The Unkindness
Trigger warnings: None Word Count: 2165 Author’s Notes: At LONG LONG long last, the story continues! Thank you all for being so patient as I work through my writer's block, I hope you enjoy this new chapter!
CHAPTERS hit and miss. | The Unkindness
“Do you feel as though you deserve the way you’re being treated?”
“... do I feel like I deserve it? What kinda question is that?”
“One I believe to still be necessary - simply to understand your perspective and response to her attitude towards you. Feelings change, and talking about what they tell you now will help, Theo.”
We’ve tread over the same ground so many times it feels like it’s the only path we’re able to take any more. In spite of all the times she insists that all choices and habits are a dirt road, conflict and bitterness are the only things in my life that are set in stone - and for want of a chisel, I’m forced to watch the picture of stability erode in front of me.
It’s getting harder to believe that a good therapist can fix that for me.
“I mean… shouldn’t it be obvious?” I huff. “I’ve been trying for God knows how long to better myself, but it means nothing to her. I went into my new job thinking I could stop being… haunted by the shit I’d done, and the road I thought I’d take. I really wanted to believe I could start over… and then she turns up. Every second we’re around each other, more and more of the progress I thought I made just… doesn’t register with her. It’s like I’ve always been the same person. Feelings change, yeah, but… people don’t. Not to her, and there’s no fuckin’ way she’s gonna stop thinkin’ of evil when she sees me.”
The silence is broken only by the gentle stroking of a pen against paper. I’ve gotten so used to it that I hardly even notice it at times, between the glare of those green eyes behind her glasses, framed by straight, perfectly-groomed ginger hair. Even the way her unchanging expression sits upon her umber skin feels like the cold, harsh judgement of a god I abandoned long ago at times.
“Remind me; how long has this been going on for, now?”
I was just about to ask that, actually - how long have we been stuck on this bullshit?
“Since we met again. Six, seven months ago. I didn’t even recognise her at first, ‘cause of the whole-”
No. For all the things in the past I need to dwell on, the one thing that doesn’t matter is who she was.
“-nah, forget it, that’s the one thing I’ve never had an issue with. Her new identity was the easiest thing for me to adjust to, and, like- despite why I’m here, I’m happy for her, y’know? I just wish she hadn’t decided to bitch-slap me with her robot arm when all I wanted was to try and say hi.”
I’m only left to wonder if the scratching of her pen is any indication that being bitch-slapped was something of note.
“And your boss?” she asks. “What’s he had to say about all this?”
“That’s the thing - he hasn’t said anything. Whenever we’re in the room together, he just tries to keep us apart. At the very least, he keeps an eye on us… but, right now he’s hardly even around to do that.”
“Your workplace keeps him busy?”
“Nah. Right now, he’s training for some kind of marathon for the charity we sponsor, so I’m holdin’ down the fort. I’ve only ever got the chance to talk to him about this whole Alex situation once, and all he told me was, like… that he’s tryin’ to keep things neutral between us ‘til we, just… start getting along. Like he expects it to be fuckin’ magic. Like some day, this black and white bullshit we got between us is suddenly gonna become some shade of grey.”
All I can muster is a scoff at my own recollection.
“… least this way, things aren’t as bland between us. Even if I wish she’d ask me the fuck I’m doing every now and then, instead of standing there in silence whenever I’m the one behind the counter.”
I hear her take a deep breath, tutting as she sets the book down. Oh, god. The only time she does that is when she’s about to lecture me. Her position on the seat shifts, her back straightens up. She’s getting ready to write. A lot.
“If that’s the attitude you take towards the dilemma, things are never going to improve. You claim to want peace between the two of you, or at the very least tolerance, yet in the same breath you state how much you thrive on the conflict between you. You still thrive on instability, when we both know you’re years past being in a situation where that was your norm.”
Even now, her words cut into me like a razor, and carve my mentality into neat, easily-definable segments. The time of my life where I whored myself out for a quick buck and a good high poisons me like a bullet stuck in my chest, her constant reminders of my own failures in coping making old wounds burn and fester.
“If positivity is too far off for the moment, it would be a good first step to at least accept neutrality. In that way, I think Souji has a point. Bland as you may see it, Theo, making an effort to create that shade of grey he envisions is the best first step - as long as you both make an effort towards it. Tell me; can you recall any recent events involving Alex that weren’t negative?”
That’s why. Somehow, she must know I have an answer to this. Am I slipping too much? I must have hesitated - and now she demands to know why, for once, I am.
“... actually, yeah. It was my birthday last month, and, uh… she stopped me as I got out of work. And… you remember I tried to talk to her when she was in the café on her birthday? It turns out she thought about what I said. She got me some stuff, like… a dog toy, a shirt, some whiskey—”
That bottle’s still sitting half-empty back home. There’ll be less when this is over.
“—but she told me that it didn’t change anything. Just that she was showing me common decency, or whatever. Which… I guess is a step in the right direction?”
