The next week is a quiet one except for the two afternoons I spend hanging out with Rex. Mae dropped him off and Nathan picked him up both times, which means I haven’t seen Liam all week. He texted after my first afternoon with Rex to thank me for helping and to apologize for not being the one to pick him up. He’d ended the text with: I was looking forward to having my day brightened by seeing your face. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.
I may have swooned over that. Just a little.
I thought I’d be happy to return to my hibernation—that’s why I came to Honeywell, after all—but I quickly realized one of the downsides of going from an always-on-the-go lifestyle to one of leisure is an abundance of time to think. Or, in my case, over think. Obsess. Stress.
When the lie that was my marriage fell apart—and the rest of my life with it—I was too busy to dwell on it. I didn’t have time to wallow. I had a movie to finish filming, interviews to give, public engagements to attend. And appearances to keep up since I never knew when a photographer or even an innocent snap-happy fan might be lurking and waiting for a photo op.
I have nothing but time to think now, though. About my marriage, about my career, about how uncertain and lost I feel…and about Liam. Despite the surprise of thoroughly enjoying the tree lighting ceremony and movie night, I’ve been second-guessing my decision to savor this taste of real life while it lasts. That would require living in the moment, and what do I know about that? About as much as I know about living a so-called normal life.
After attempting to avoid my thoughts, I come to the realization that the only way out of this thought spiral is to go through it. It’s something my old therapist Dr. Gupta always told me since I had a tendency to avoid and deflect when it came to difficult subjects. I need to allow the thoughts, as painful and messy as they may be.
One thing I keep coming back to is what feels like my dirty little secret: I should be heartbroken over the dissolution of my marriage, and yet I’m not. I’m hurt and angry, but the truth is I had started falling out of love with Alan before his infidelity came out.
In what would end up being the final year or so of our marriage, Alan and I lived mostly separate lives. As far as I knew, it was only due to our busy work schedules. I wanted to make our marriage work; I assumed my waning feelings were a product of us being apart so much of the time, and was certain we could recapture the deep love we once had for each other. I also didn’t want to become another statistic in the world of celebrity divorces. I planned to talk to Alan about us taking some time off and going away together to reconnect, but I never got a chance to bring it up before the truth came out. Turns out my husband was in love, just not with me.
Now I’m reminded why I tend to avoid deep dives into my own mind. I feel so stupid for not seeing Alan for who he really was. For believing we could make things work when he left our marriage long before I realized. If I’m perfectly honest with myself, even when things were good, they were never great. I’d convinced myself we worked well together, but there have been countless times in the last few months when I wondered if Alan ever truly loved me or if our marriage was simply a convenience for him. An elaborate publicity stunt that I unwittingly played a part in. My marriage was hardly any different than my movie and TV roles, but at least then I knew I was playing a part.
One of the roles I played in my marriage was the wife who was okay with her husband’s disinterest in sex. Since everyone’s sex drive differs, I didn’t question it. I trusted my husband to tell the truth, and I accepted it as a fact of our married life, the way I accepted him often forgetting to call when he was away or how when he was home his dirty clothes only ever made it hamper-adjacent instead of in the laundry basket.
So I stifled the side of myself that reveled in feeling sexy and desirable. The part that craved physical contact and intimacy. I learned to live that way, and even convinced myself it was probably common but not often talked about. It’s not like it actually mattered since I slept alone most nights anyway. I got pretty adept at using a vibrator. I knew it was normal and likely even healthy, but part of me was ashamed I’d been reduced to giving myself orgasms when I was a married woman and had naively thought ‘until death do us part’ included orgasms for life courtesy of my husband.
When I finally realize processing all of this is too difficult on my own, I get in touch with my former therapist. Despite the fact I’m no longer her patient, when I explain my situation and ask if she has any openings in the near future, she offers to do a session with me immediately via video chat. Part of me wants to put her off—I’m already exhausted from the mental gymnastics my mind has been doing—but the sensible part of me knows I need to face this now.
And so I spill my guts to Dr. Gupta. I tell her about everything that’s happened since I stopped seeing her: the public implosion of my marriage, the divorce, coming to Honeywell, finding out Alan is engaged, being surrounded by Christmas when that’s part of what I was trying to escape. I hadn’t intended to tell her about Liam, and yet thoughts of him kept flashing into my mind and finally spilled from my mouth.
