Therapy had become part of the routine. It was only when Sarah suggested that she bring Fletch in for a session that she was reminded of how it fitted into the rest of the world.
So far, all it had really been was her talking about her day, changing little things about her life each week, barely noticeable at all, but this was a new beast entirely. Talking about her week, about her feelings, in front of Fletch.
Of course, she had said yes, more because she didn't want to appear that she wasn't ready than because she really felt she was.
"Sarah wants you to come to therapy tomorrow, normal time, you think you can make it?" Jac asked nonchalantly over dinner, hoping he would be as casual about it as she was. Her intention was to continue telling herself that it wasn't even a slightly big deal, for as long as she could.
"Of course, I don't have much planned for the day so I'm sure I can find some time to squeeze you in," he replied in jest, sipping his lemonade.
"It's not a haircut," she answered with a raise of her eyebrows. "It shouldn't be for too long. I'm not entirely sure what she wants to talk about, but I thought you wouldn't mind as long as it doesn't eat into your evening."
They went on as usual for the rest of the night and didn't say another word on the topic, much to Jac's relief. What happened in therapy, stayed in therapy, but Fletch didn't know that rule yet.
It wasn't until the next day that she really started to get antsy. She was tempted to call and say that Fletch was busy and they ought to reschedule, and to spin a similar story for Fletch. Of course, she wouldn't, because it would only be exposed later, and she would be forced to admit the truth.
At five o'clock, she headed downstairs to the psychiatry department and waited awkwardly outside of Sarah's office. Part of her wanted Fletch to forget, just so she could pretend to be angry at him for an hour and not have to talk about anything that really mattered, but sure enough, he turned up barely a minute after her.
"Ready?" he suggested warmly, waiting for her nod before reaching for the door handle and ushering her in first.
Introductions were brief, and a little awkward. Perhaps because Fletch was aware of the fact that this complete stranger knew every detail of their private life. Still, he smiled and took a seat, trying to remain focused on why they were here.
"So, I asked you to bring Fletch here today to see primarily, whether you would agree. Opening up to the people closest to you is one of the biggest steps, and you appeared eager to take it. Have the pair of you been discussing what is said in therapy, at all?" Sarah began, letting her glasses fall down her nose slightly as she dropped her eyes to her notepad.
"Occasional things here and there; either because I felt like I wanted to admit it to somebody in my real life, or because I felt he had a right to know because it regarded him in some way," Jac responded confidently.
"And have you ever wanted to know more, or less, about what was happening with Jac, Fletch?" Sarah asked, and he could feel Jac's gaze burning his skin.
"No," he replied honestly, "it's her recovery, not mine. It's her business and if she wants to let me in then I am grateful for what she trusts me with, but as long as she is happy and nothing seems to be wrong, this is about her, not me."
Jac rested her hand on his knee, smiling just slightly. Sarah noticed the movement and her expression shifted, though Fletch couldn't tell entirely what it had meant.
They proceeded to talk, mainly about their relationship and how it functioned. The question was raised whether Jac's mental state had effected their relationship at any point and that opened the door to the number of almost-breakups they had been through as a result of her attachment issues.
Somewhere within the hour, Jac had shifted so that there was a gap between her and Fletch. This sort of a discussion was not something that she often engaged in, and it was giving her a headache to think about the fact that he might try and continue the conversation after they had left.
"Well time's up for this week. Back to normal next week but if you're agreeable, Fletch, I might get Jac to bring you in again at some point soon. Would that be okay?"
Fletch nodded, reaching to shake the therapist's hand before standing and heading for the door. Jac followed close behind him and wondered how long he would hold off before bringing up the impending discussion that she knew was coming.
At the lift, he asked whether she fancied chilli con carne for dinner and things seemed normal. In the back of her mind, Jac was still wondering when he was going to start talking about it; maybe at dinner, maybe not until they'd gone to bed so she had no excuse.
"Don't you want to talk about it?" She snapped halfway through the 10o'clock news, sick of waiting for him to open the conversation.
"Therapy's insular. I'm not going to talk about it unless you want to, it isn't going to become dinner table conversation now, just because it's something that we've done together," Fletch reassured, taking her hand and squeezing it. "Was there something you wanted to talk about?"
Jac shyly shook her head, curling into his side as she let out the breath she had been holding ever since they had walked into the Sarah's office this afternoon. He truly was a Godsend, and she didn't know what she had done to deserve him, but she would never stop being grateful.
Maybe he would be welcome at therapy a little more often, if it was what he wanted. He had been there with her through the darkest days, it was only fair that he got to hear her shed some light on them too.
