The Desolated Two

// ninety nine //

Diana's POV

"How do you feel today, Diana?" Daniel asks, not staring at his notepad, but instead focusing his gaze on me.

There's something about his eyes, the way they are so bright, sharp and seems like they can literally see through you makes you want to fess up the darkest of your thoughts. But I've been in therapy with him for a long time to know how this operates.

"Okay." I shrug, picking up on the threads of my rugged jeans which has a hole in both knees.

"Let's talk about your mother today." He says, his expression dead serious but something compels me to scoff.

"Let's not."

"How do you feel about her death? It has been a month since you started coming here for regular sessions and yet you never bring her up on your own." He gives me a curious glance, almost ticking me off.

"Yeah, that's because you always bring it up yourself." I point out, but I'm not wrong.

I might have been shit faced that night a month ago when I told Aaron I want to go to therapy again but the fact is that I had been thinking about it ever since I came back from Larkspur. When I woke up crying almost every night, finding it hard to breathe, I knew I would need help, especially considering my past.

Stress and I don't cope well together.

"Agreed. So, do you miss her?" He asks, folding his hands on the desk in front of me.

I look down at them, studying them before I meet his gaze, "Do you love your wife, Dan?" I ask and he frowns.

"We're not here to discuss my love life."

I nod, "I know, but it's a simple question." I ask, my eyes set on his wedding band that he started wearing two weeks ago.

"As a matter of fact, I do." He says, touching the ring and I smile.

"As long as we're on facts, what kind of stupid question is it to ask me if I miss her. Of course I do."

He sighs frustratingly, "I forget you can be a pain in the ass sometimes." He says, making me grin with amusement.

"You better keep that in mind."

He shakes his head at me, "Tell me how you feel when you think about her."

From his tone, I can tell that he doesn't want a sarcastic remark. He wants me to be honest so I sigh, my back hitting the couch as I stare at the bookshelf behind me.

I can lie to him, but that's not what I am here for. Therapy isn't fun, it's cathartic but also emotionally exhausting, so if I'm investing my time here, I might as well do myself a favour and be honest to both my therapist and myself.

"Guilty." I tell him and he gives me a nodding gesture to continue, "She kept writing me those letters, hoping I would come around and I should have but I was so busy holding onto what my father did to me that I punished her as well. If I weren't being this stubborn, I would have spent more time with her."

He nods, "Do you blame your father in this situation?" He asks, his questions surprising me but I know the answer already.

"I forgave him." I admit for the first time out aloud, "He and I have been on good terms for couple of months now, I call him once in a while which is a change because I'm not used to that."

"Is it a good change or a bad change?" He asks.

I think about his question before a small smile takes over my face, "A good change. It's what she would have wanted."