#Chapter 40 – Therapy call

That night, I’m not surprised to hear the phone ring in my closet. It’s another unscheduled call – Victor is used to getting what he wants, when he wants it – but he’s starting to develop a pattern with when he needs his therapist.

Checking to ensure that the boys are asleep, I tuck Archie into my lap on the closet floor and pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” Victor’s voice is brusk, unsettled, and – as usual – robotic. “Is this a bad time?”

“No, I can talk. The…usual overages, will apply, of course.”

“Yes.” Victor hurries on, dismissing this. “I’m having trouble,” he says, “balancing…well, balancing my life. My responsibilities to the people who I love, who love me.”

“I see,” I say gently. “Did something…happen? To bring about your unsettled state?”

He pauses. “Yes, it did. It’s amazing that you can intuit that.”

I press my hand to my forehead, warning myself to be careful. “Comes with experience,” I say, pushing forward. “Please continue.”

“We had…an incident tonight, I guess that’s the right word for it. My son tripped my fiancé – I don’t think he meant to hurt her, but she was hurt. Everyone was very upset.”

“I am sorry to hear that,” I murmur.

“Thank you. The issue becomes that I took your advice, although it is perhaps also…instinct, knowing that my son was in the wrong. But I backed Amelia, and we left.”

I note, silently, that Victor has – for the first time – accidentally dropped a hint about his identity. “How do you feel about this?”

“Honestly? I feel horribly guilty. The boys were crying so hard when we left, and they accused me – falsely, of course – of not loving them. I know that they’re just kids, and they’re overreacting, and that they will, of course, not think that I don’t love them forever. But I have to admit – it’s just killing me that they think that. Even for one night.”

“That sounds really hard,” I say, my heart in my throat. “As a mom…I can definitely emote with how difficult it is when your sons challenge you like this.” Little does he know that I know precisely what he means, as his sons are, in fact, my sons.

leaning against the kitchen island, his forehead in his hand. “Amelia needed me in that moment – I’m glad I

You

can hear his

“That sometimes helping your fiancé means you have to let your sons wait for a minute. Sometimes being there for then means you have to let her wait. You have to weigh everything

“What?”

I say, chuckling a little at his impatience. “When the house is on fire, you put out the most dangerous flame first.” Silently, I thank Mark for the knowledge and

wait, letting him process

it. “Going where I’m needed most

made the right choice. Your fiancé really needed you – or so it sounds – and it was good that you went with her. It

over what I’ve said. He stays silent on the other line and I wait for

you off more than anything else. That’s typically when I get these unscheduled calls, when

in my life. Well, an old pattern. One I haven’t visited in

to tell

suppose. I frequently felt this way as a child – torn between my allegiance

a family – I assumed, as is usually the case, that you were eager

what

of ten

in the tenth

is eager to be married in order to fix their childhood trauma. To demonstrate that they can hold it all together,

push. “Do

as a child, to hold my parents together – or

you’d like

voice. “I’d…I’d feel horrible, if I was

perhaps,” I say gently, “you need to find some ways to let them know that it’s okay to mess up, and make mistakes. That you being mad at them doesn’t mean

tonight, when I took

he raises his voice. “I think you need to embrace a little of the chaos. This is you, again, seeking the balance, wanting to be

okay for them to sit with their frustration. That just because you don’t attend to them immediately, it doesn’t mean you don’t love them. They have to learn to trust that,

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