Page 44 of The Wedding Driver
He rubbed his chin. “I don’t know that I can stop. I’m using it now to cope with something else.”
“Wow. The fact that you can see that is huge. In the past, I’d have to guide you to that conclusion.”
He chuckled.
“Does this have to do with Tonya?” She rested her notebook in her lap and arched a brow.
He’d spoken about Tonya before. His growing feelings that he would never act on. He once told Marge that if anything ever happened to Victoria, he wondered if he might pursue Tonya, but then quickly backtracked that conversation because he liked being alone.
“The last session we had, you mentioned that it was getting harder for you to separate your emotions,” Marge said.
“It got worse when she asked me out and things got heated.” Needing something to hold on to, he lifted his coffee. Part of him felt like he was kissing and telling. It didn’t matter that he knew this was a safe space and Marge was required by law to keep their conversations private. “I care for her. I really do. But I can’t give her what she wants and it wouldn’t be fair to string her along and break her heart in a year or two.”
“What did she have to say about this?”
“She agreed.” A lump formed in Foster’s throat. “Our short-lived love affair ended.”
“Have you seen her since?”
He took a long sip of the brew he’d brought from the Green Bean down the street. “The first time was a wedding she sent my way. It was really awkward. We didn’t know what to say or how to act around each other, but I want to be able to remain friends. I honestly can’t imagine what life would be like if she wasn’t around, but she wants kids and I can’t go down that road again.”
“Let’s talk about that.” Marge lifted her pen and jotted something down.
Whenever she did that, he wanted to know what she was writing, but he never had the balls to ask. He was sure it was her way of categorizing his words and thoughts so she could put them into his file for their next session. That’s what a good therapist was supposed to do and Marge was the best.
“You’ve mentioned to me before that you never wanted to be in a relationship again because you didn’t want the responsibility, but you tried it—for a hot minute—with Tonya. Only, the second it got real, you walked away because you don’t feel you can do the family thing.”
“I know I can’t, and she knows that’s a deal breaker for her.”
“Is that what she said?” Marge arched a brow. “Or are those the words you put in her mouth?”
“She didn’t disagree.”
“All right. Now tell me what you said or what you were thinking about why you don’t believe you want or can have kids. And be honest.”
This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation, but he’d never been totally truthful before. He’d always skirted around his real feelings because he could. There was no girl in his life so there was no reason.
“I’ve always told myself that I didn’t have any more love for another child.”
“That’s not true and you know it.”
He nodded. Love had nothing to do with it. That had always been his excuse. He thought he was being punished because he hadn’t loved Lisa’s mother. That cheating on Victoria had brought about Lisa’s death somehow.
“So, what’s the real reason?”
“I’m afraid I’ll be a shitty partner like I was with Victoria. Or a terrible father. Or I’ll resent another child because they aren’t Lisa and no kid deserves that.”
“No. They don’t,” Marge said. “But to be fair, you’re not basing that on reality.”
“What do you mean?”
“First. Didn’t Victoria have two miscarriages after Lisa was born?”
“She did,” Foster said. “I wasn’t aware of the extent of her drug use at the time. After the second one, we stopped having sex altogether and I focused on doing my best to make sure Lisa was taken care of, but we know how that ended.”
“You’re deflecting,” Marge said. “You were a good father. Having an affair doesn’t make you a bad one, and what would have happened if Victoria didn’t have a miscarriage and one of those children survived and was still here today?”
“Aren’t you the one who constantly tells me not to what-if myself to death?”
