One day I'll have it all. // Williamson

Jealousy

Leah had told me about her jealousy. Like I had told her about my self-destructive tendencies.

She had experienced mine. She had experienced my anxiety too, and my insecurities, and my fears. And yet, she never once judged me or made me feel ashamed of who I was. Instead, she had shown me nothing but love, compassion, and unwavering support, even when I didn't deserve it.

Now, it was my turn to do the same for her.

"I just don't like him. He's... he's hitting on you." Leah said, while walking back into the house, visibly fleeing away from the conversation I was trying to have with her. I followed her into the kitchen, her quick feet and long legs having me almost run after her.

As I caught up with Leah in the kitchen, I could see the tension etched in her features, her brow furrowed with anger and her lips pressed into a tight line. It was clear that she was struggling with her emotions, her jealousy gnawing at her from the inside out. She pretended to be busy, wiping the already clean counter.

"He's not hitting on me, baby. He's just doing his job. You said that I had to go to therapy and I did. He's just my therapist, Leah. Nothing more." I said, trying to sound reassuring. Leah offered me a glare, before focusing her eyes on the counter again.

"I don't want you to go there anymore," she mumbled, her voice firm. She was trying to hide her insecurities with authority. Would've worked if I didn't know her as well as I do. "Just... change therapist. Go to another one."

"No. I won't, Leah. It's already hard enough for me to go, I'm not gonna change therapist because you think he's hitting on me." I replied, my voice firm. Maybe too firm. Maybe she needed love and not a fight right now. But honestly I had no idea how to manage the situation we were in.

Leah's shoulders tensed at my words, her grip tightening on the dishcloth as she struggled to maintain her composure. I could see the conflict raging within her, the battle between her insecurities and her desire to support me warring behind her eyes.

"He's just... he's trying to get close to you," Leah insisted, her voice trembling slightly as she finally turned to face me, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and anger. "I don't like it, Val. I don't like the way he looks at you, the way he talks about you. It's... it's not right."

I sighed softly, my heart aching at the sight of Leah's distress. I knew how difficult it was for her to open up about her feelings, especially when they were tinged with jealousy and insecurity. But I also knew that I couldn't let her push me away, couldn't let her dictate who I could and couldn't see.

"And I see how you look at him, I see your smile and your eyes-"

"Hey. Stop that right now. So what? I can't even be polite anymore? Huh? I'm supposed to, to be rude and dismissive just because you think he's hitting on me?" I interjected, my voice tinged with frustration. "Leah, he's just a therapist. I'm not interested in him like that. You know that. I'm not gonna be rude to him just because you don't trust me."

"I trust you." Leah immediately said.

"No, Leah. You don't. If you trusted me, you wouldn't be questioning my intentions or doubting my loyalty," I replied softly, my voice tinged with sadness. "Trust goes both ways, Leah. And right now, it feels like you don't trust me at all."

Leah avoided my gaze, again. She looked down at her feet, then back at the countertop in front of her. "What if... what if he tries something? And you call for help and no one hears? Or what if you... what if he starts to understand you, in, in a way I don't, and he takes you away from me?" Leah's voice wavered with vulnerability as she voiced her deepest fears, her eyes pleading for reassurance even as she struggled to articulate her thoughts.