't believe you think that about me. After everything we've been through."

"You only stopped when I ended it," she says softly.

His hand curls into a fist so tight that his blunt nails start to create indentations in his palm.

Noticing this micro movement, Dr. Akopian asks, "How does it make you feel hearing that, Nathaniel?"

"Horrible," he says immediately, his voice coming out a little louder than he intended.

Rebecca is still averting her eyes, and he can see her pain in every tense muscle of her body. None of this is meant to be accusatory or malicious, he realizes. She's simply insecure.

He sighs and runs his hand over his face. "I can't . . . how am I supposed to prove it to her?"

"Speak to her."

Nathaniel turns toward Rebecca and reaches for the hand in her lap. When his fingers graze her hand, she softens and mirrors his body posture. She raises her eyes to meet his gaze and all he sees is someone who's scared. Her vulnerability disarms him.

"I can't change what I did. Nothing I do now can change the past. But I can promise you: I don't want to do something like that ever again. I've told you that before and I meant it. I still mean it."

Rebecca nods and turns her palm up so he can properly hold her hand.

He continues, "I know now that this doesn't make it right, but I did it because I wanted to be with you. It was always you. It was never just sex to me. Never."

He's not sure if it makes what he did better or worse, but it's the truth.

"I wish there was a way I could prove it to you."

"Just spitballing here, but you could start by not lying to me," she counters with a small smile that says she's serious but is also able to bring some levity to the conversation.

"That's fair," he admits with a hesitant laugh, squeezing her hand.

"Why didn't you tell her about your sister?" Dr. Akopian breaks in, bursting their small bubble of intimacy.

That is precisely what he's been thinking about since the moment he told her the truth. Why did he keep it a secret from her? Why wouldn't he want to share the news with his girlfriend, the one person with whom he's shared the most of himself? She's the one who thought Kristen was his sister in the first place when he was too stubborn to consider it a possibility.

"Nathaniel?" When his eyes unfocus, both of the women are staring at him, waiting for an answer.

"I don't know," he says automatically at first, lying.

With one pointed look from Dr. Akopian, he knows he's not getting away with that answer.

"I think part of it is that I couldn't quite believe it myself. And, if I spoke the words out loud, I would jinx it or something."

"So you wanted her to be your sister?"

"I guess. I have a small family. I never had siblings before. It would be nice to have a family member with no baggage looming over the relationship."

Rebecca nods and leans toward him, eager to hear him share his feelings.

"Maybe it's also –" he starts but stops short. The thought he was about to express came out of nowhere, and he's not sure he wants to voice it.

"What?" Rebecca asks softly, pleading with her eyes for him to continue.

It's too late to take it back. He has to say it now. It's embarrassing to admit, but it's honest.

Looking down at their hands to avoid her gaze, he says to Rebecca, "Back when . . . when you hit her with your car and that whole thing happened . . . I forgave you. And you ended things the next day. I know it's not rational or logical – it doesn't make sense – but I think my brain associates her with our breakup."

He shakes his head, as if he wants to shake the thought out of his head. It's so silly.

Before he can lose his nerve, he goes on, "Honestly, sometimes I feel like I'm constantly holding my breath, waiting for you to break up with me, waiting for you to change your mind about giving me another chance. When all of this came to light about Kristen, I guess I couldn't help but associate it with the breakup."

Rebecca makes an involuntary sound, breath rushing out of her nose. She unclasps her hand from his.

"Rebecca, do you want to respond to what he said?"

"It's frustrating," she says just above a whisper.

"What?"

Louder this time and a little more aggravated this time, she repeats, "Hearing that makes me feel frustrated."

"Why?" Dr. Akopian prompts.

In an unexpected burst of anger, Rebecca fires back. "What more do I have to do to prove to you how I feel?! I already got up in front of the whole world and declared my feelings for you! In song!" she cries, becoming more and more animated. "I mean, what is it going to take? Do I have to write it in blood or something? Maybe I should charter a plane and skywrite it in big, puffy clouds: I love Nathaniel," she declares, her arms wildly gesticulating to punctuate each word.

The more loud and theatrical she gets, the more Nathaniel seems to shrink. He folds his hands stiffly in his lap and he hunches over like he wishes he could disappear into the background.

"Rebecca," Dr. Akopian interjects, "this should be a safe space for Nathaniel to express how he's feeling as well."

Rebecca crosses her arms across her chest and sinks back into the couch. After a beat, a look of recognition flashes across her face like she's just remembered something.

"Is that why you won't say you love me?" she asks, pinning him with a look. She waits for his reaction, like she wanted to shock, to provoke an outburst in return.

And it works. Nathaniel scoffs and straightens up, back to his usual stick straight posture. "What? What are you talking about? I've said it plenty of times."

"You never say it first."

"That's not true," he says reflexively, but even as he says it, he's not sure whether or not it's true.

Outraged, she asserts, "Yes it is! You never say it first. I always have to pull it out of you. What, is it some kind of punishment because I broke up with you once a billion years ago? Did you use up all your I love yous and now you don't have any left to give?"

Her accusatory tone puts him on the defensive. It makes him want to return her attack with equal fervor. It can't be true, can it? That he hasn't once said it first since they've rekindled their romance? And even if it is true, so what? Is it really fair to keep some invisible ledger of I love yous? It's ridiculous. Absurd. Maybe he deserves to get a few I love yous thrown his way after all the times he endured not hearing it back the last time he pursued her. Maybe he deserves to be chased this time.

"First of all, it was not a billion years ago and you broke up with me multiple times," he says. "At my apartment, in the breakroom at work, at Rebetzel's." A montage of these moments flash through his mind in rapid succession. She inspired him to be vulnerable, to expose himself emotionally in ways he never did before she crashed into his life. And that same vulnerability gave her the power to hurt him.