As always, Dr. Gupta listened attentively, nodding along or interjecting briefly when she had something to say or a question to ask.
“It’s natural for the shame you felt in your marriage to have morphed into anger and resentment, aimed at both Alan and yourself,” she says. “That being said, it’s not healthy to dwell on any of those feelings, which you already know. You must acknowledge them, process them, and move on. Accept that’s how things were then and that you get to choose for them to be different now. You’re a single woman who repressed her sexual side for many years, and now you can relearn how to be empowered in your body and in your sexuality. Even if that means you’re someone who has one-night stands.”
Her eyes twinkle as she says that last part. This is why I always loved seeing Dr. Gupta: she’s wise and patient and understanding, plus she has a way of putting you at ease and making you feel like you’re talking to a friend. I only stopped seeing her because it felt like we came to a natural ending in our professional relationship, but I see now I could benefit from regular sessions with her.
“Since you currently have all this free time on your hands, my advice is to spend some of it shamelessly doing the things you enjoy. You don’t have to answer to anyone except yourself for the next few weeks, so enjoy that. Remember the inner child work we did a few years ago? Get in touch with Little Joss again to see what would make her happy. Explore hobbies and activities you never had time for previously. Join a local class or sign up for an online course in something that tickles your fancy.”
I take a few slow sips of my coffee, giving myself a minute to process everything she’s said. She seems to understand I need time because she picks up her own mug of matcha and holds it for a long moment before taking a drink.
“It’s a lot to take in,” I finally say.
“Take as long as you need,” Dr. Gupta says. “And in the meantime, don’t be afraid to lean on the people around you. I know you’ve had some bad experiences with people befriending you with ulterior motives, but not everyone is like that. You seem to have made some strong connections in Honeywell. Continue letting those people in if it feels right. This could be a good opportunity for you to cultivate new relationships, even if you’re not staying in Honeywell. Figuring things out and learning more about yourself doesn’t have to be a solitary journey, Josslyn. You might be surprised by what you learn about yourself by letting others in.”
I feel considerably lighter after disconnecting my call with Dr. Gupta. She promised to have her secretary phone me to set up regular appointments. Despite feeling like our therapy sessions came to a natural close a few years ago, I also let Alan’s influence stop me from continuing. He never understood mental health was as important as physical health, and often made jokes about how only ‘crazy people’ saw professionals. Never mind the fact there are a myriad of reasons people seek help, and all of them are completely valid.
As Dr. Gupta said, now is my time to make decisions without other people’s influence, and one of my decisions is to have her assist me through this transitional phase of my life.
I ponder what Dr. Gupta said about connecting with my inner child and shamelessly doing things that bring me pleasure. When I think of recent pleasurable things, my mind automatically goes to Liam. I’m not sure my decisions should be hormone fueled, though. Next in mind is Rex; I never could have imagined I’d have so much in common with an eight-year-old boy, and yet I do. Plus he’s an absolute joy to be around, and the more time I spend with him the more he brings out the playful, childlike side of me I’d nearly forgotten existed.
With that in mind, I call Mae, deciding to bypass Rex’s sexy uncle and avoid sending my hormones haywire. As luck would have it, she was scheduled for Rex duty after school and was happy to let me take over.
“Actually, you know what?” Mae says when I ask if she wants me to meet her in town to get Rex. “As of today, I have a new recruit at Sweet Escapes to help out through the Christmas rush, which means I can finally take a bit of a step back and have a life outside the café again. Why don’t I pick up Rex after all and you meet us at my place? I’ve been wanting to have you over for dinner, and this would be the perfect opportunity.”
“Don’t you want to take advantage of your time off and actually rest and relax?” I ask. “Maybe order in or something so you don’t have to cook? I’d offer to cook for you, but you want to enjoy your night off and not deal with food poisoning.”
She lets out a guffaw. “Cooking relaxes me, and having love and laughter in the house makes things…easier. We need that levity now.”
I think of what Liam told me last weekend about Mr. Murphy’s cancer being terminal. I have a feeling Mae is one of those people who keeps going no matter what. It could be a way to avoid the enormity of the situation or, perhaps like with Liam, it’s because she functions best when she’s busy and helping others. Maybe it’s both.
“Besides,” Mae says, “Seamus keeps asking when he’s going to meet you. I guess Liam, Rex, and I talk about you more often than I realized.”
The thought warms my heart. “In that case, I accept your gracious invitation. What can I bring?”