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The thing that no one ever tells you about therapy is that for it to work, it has to really fucking suck. Like, really fucking suck.
It’s difficult and miserable and kind of makes her want to scream and sometimes does actually make her cry, and she thinks maybe it’s a good thing she can feel things again, but does it have to be like this?
It’s like – well, it just sucks. Alyssa has never liked being vulnerable. It’s easier to be angry. It’s safer.
But she promised James, and he looked so fucking hopeful… she can’t let him down.
She loves him. She really fucking loves him; it’s the can’t imagine her life without him sort of love.
But loving him doesn’t fix everything, even though he loves her back with everything he has.
It’d be nice if it did, though.
At least her therapist is nice, even when Alyssa blows up at her or screams or cries. She’s patient. Level-headed.
She’s probably seen worse.
Just because she needs therapy before things can get too serious with James doesn’t mean that she wants to live so far away from him, so she asks him to come live with her.
James has to petition for a change of address with his suspended sentence, but it works out all right. He moves into Aunt Leigh’s lake house. Alyssa’s mum drew the line at him moving into the main house, even though it really wasn’t her call; neither Alyssa or Aunt Leigh wanted to fight with her about it.
It’s weird. It’s like now that she and James are together, they can’t stand to be apart. They need each other.
(They’ve always needed each other; they just haven’t always had each other.)
James is properly sweet, though. He brings her flowers at work sometimes. It makes her feel appreciated. Loved.
She could never really doubt that James loves her. He doesn’t even mind that they can’t have sex, or anything. He’s happy just holding her hand and kissing her.
She sort of wants more sometimes, but her therapist says something about recovery and waiting and knowing her limits that sounds really smart, and sometimes the thought of a man on top of her still makes her feel sick, or like she isn’t even in her body.
And she knows James doesn’t want that.
Honestly, neither does she.
So they mostly just kiss when they’re alone in the lake house. Sometimes, he touches her breasts, which is nice. She offers to suck his cock once, but he blushes and says that they should wait.
(He’s still not sure if it works, he reminds her. She doesn’t mind.)
That’s fine. Just being close to him makes her feel better.
When he comes round the house for a shower (a line Alyssa was sure to draw, because he can’t bathe in the lake when it’s half-frozen; she doesn’t want him to die), they cuddle together on the sofa and watch telly while her mum glares at them.
Well, really, more at James.
She still doesn’t like James. Alyssa doesn’t care. She just snuggles closer to James and steals his discarded t-shirts.
(James likes seeing her in his clothes; his eyes go all wide and he can’t stop looking at her, and it makes her feel wanted, which her therapist says is fine, but maybe they need to unpack that a bit more, Alyssa’s need to feel wanted.)
James strokes her hair when they cuddle; he’s always really gentle and soft about it, like he’s afraid to hurt her. It’s sweet.
She really fucking loves him.
Some nights, she spends the night with him, cuddling up close to him in his bed, sticking her cold bare feet between his legs. He lets her, even though she knows it annoys him a bit. He pulls her close and breathes in her scent. Sometimes he cries. She doesn’t mind. She sort of likes it, that James is so in touch with his feelings and shit now.
One day, as he makes her breakfast in the cabin after a sleepover (he’s still really fucking great at cooking; better than anyone at home – sometimes she wonders if Aunt Leigh will hire him as a cook at the café), he looks nervous.
For a moment, she panics and wonders whether he’s trying to propose to her, or something. She’ll probably marry him someday, but her divorce from Todd still isn’t final yet, and it’s only been a few months.
But then, as they’re eating breakfast, he says, “I think I’m bisexual?” like it’s a question.
Oh. So it’s not at all about marriage. “Okay,” she says.
“I still love you.”
Is she meant to doubt that? “I know.”
“And I’m not going to leave you.”
Obviously. “I know.”
“It’s just – I sort of think I fancied a boy in primary school?”
Needless to say, his therapist is helping him unpack all of those emotions he repressed for so many years.
“I really don’t mind, James.”
“You’re the only person for me, really. I wouldn’t – it’s just… I thought I should tell you. It doesn’t change anything.”
She reaches for his hand and squeezes it. He needs this. “I know, James. I don’t mind, as long as you still love me – which obviously, you do.”
“I do. I really do.”
“Then why would I mind?”
“I… don’t know. People mind shit like this sometimes.”
“You’re still James, and I’m still Alyssa. You still love me, and I still love you. So it really doesn’t change anything.”
He starts crying. She gets up to hug him and stroke his hair. She murmurs that she loves him.
She really does. It’s mad how important he’s become to her.
She’s never going to let him go ever again.
When her divorce is finalised, they decide to take a holiday. They bicker a bit back and forth about where to go, because James isn’t allowed to leave the country (he’s still on his suspended sentence, but it’s almost up), which takes all the properly romantic places off the list.
