Page 78 of Things We Do for Love and Science
“Dr. Cordelia Wright?”
Delia’s eyelids flew open. She sat up straight, quickly dashing the tears away. “Yes, that’s me.”
A tall, middle-aged woman with ice-gray hair cut in a fashionable bob, her eyes framed by the dark rim of designer glasses, smiled at her. “Very nice to meet you, I’m Dr. Evelyn Ashford.”
Delia shook the older woman’s hand, the academic snob in her approving of the psychologist’s doctorate. Maybe it wouldn’t be quite so excruciating to reveal the wounds of her soul, after all.
She’d have to be in it for the long haul. Tom had warned her that therapy wasn’t a quick fix. All this inner work would have to be done byher,and she’d have to find out where the hell her feelings were located in her body. It sounded fairly esoteric, but her usual avenues were exhausted. Thinking things through on her own had got her into this mess.
During session one, two, and three, Delia addressed the most formative moments of her childhood. She could see the sense in that—Dr. Ashford needed some background info. But the time had come to broach the subject that had prompted her to see a psychologist in the first place. Session four—showtime.Come on, Delia, face it head on.
Slumped in the chair opposite Evelyn, Delia forced herself to inhale deeply. “What brought me here is the simple story of a man and a woman falling in love and making a terrible mess of things.” She coughed. “It was mostly me who ruined it.”
Evelyn glanced from her notebook, her expression friendly and welcoming. “Remember, we talked about you not always being so hard on yourself. Try practicing some self-compassion.”
“Yes,” Delia mumbled. She had googled ‘self-compassion’ more than once but had a tough time retaining what it meant and how to practice it.
Evelyn waved her pen at her. “Please continue.”
Delia grasped the armrests of her chair and gave a succinct overview of how she met Gabriel, and how they had decided to try for a baby together.
“I relaxed once the parameters were set. There was no danger of us stepping into the fraught territory of a romantic relationship. We were friends having fun, getting ready to co-parent. So, involuntarily, I opened up and...I suppose...fell in love with him. Early on, I cared for him deeply as a friend, and physically, we were well suited. But it took the stupidest of reasons for me to admit to myself that my heart and soul loved him too—jealousy, the idea that I can’t have him even if I told him of my feelings.” Delia unsuccessfully fought the oncoming tears.
The psychotherapist lifted a box of tissues from a nearby table and offered it to her.
Delia plucked several from the box, dried her eyes, then blew her nose. “I’m sorry, I...” she sniffled.
Evelyn replaced the tissues on the table and caught Delia’s eye. “Self-...”
“...Compassion, I know.” Delia took a few moments to collect herself and began again. “I have to let him go—the idea of us. I’m not good for him. He’s building a future with a woman who is much better suited.”
Creases appeared on Evelyn’s forehead. “This sounds to me as if you’re feeling unworthy of love. Are you sabotaging the love that is freely given to you because you’re afraid it will be snatched from you at a moment’s notice? Do you believe it’s conditional, that sooner or later you’ll be found lacking?”
The diagnosis hit the mark so directly, it pressed the air right out of Delia’s lungs. She fought for breath and composure and lost on both accounts.
The therapist pushed the box of tissues toward her once more. “This is the place where you can cry. Please know this is a normal reaction. The impact of childhood trauma or neglect means we oftentimes see ourselves as objects unworthy of affection. We believe we’re broken. When in reality the fault lies squarely with the person or persons who ignored our boundaries, were overly critical, or betrayed us.”
Delia raised her head and peered at Evelyn through her tears. “Thank you, that sounds...plausible.”
Evelyn smiled at her warmly. “You have been guarding your heart your whole life. But you can live open-heartedly and still set your boundaries and show discernment. In fact, you should. But you must accept that life always involves risk. If you remove risk, you remove the aliveness.”
Delia blinked. All this information threatened to overwhelm her. “I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”
The therapist steepled her hands and focused on Delia. “What singles you out like that? What makes what’s hard for everybody especially hard for you? And don’t you believe it’s the lot of mankind to deal with the risk of being hurt, to have no guarantee for happiness?”
Delia dropped her head. “I’m aware it’s hard for everybody. But I have the tendency to think other people are more whole, more equipped for an emotional life than I am.”
Evelyn leaned forward. “You can learn, Delia, and you will. This little life you’re carrying will fill you with such love, you’ll have no choice but to open up.”
Delia laid a hand on her belly, still flat but already harboring a little being carrying her and Gabriel’s DNA. “Yes, I’ll learn,” she said.
“Your childhood experience was indeed difficult, but you’re an adult now.” Evelyn’s expression softened. “Don’t allow your parents’ dysfunctional relationship to shape and guide your life decisions. From now on, don’t let it mar your chance of happiness.”
Delia could only nod. A heaviness had lifted, because she was certain she would manage. She’d get over Gabriel and be a good mother to their child.
~ * ~
Work on the Hall hadtaken over every waking hour that Gabriel wasn’t busy with clients’ accounts, and the effort had paid off. All twenty-six rooms were rewired. Next up was the planning of the necessary plumbing work, but first he had to contact Evelyn. He’d put it off long enough, but he needed her help if he was to co-parent with Delia. With the therapist’s support, he’d find a way to get on with his life and recreate a stable relationship with Vanessa.
