The Professor

Chapter Twenty | Lover

I take a seat next to Lara, per her wishes. Mum and Dad stay exactly where they are to her right, gifting her their full attention.

"I've been seeing someone."

Dad immediately straightens his spine, protective mode activated.

"Romantically?" asks Mum.

Lara scoffs. "No! I therapist."

Dad deflates and I can tell he's relieved. It's fine that I have a boyfriend—I'm the sensible one—but I doubt he could handle Lara spending time with another man just yet.

"Since when?" he asks.

"A couple of months," she admits, fiddling with a piece of loose thread on her jumper.

"Is it helping?" I ask, softening my tone.

I need to act as mediator to this conversation and ask Lara questions that she no doubts wants to answer but can't quite find the right way to initiate it.

"Massively," she insists. "I don't want to..." she pauses. "Die."

Mum and Dad try their hardest to remain neutral, but I can tell by the slight alteration to their posture that they're way out of their comfort zone.

"But I know if I don't get help now, one day I might start having those thoughts."

"Are you having them now?" I question, taking hold of her hand.

Dad copies my gesture and takes hold of her other one.

"Yes."

Mum looks down to the ground.

"Not enough to act on it. Like I said, I don't want to die," she says. "I just wonder if maybe death is my only escape to the pain I suffer daily."

Dad—sensing Mum's deterioration—switches seats and sandwiches her between himself and Lara. He still holds onto Lara's hand and seeing how much she needs it, positions it onto Mum's lap.

"I want—I want you to meet her," she admits, looking to Mum and Dad. "I think she'll be able to help."

"With what?" asks Mum, sniffing back the tears she's so desperate to let loose.

Lara looks at me, begging for help.

"She'll teach you things," I offer. "Techniques, coping methods, signs to look out for."

"For Lara?" questions Dad.

Lara nods. "And you."

Mum looks at Dad. "You want us to see your therapist?"

Lara's hand tenses in mine and I can tell she's scared of offending them.

"If you want?"

I immediately take charge of the situation. "Of course they want to. We all will. Even me."

Dad shoots me a grateful smile over Mum's shoulder.

"I think it's important we handle this as a family," I continue, squeezing Lara's fingers. "It's a great idea!"

"Your dad and I could use a little guidance," admits Mum, coming around to the idea. "We're a bit..."

"Shit," offers Dad, lightening the mood.

Lara and I laugh.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he says. "Count us in."

Lara exhales and drops her shoulders, glad to have gotten that off her chest. In reality, all it took was a fifteen-minute conversation, but I know my sister and I know she's been building it up in her head for weeks. Our minds can often play the cruellest of tricks on us and if left to its own devices for too long, it can be or biggest downfall.