Not that they could really afford Paris or Rome, anyway, but still.
It’s the principle of the thing.
It’s winter, so they can’t go to the seaside. It pretty much leaves London.
It’s less exciting than Alyssa wants, but it’s better than where they live, so whatever. She agrees.
They book a train, because they don’t really have good luck when James drives them places, and besides, parking ends up looking more expensive than the train.
It’s actually pretty cool. They split headphones on his walkman and listen to some cheesy West End musical that makes him cry. It’s one of his dad’s favourites, he says.
Alyssa squeezes his hand.
She can’t really understand how difficult it must be for James to have watched both of his parents die before age twenty. She never will. She just tries her best to be there for him, however she can.
When they get to London, it’s actually sort of brilliant.
She expects to be annoyed, because it’s not properly romantic, and everyone is speaking English, so there’s no mystery, or anything, but it’s pretty cool.
It’s not Paris, or anything, but she’s glad to be there with James. He’s looked into everything, and takes her out to do stupid tourist things (she puts on a bad American accent, and James can’t stop laughing).
They dress up to go to the West End, but he takes her out for dinner first. Alyssa feels sort of stupid in her dress, but at least James looks equally stupid in his suit.
He can’t stop making that face at her. That I love you face; that I’m so fucking lucky face. Like he’s the lucky one here.
Most girls can never find a guy as loyal as James; someone who loves them this much.
She’s still not totally sure how she’s managed it.
It’s not like she’s deserved it. She’s been a pretty shit person, even though she’s been trying to get better.
It’s hard to get better.
And through it all, James refuses to leave her side.
She let James pick the musical when they got tickets; she goes to the theatre with absolutely no idea what to expect. It’s actually pretty cool. She doesn’t mind that he cries. She squeezes his hand and tells him she loves him, that his dad would be proud of him, and his mum, too, probably.
It’s the truth, anyway.
She wouldn’t lie to him.
The thing is, it’s not like she’s forgot about the letter.
Her mum admitted to it, claiming that James was a bad influence. James, who’d only went along with what she’d done, and who’d only killed that man to save her life – or at least stop her getting raped. Either way.
But James still listened to her mum. He still wrote the letter. She still remembers the words.
They still hurt.
They have a nice, long talk about it after London, at her therapist’s encouragement. Something about closure, except she doesn’t need closure with James, because they’re never going to end.
They love each other, and have for years.
But they’ve also really hurt each other.
“It just made me feel shit,” she says. “You let me drag you along on everything – I thought you loved me –”
Even though he’s not supposed to interrupt, he does. “I did. I do.”
“I know that now. But… I was so pleased to get a letter from you, because we hadn’t been able to talk in so long, and it was that, and… it was just really shit, James.”
“I’m sorry. I just… your mum said I was bad for you – I traumatised you…”
“If it hadn’t been for you, he’d have actually raped me.”
“I didn’t have to kill him.”
“Maybe you did. Maybe nothing else would have stopped him.” She’s thought a lot about this. Obviously.
“I didn’t. You deserved – deserve – to be happy, and I thought it was best… I didn’t think I could make you happy. I couldn’t walk, I was about to go to prison… I never learnt how to process my emotions…”
“That should have been my decision, James.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“I forgive you, obviously, but… it really hurt.”
“I know.”
He doesn’t say that it hurt him, too, even though she’s pretty sure it did.
“I wouldn’t have minded that you couldn’t walk, you know. And I would have visited you in prison every week if you had gone to prison.”
“I didn’t want you to have to do that.”
“Again: it should’ve been my choice, James.”
He buries his face in his hands. “I’m really sorry, Alyssa.”
She knows he means it. That he’ll never do anything like that ever again.
That he loves her. Adores her. Needs her. Can’t be happy without her.
She’s all he has left.
So she hugs him. “Like I said: I forgive you. Obviously. Or else I wouldn’t be with you now. I just need you to understand…”
“I understand.”
She strokes his hair.
“I love you so much,” he says.
“I love you, too.”
She wants to spend the rest of her life with him, even if she isn’t ready to get remarried quite yet.
Her therapist keeps warning her about becoming dependant on him, but Alyssa thinks they’re both too fucked for anyone else. She knows that he needs her as much as she needs him – maybe more.
Besides, it’s James.
Things are too shaky to get married just yet – her therapist is right about that – but she knows that they will, someday.
For now, she pulls his hands away from his face and kisses him.
“You’re the only one out there for me,” she says. “I never want to lose you again.”
“I couldn’t lose you again.”
She doesn’t know if soulmates are real, or just made up, but she knows that if they are, James has to be hers.
She’s just got to work a bit more on herself.
They’ve got plenty of time.