“You are my last appointment of the day, so we’re in no rush. We’re going to take all the time that we need. Have a seat, Clay. You make me nervous when you stand about like that,” Shaemus joked, waving his hands in the direction of another chair. Maggie looked at my therapist in surprise, clearly taken aback by his candor. It was true that Shaemus took some getting used to. I was still adjusting to his personality. But he hadn’t set off the bitch slap reflex yet, so I suppose we were doing pretty well.

I met Maggie’s eyes and gave her, what I hoped, was a reassuring smile. Hers was wobbly, but genuine as she made herself comfortable. Shameus took his place in the love seat across from us. He picked up a pad of paper and clicked his pen a few times.

“Have the two of you had a chance to discuss what you hope to get out of the session together?” Shaemus asked, getting right to the point. Maggie and I shared a glance and I grimaced.

“No, not really,” I said. Shaemus nodded, obviously not surprised. He clicked his pen again.

“Maggie, have you ever been to therapy before?” he asked her. Maggie cleared her throat and shook her head.

“No, I haven’t. My parents wanted me to…uh…see someone a few months ago. But I never did.” I looked at her in surprise. This was news to me. I started to chew the inside of my lip. God, how bad had things been for her if her parents were suggesting therapy?

Shaemus looked between the two of us again. “This was after Clay left?” he asked for clarification. Maggie’s face began to flush and I knew this was hard for her to admit.

“Yes,” she said quietly. I wanted to reach out for her hand again. Should I touch her? Would she let me? I didn’t know what to do. This new information had thrown me.

Shaemus made a noise in his throat. “Can you tell me a little bit about why your parents would think you needed to see someone? Just so I can get an idea of how things were for you.” He didn’t look at me once; his entire focus was on Maggie.

She squirmed in her seat and shot me another look. This one seemed full of apology and this time I took her hand. Doubts be damned, I needed the physical connection. We needed it.

Maggie cleared her throat again. “I was depressed. After…everything.” Shaemus interrupted her.

“It’s okay to say what happened. One of the things Clay and I are working on is facing his choices, his behaviors, head on. We don’t have to dance around them in here. This is a safe place. It’s important that you feel comfortable in voicing your feelings and concerns. These four walls are meant as a sanctuary. But if at any time, you are unable to talk about something, you just need to say so. Communication is essential.” I watched Maggie’s throat move up and down as she swallowed. Her fingers gripped mine painfully.

“Yeah, so I was depressed. Really depressed after I came home from North Carolina. After Clay had tried to kill himself.” My gut twisted at the reminder of my actions that came from her lips. It wasn’t an easy thing to talk about but to hear her say it made me want to hide under my chair.

“I wouldn’t leave my room. I had a hard time sleeping. I lost weight. I was pretty pathetic. Anyway, my parents talked about me getting counseling. I knew they were worried. I hated that they were worried, but I couldn’t snap out of it.” A betraying tear slipped down her cheek and I had to look away.

“What changed for you then? Since you never sought out professional help, I can only assume something did.” Shaemus lifted his pen and made some notes on his pad of paper.

“I don’t know. I guess I just got sick of feeling sorry for myself. I told myself that Clay wasn’t coming back, that he was trying to get better. And me moping around wouldn’t help him or me.” She looked over at me and her eyes were glassy from tears.

“And then I got this letter from Clay telling me to move on. That he didn’t want me to wait around for him. Something inside me snapped and I became angry not sad. So, I suppose that helped.” I started gnawing the inside of my lip again. Hearing this was more difficult than I imagined. I bit down hard enough to draw blood, the copper taste oddly soothing.

Shaemus stopped writing and looked at me, obviously picking up on my anxiety. “And how does this make you feel, Clay? To hear how hard things were for Maggie after your suicide attempt?” Shaemus asked matter of factly.

Wow, dude wasn’t pulling any punches.

I stared down into my lap, the hand that still held Maggie’s felt foreign and disconnected. I could barely compute that she was still there with me. I was left alone with my guilt.

“I feel like shit, alright. I was a selfish dick, is that what you want to hear?” I was getting angry. I wished I wasn’t because anger had never helped me.

Maggie squeezed my hand and I tried to calm down. I took several deep breaths. “I feel angry. At myself for doing that to her. I feel sad and regretful for all the time I missed. I feel guilty for causing her pain. And mostly I feel like a failure. Because I failed Maggie. And I failed myself,” I whispered.

I heard Maggie’s soft intake of breath and I looked up at her. Tears fell steadily down her cheeks and her lower lip trembled. Shaemus handed her a box of tissues and she took several Kleenex, wiping her face.

“Maggie, what do you feel, hearing about Clay’s pain?” Shaemus urged. Maggie never took her eyes from mine as she answered.

“I feel sad. But I also don’t want him to feel guilty, or ashamed, or any of those things. He’s not responsible for what happened. He was sick.” I closed my eyes and shook my head.