The next part slips out unintentionally, like the words have been sitting in his throat waiting to jump out at the opportune time. "And maybe I'm afraid you won't say it back! Just like all the other times you didn't say it back. Did you ever think of that?"

Tears prick his eyes. Maybe it's true. Maybe he is still carrying hurt around from that long ago. Yes, he cheated. Yes, he made mistakes. Yes, there are a multitude of things he wishes he would have done differently. Does that mean he's not allowed to have feelings about it? He's not allowed to be hurt too?

Rebecca uncrosses her arms and lurches forward, surging with emotion. "So you are punishing me then? Listen buddy, I'm sorry I broke up with you after I had a traumatic suicide attempt and had to get my own shit together first. Is that what you want? You want an apology for not immediately jumping into another romantic relationship that could have literally killed me at the time?"

Suddenly all the air is sucked out of the room. His mouth drops open in shock.

Rebecca doubles down, delivering a final blow. "You went sneaking around behind my back. Just like your father who you claim to hate so much."

He blinks. His shoulders slump. This is it: his breaking point.

Rebecca's breathing becomes quick and labored. She breaks eye contact, squeezing her eyes shut in pain. She's gone too far and she knows it. Regret is written all over her face.

Dr. Akopian's soothing voice breaks through the tension, "Rebecca, that kind of comment is not productive to this conversation. I think we all need to pause here and take a deep breath."

But the words are already out there, in the air between them. Every part of him aches with the weight of her words. Just like your father. It echoes, reverberates in his head. Just like your father. He's tried hard to dissociate himself from his father. He took a sabbatical, insisted on working pro bono at the women's prison. He's investing in Rebetzel's, a venture he would never approve. Hell, even dating Rebecca seemed unconventional by Plimpton standards. And yet, in a moment of weakness he did the same thing his father did, something he reviled.

What hurts most is that she's right. She's been right about everything. Kristen is his sister. He's cheated. He's lied. And, for the life of him, he can't recall a time in recent memory where he's said I love you first. He still hasn't given her his whole heart. He's holding back.

She's right.

Just like your father.

"You're right," he says softly, his voice breaking.

For the first time in the conversation, Rebecca is the one who's shocked. It disarms her instantly.

"What?" she whispers.

"You're right," he repeats. "Maybe I hate my father because I am him."

"No – I didn't –"

He shakes his head, warding off her objections.

"He always wanted me to follow in his footsteps. And I have. I'm in the same job, running the same firm. I've been cutthroat. Ruthless. I've been working more hours than I'm supposed to, letting my father cut into my pro bono time." As he speaks, his voice becomes more and more choked, each word drowning him further in misery. "And I cheated on a good woman, just like he did. The only thing I'm missing is a bad back and a son to pass on this stupid fucking name to."

"No," Rebecca says, grabbing his forearm, as if she can pull him out of this metaphorical hole he's in, "no, I didn't mean that. You're nothing like him. You're a good person."

"Am I?" he asks sincerely, searching her eyes. He sniffles and quickly wipes away a tear that has escaped.

"May I say something?" Dr. Akopian asks.

Nathaniel is grateful for whatever she's about to say next, because he's not sure he can take any more of this conversation.

"I think both of you are suffering from a fear of abandonment. It's manifesting in different ways for each of you. Rebecca, you're afraid Nathaniel may be unfaithful. Nathaniel, you're afraid Rebecca will abruptly end the relationship. Even though you have both changed a great deal since the last time you were romantically intimate, these fears still linger deep down inside you."

She looks back and forth between them, compassion in her eyes.

"What you're lacking is trust in one another."

Nathaniel takes a shaky breath. To him, this diagnosis of their relationship sounds terminal. Unmendable.

"Building trust is foundational to any healthy relationship. It fosters a feeling of comfort and safety with the other person. It allows you to be vulnerable. Without trust, no relationship stands a chance."

Rebecca reads his mind and asks, "What can we do?"

"There's no magic bullet," Dr. Akopian says. "I've heard you both echo the sentiment that you can't change the past. Unfortunately, you're not starting with a clean slate. It's up to both of you to decide whether you can move forward, knowing that the past will always be there. You need to decide if you are open to trusting one another and are committed to building the trust going forward. If you can't do that, I can't in good conscience say that you should continue as romantic partners. If you don't address them, these same issues will come up again and again."

It all makes sense, every word of it. Hearing it out loud, it all seems so obvious. Why couldn't they figure out such a fundamental, basic thing? Why was friendship so easy for them, but romance so difficult?

Compounding the issue, he can't stop thinking about his father. Is he fated to follow the same path? Or can he change it? Does he have that power? Suddenly it all feels insurmountable. He's so tired.

"Thank you," he says quietly to Dr. Akopian, slowly getting to his feet. "I think I need some time to process all this and think through some things."

He half expects Rebecca to beg him to stay. He almost craves it. Her hands clench in her lap, and he's certain she's repressing that urge to stop him from walking away. He vividly remembers the day they had the argument about Greg and how difficult it was for her to confront that fear of being abandoned.

It would be so much easier to bury himself in her arms, to forget about the whole messy day and fall into bed together, kiss the pain away. They've always been good at that part. It would be fleeting, though. A temporary relief.

His father says he has masochistic tendencies. He says it like it's a good thing. Is that what this is? Is he subconsciously torturing himself, pursuing the only woman who's ever had the ability to hurt him?

As he leaves the room, shutting the door behind him, each step feels heavier than the last. But he doesn't linger. He doesn't want to overhear what she'll say next. He doesn't want to know if she cries or yells or falls apart. If he did, he would never leave, and he needs space to think.