Her eyebrows raise for a moment as the scribbling continues. That’s a rarer one - reserved for the times I say something, anything that’s at all indicative of progress. That fleeting high, the only one I bother to chase nowadays.
“That’s good, Theo.” And all of a sudden, the tension in my body dissipates. Every freckle of hers grins at me like a god who’s finally listened. “It does sound as though she still has her reservations; though, again, she has every right to. It’s a good sign that she’s making an effort to treat you with civility, and admitting to thinking about your efforts to get closer to her.” She pauses, leaning forward with a gaze I can only describe as expectant. “One that deserves to be reciprocated.”
“I know. And I would, but… I don’t know how. I’ve tried… but the truth is that I don’t have the first fuckin’ clue."
The admission pours from my lips with all the friction and pain of hot tar from the throat. My fingers dig into the forgiving plushness of a spare cushion on the seat, teeth clenching themselves so tightly they threaten to shatter to dust.
“The truth is… all this time, I haven’t even been making an effort. Even before today… I spent so much time making an enemy out of her that I didn’t bother to learn who she even was, or what even mattered to her. Everything she reached for back then, everything she had the strength to hold on to… sources of happiness for her, but… they were just fucking targets to me. I got my kick out of being better than her, by being above the things she liked. And now… she doesn’t even let those things show around me any more. She doesn’t put her trust in anyone.
It’s my fault she’s like that. One act of tolerance, one fuckin’ trophy gesture of bein’ the bigger person… it’s not gonna change the fact that, at the end of the day, we'll just go back to hating each other. That’s the way it’ll be for as long as we know each other, and refuse to acknowledge what’s wrong with us.”
It’s rare when she doesn’t have an immediate response to that - stuff that I’d be all too quick to boil down to self-pity. More scribbling fills the silence, dying down as the tension in my hand that balls itself into the cushion starts to ease itself away. The same expression of flawless neutrality remains on her face, her hand rising from the notepad to push her glasses up onto her face.
“You’ve done well,” she praises again - the words sinking into my heart in a way so distantly familiar, but so alien at the same time. “In that you’ve acknowledged your role as a bully has had a longer-lasting impact than you’ve anticipated. Although I would normally remind someone in your situation that someone like Alex has no right to forgive you, or give you a second chance in their life considering what you did… it appears that Alex is considerably more lenient, despite appearances.”
Again, I find myself questioning whether a novelty dog toy and a bottle of booze sure to be wasted on thoughts of her is truly considered kindness.
“However, I believe the time for ruminating on your situation is long past. You had the right idea in approaching her about the way you feel at first, and now you understand that she’s at least willing to extend an olive branch. The momentum you’ve built with her can only carry you forward, now - all you have to do is find an opportunity to talk t-”
Bzzzzzzt! Bzzzzzzt!
“Ah- one moment. Perhaps we’ve run over time.”
Her phone rattles against the wooden desk at the other end of the room, calling out among the bookshelves surrounding it. I use the opportunity as her stout form rises from the chic white stool to check my own phone…
“You’ve reached the office of Dr. Hannile Lehtosaari.”
Shit, we’re way past time. Who knew progress would chew up so much of my schedule?
“Ah, it’s good to hear from you. You’ve caught me just at the end of another session, I’m afraid, but if there’s something I can help you with-”
This is getting awkward fast. Slowly, I rise from my seat, but she catches me, holding out a finger from her palm, before it retracts to grab a pen.
“I see. It’s alright, I’m happy to reschedule you. Can you do, let’s see… the Friday, same time that week?”
She’s calm as ever, but I’m standing here like a kid who’s watching his friend get yelled at during a playdate. It’s not like I have anywhere to be, but I’ve never liked sitting in this office for longer than I have to.
“Alright, I’ll reschedule you for then. I’ll have another client in for straight after, but I trust you’ll be brief.”
… I have to start wondering what Friday that is. Not like confidentiality will let her tell me anything about who I’ll catch on the way out. Probably another former drug addict, runaway fuckup like me, but what do I care?
“Perfect. I hope you and your brother have a nice time together otherwise. I’ll see you then! Take care, bye, bye.”
… maybe not a fuckup, then. Not if they still have family.
It isn’t much longer before she hangs up the phone and turns to me again, that same professional sternness washing over her features again like she’s putting on a mask.
“Well, Theo, I believe I’ve given you plenty to think about. Before our next session next week, I’d like you to consider a few ways you can help to build on this rapport you’ve begun to form with Alex, perhaps make a list of ideas on how to approach her, and reciprocate what you’ve received from her.”
Easier said than done. Even now, I remember her saying that she only did what she did to afford me a decency she was wrong to withhold. But what else is ‘wrong’ in her eyes? Everything I did, everything she knows me for was wrong. The friends I made were wrong, and the way it all ended was wrong.
When will kindness be the right path to take with her?
How many times do I have to tread that impossible rocky road for it to finally be walkable? Is it even worth puncturing my feet on the rocks of the hostility that’s all but justified?
… maybe I answered wrong. Maybe I deserve this after all.
Whatever. Same time next week.
