“And you can call me Mac.”
“Okay, Mac.” She settled more comfortably, crossing one leg over the other, a digital tablet on her knee where she’d already scribbled something down. “So … I have the information you sent over when you booked the appointment, but can you tell me what brought you to therapy?”
“Why I’m here?” Fuck, I didn’t even know where to start, and the thought of spilling it to this stranger made that tightness heavy on my chest again. How the hell did Billy and Robyn do this? I’d spent my whole life dealing internally with my own shit, except for the times I’d confided in Lachlan and Arro. And that was only because I trusted them both with my life. To unleash all that, all that darkness buried underneath the Mac everyone thought they knew, to a stranger?
I’d competed and won the US National Jujitsu Championships, chased down some of Boston’s worst criminals, guarded Lachlan with my body against threat, faced the daughter I hadn’t fought hard enough for, and been stabbed three times in the gut.
Therapy was scarier than all that combined.
“I’m not sure I should have come.” I made a move to stand, and Iona gestured me back down.
“Sit, please. I understand it can be more difficult for men to come forward and talk about their feelings. Especially men of your generation. Not a stereotype, but a fact. So I won’t badger you to tell me how you feel right now. Just talk to me, like you would a friend, and tell me what circumstances led you to come here today.”
That tightness crawled up my throat, but before I could give up, walk out, wrap my pride around myself to keep me warm at night, I admitted, “I broke the heart of the woman I love.”
I winced as the words echoed between us, not just for their painful truth but because it seemed a betrayal of myself and Arro to voice something so personal to this stranger.
Iona studied me for a moment and observed, “It can feel very odd at first. To confess intimate details of your life to a stranger, but think of it as an opportunity, Mac. I am the one person in your life who has a completely unbiased perspective. I’m not here to judge. I’m here to be the ears you need and to help you understand how you ended up on my couch. And once we understand that, we can work on strategies to help you move forward with your life.”
I unclenched my hands, not realizing how badly I’d fisted them. The white of my knuckles colored again. “I … uh …” Where did I start? “I’ve done things, things I’m not proud of, and I think she deserves better than that. Arro. Her name is Arro. But I hurt her trying to keep her away, and I’m … I’m concerned I can’t fix things between us.”
“All right. Would it be okay if we went back to the beginning? Can you tell me how you met Arro?”
So I did. I told her how we met when she was only fourteen because I was Lachlan’s bodyguard. That our friendship didn’t cement itself until her father died when she was in her midtwenties and I helped her through it. How we kissed on New Year’s Eve all those years ago, and it changed everything between us … and nothing. Because I wouldn’t allow it.
I told her about Robyn, about our estrangement, about the Lucy Wainwright case, about Lachlan falling for Robyn. I spoke more than I had in God knows how long. To my shock, it all just bloody poured out of me. But these were merely facts. I didn’t tell her how I felt about any of it.
“So you’re concerned about losing Lachlan’s friendship, which is complicated by the fact that he’s now married to your daughter?” Iona asked when I paused.
“Well, when you say it like that, it sounds almost incestuous,” I joked.
“No.” Iona chuckled. “But complex. Like many families. Do you think there are really these obstacles standing in the way of your overall satisfaction with life, i.e., the happiness that being with Arro would bring you? Or is the real problem your sense of self-worth?”
I considered it and answered honestly, “Maybe both.”
“Why don’t we go back into your past even further? How does that sound to you?”
“Uncomfortable. Painful.”
“Then we should definitely go back and discuss why that is. We’ll take our time. We’ll go at your pace, and we’ll pause when you need to.”
I shifted, my gaze flicking to the clock.
For Arro, I reminded myself.
Looking back at Iona, I nodded. “All right, then.”
“Okay. Let’s start with your early years, Mac. Tell me about your parents.”
“My mum wasn’t in my life, and I suppose you could say my dad wasn’t really either …”
Scheduling the therapy session before my jujitsu class seemed like an efficient idea, but in hindsight, probably not the best. I was nothing short of shell-shocked as I walked into the sports center where I’d been teaching martial arts for years. The club was run by former Scottish champion Hayley Jones, and I’d agreed to teach her adult beginner’s class on Thursdays. I taught the white belts until they were ready to move on to Hayley’s classes as a blue belt. It meant mostly teaching them guard work, but now and then, Hayley needed me to cover her senior classes if I was available.
I enjoyed teaching.
But tonight, I wanted to go home to the quiet of a dark room.
That wasn’t an option. I still had to relieve Jock of his guard duties at Arro’s. Somehow I got through the class on autopilot, though a student or two asked if I was all right. I’d shrugged off their concern, finished up class, and finally got on the road back to Ardnoch. The hour-long drive home finally gave me the quiet I needed.