Mint [H.S.]

53

ISABELLA

I stare out of the office window, watching the busyness of Manhattan go by. The room had a calming smell to it - lavender and chamomile. It always helped calm my nerves and I was certain that's why it was lit.

Dr. Rosebush, my therapist, sat across from me. She was an older woman, in her late fifties, with her soft blonde hair pulled back into a bun. Her eyes are kind and welcoming. She was sat in a dark grey arm chair, her yellow skirt and white blouse contrasting against it.

"Have you thought about forgiving your father?" She asked again. I had been sitting here, pondering my answer for the last five minutes. Did I ever think about forgiving my dad for all of the hurt and shit he had put me and my family through? What he put my relationship with Harry through? No. I didn't think about forgiving him. How could I?

"No, I haven't."

"And why's that?" She scribbled something down on her pad of paper and I turned my attention back out the window.

Where would I even start to explain why I couldn't begin to consider forgiving that monster? Evil flows through his veins. There was no way I could even start to allow myself to say to him, I forgive you.

"He's been deceitful to my family. He's evil. He hasn't show one ounce of remorse for his actions. How can I forgive someone who has hurt me time and time again? He was supposed to protect me from being hurt, but he was the one who did the hurting. He wasn't a father.

"When I was a little girl, I always looked up to my dad. He was so big and strong. I had this crippling fear of spiders, and he would go and kill them for me. That was the kind of man he was. When I wanted to play on the swings, he would push me so that I could reach the stars. As a little girl, I always dreamt and hoped that my husband would be just like my dad. Now the mere thought makes me sick."

Dr. Rosebush was nodding as she jotted a few notes. She looked up from her notebook, her eyes narrowed in thought, as she ask her next question. "Do you think that it's hard for you to forgive him because he hasn't lived up to the standard you created as a child?"

I looked at her, a bit shocked but also pensive, as I mulled over that question. Huh... I wanted to shout my initial reaction, that it wasn't because of that but because he tried to murder my boyfriend. Yet the more I thought about it, there was always a part of me that held resentment towards my father, even before my move to London all those years ago.

I opened my mouth to answer, but I couldn't come up with the right words to express myself.

"Isabella," Dr. Rosebush's voice was soft as she brought me back to the present and away from my thoughts. She smiled softly at me, her hand resting on her closed notebook. "Unfortunately, I lost track of time and our session is up for today."

"Oh," I hadn't realized that the hour had already flown by. "But I hadn't answered your question."

She waved her hand, with a small shake of her head. "That's alright. I actually would like you to ponder this over the next week before we meet up for our next appointment. I can see that this isn't something you've truly thought about before. I can see how hard it can be to look at the man you held to such a high standard drop from it, into a man you wished he wasn't. It's difficult."

I nodded, "It is."

Dr. Rosebush smiled and gently placed her hand on my knee, "Think about it and we'll discuss it. You may be surprised how you might begin to feel after some self-reflection."

With Dr. Rosebush's words playing in my mind, I left her office with much to think about.

-

It is later in the evening and Harry and I have found ourselves on a double date with Jaz and Ben. It had been Jaz's idea and strangely enough, Harry had to be the one to persuade me to go out. Normally it is the other way around, but I had been so caught up in debriefing myself from my therapy session that I didn't want to leave our apartment. Yet somehow they managed to convince me otherwise, and here we were, in Brooklyn at some bar.