Page 55 of My Infatuation with Isabella

February 17, 2027

Anger management therapy: Session #11

“I feel like I need to be strapped in,” Dr. Burkman says, clasping her hands together in fake horror, “because this is like watching a train derail. Isabella, let’s start with you first because your situation seems less...messy. So, host of a radio show?” She puts her pen down because she’s asking this purely out of interest. “Did you finally find that special something that brings you fulfillment?”

I smile. “I sure did. I’ve been at KRXM ever since then. We were so nervous at the beginning because we didn’t know where our boundaries were and how much of ourselves we should show the audience because...well, because we can be crude and offensive. But in the second week or so, Scott called in and I think that helped because it just kinda felt like a normal conversation we’d have over lunch on a Saturday afternoon. He stopped this lady on the street to ask her opinion on the topic we were discussing, and it ended up being hilarious. I asked him to do the same thing for the rest of the week, and Damon loved it so much that Scott got a ten-minute slot on our show at two every afternoon. We called itOn the Spot with Scott. I know it sounds weird, but that small interaction with someone we knew just sort of grounded us and made us feel less overwhelmed and we came into our own. We became more confident in our abilities and our content, and the show just took off.”

Dr. Burkman nods. “And you think this is something you can do long-term?”

“Of course. It’s been amazing, and what I enjoy most is that every day is just...different. I never know what surprises the day will bring, and Ilovethat. Plus, financially, we’re doing great. Tommy and I finally moved out. I bought my own car.” My voice goes a little higher with my escalating pride. “Last year October, we got bumped up to the breakfast slot, six to nine in the morning, and landing the drive-time slot was a big deal. That came with an increase and more benefits. I did the craziest thing to celebrate. Scott told me to be wise with my money and invest in property, so...I bought a villa in Italy.”

Dylan’s head snaps in my direction. “Really? Radio pays good.”

“Notthatgood,” I correct a little sheepishly. “It’s not a villa like what you’re thinking. It’s not on a vineyard or anything. They have this project where they’re selling these worn-down, dilapidated homes for as little as one euro. It’s in Molise, in this tiny little town called Castro... Castropignano. I’m not sure if I’m saying it right.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Go on.”

The eagerness in his voice gets me more excited, and I start gushing about my new purchase. “So, the fine print when you buy is that you have three years to renovate it, and that can be pretty pricy. I’m dying to go there and see it, but I just haven’t had a break in my work schedule.”

“The details don’t matter. You own a fricken villa in Italy!”

“Right? Scott wasn’t too impressed with my choice.”

“Scott is wary about his finances, so he only invests in something if it’s gonna yield a return. He doesn’t understand that kind of joyisthe return.”

And that is how this guy gets me to lower my guard every single time. He sucks me in with his playful, laid-back demeanor, and no matter how many times I tell myself not to fall for it, I end up being the sucker. I say nothing further, trying to withdraw from the conversation so Dr. Burkman can focus on him instead.

“Dylan, it seems like you were going through some marital turmoil. Did you manage to work through your...confusion?”

“Confusion?” He outright laughs at her word choice. “That’s such...an understatement. See this chain, Doc?” He reaches into his T-shirt and pulls out the silver chain with the anchor dangling from it. This isn’t the first time I’ve seen it. It’s around his neck all the time, but I’m not sure why he still wears it. “After I saw her at the coffee shop, I started wearing it around my wrist. I wanted it to be a constant reminder that she purposely lied to me, betrayed me, fucked me over, but all it ended up being was...a constant reminder. We agreed to stay out of each other’s lives, but it was easier for her than for me because I had this...thingnagging me day and night, and eventually, I gave in...and tuned into her show. Worst mistake of my life! I became addicted. I had this obsessive need to hear her voice every day...just like when we were in high school and...and I fell in love with her all over again...or maybe I never stopped...I don’t know. Things were already a little rocky between Fran and I, and that just made it worse because she could tell that I wasn’t all there. We were fighting a lot. I wasn’t eating properly. I wasn’t sleeping. I just wasn’t...happy anymore.”

I’m listening to him, but I don’t know what to make of it. I’m not sure if I should feel some level of guilt because he seems to be blaming me for the problems in his marriage. But at the same time, I can’t take responsibility for his actions.Hedid all these things.Hetuned into my show.Hecame up tomyroom on Christmas eve. Somehow, hearing all this makes me feel even more used. When he was telling Dr. Burkman about our chat in the coffee shop, he said he just wanted to get me out of his system. Have his way with me one more time. And he did...then he snuck out of my room and went back to his wife. Now he has the nerve to say he loves me. Asshole!

“So, you were caught in a downward spiral?” Dr. Burkman asks.

“Yeah.” He scrubs a hard hand over his jaw. “And then...and then, uh, that fertility clinic we went to...they called us in, and the doctor told us that they picked up some abnormalities. Um...so I went for more tests...and, uh, I found out...I can’t have kids.”

Just by the way his hands are trembling, I can tell that this was devastating news for him. He drops his head, pressing the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, and we give him a minute to collect his thoughts.

“Extremely low sperm count...so I’m pretty much infertile,” he says after some time. “And...and the thing is, I-I was bouncing back and forth on the idea of having kids...because of my sister. If someone ever had to hurt my kid the way she was hurt, I would...I would fucking kill them...and that’s not an exaggeration, so I needed to think about how I was going to be as a parent before I decided to bring kids into this world. But when that choice was taken away from me, I realized I wanted to have kids. I was just scared to have them.” He pauses to take a breath because he is not coping with whatever he’s feeling right now.

“Do you want to stop?” Dr. Burkman asks.

“No...no, I’m okay.” He takes another breath. “So, when the weight of that news finally sunk in...I fell into a depression...and I tapped out. I tapped out of my friendships. I tapped out of my marriage. I tapped out of...life. I swear if I wasn’t working in the family business, I would’ve gotten fired. I would’ve losteverything. It was that bad.”

“Did you have any violent outbursts or anything like that?” Dr. Burkman asks, keeping concerned eyes on him.

“No.” He shakes his head. “It’s not in my nature to just be violent or aggressive, Doc. Something has to really rile me up to get to that point, and I just felt...nothing. I felt stuck...like I was living someone else’s life because...because it wasn’t the lifeIwanted. And what I wanted seemed so far out of reach, so...I just sat back and let everything fall apart around me. But thankfully, I have the most amazing people in my life. My parents gave me the space to go through all that at my own pace. Scott and Peter pulled back for a few months, but they’re the type of guys that don’t need any explanations, so they sat me down one day and said we can see you’re going through something. You don’t have to say one word, but youwillbe at the gym four times a week to work out with us...so that’s what I did, and somehow, our friendship survived that.”

“Tell me a bit more about how this affected your relationship with Francesca.”

---