Page 53 of Scarlet Vows

“My point is, each journey is unique. And guilt and all those negative things are part of healing, but they can also become crutches, or poison. I don’t think that’s your case. I know how much you loved Max, and everything you told meleads me to believe that if, after two years, someone else stirs your soul, he’d be happy.”

“I…”

Carol smiles gently. “Having feelings for someone doesn’t lessen what you had with Max. One day, you’ll see it only enhances it. Every time you smile and feel genuine happiness, a part of you will know it’s because Max gave you those special blocks to build on.”

“I don’t want to lose him.”

“You won’t,” Carol says. “Even if you don’t actively think of him every day, or even picture him clearly without looking at a photo, you’ll remember. You’ll know him. He’s part of you. And the beauty of being a big bag of complicated in a complicated world means there’s plenty of room for others, as well as Max.”

It hurts. Her words rip strips from me. I want to believe her. Parts of me do, but other parts are so scared, so overcome with guilt about this thing inside that keeps blooming for Ilya, that I don’t know what to do.

“Nothing and no one can take Max from you. I promise you that.”

I bite my lip. “I know. But knowing and truly believing are two different things.”

“Says every single human since before recorded history. That’s one thing I’ll stand behind. What you’re feeling are growing pains. You’re moving beyond the grief. It’s going to be there somewhere inside, healthy, small, yours, but love and happiness from Max will spread wider, and that’s going to open you up to new things.”

“But the guilt…”

“Is normal. All your feelings are. And it’s going to take time to feel right about moving on. I think that’s part of the guilt. You’re not quite ready, but when you are, you’ll know.You deserve to take the time to get to the right place to feel right about moving on and opening yourself up to love again.

“If this man’s right for you, he’ll understand.”

I nod. The thing is, I know Ilya will understand. He’d understand anything when it came to me. And if I asked him to give me a chance, and to also wait, he’d wait.

Forever.

I don’t know if he feels the same way. He said he doesn’t, but there’s a glimmer. A spark. The way we click both scares and makes me hope.

So yes, if he felt even a spark for me, he’d wait.

Would it be fair to make him wait, especially if that thing he’d be waiting for may not be something I’m able to give?

When the session ends, I’m not sure how I feel. Good, because Carol makes me see things more clearly, and she gives permission to be me and feel what I feel. But I’m confused. The crushing guilt is still here, the sadness, and also the hope and the feelings that are blooming for Ilya, which then all circle back into the guilt. Like Carol said, I’m on some kind of looping road.

Shaking it off, I go to meet Isla for coffee since she has the day off. Maize is with her, and she flies into my arms to tell me all about her morning in her playgroup, the bad boy who is mean and pulls her hair, and then how she’s going to be a flying doctor one day.

“Really?”

“Yes, Alina.” Her gaze hits the display cabinet, and she turns it back to me. “Cookie?”

“Can we have four of the big choc chip cookies, please?” I ask, handing my phone to Isla so she can use it to pay.

When we walk, Maize drapes herself on me, spilling cookie crumbs everywhere as her mom hides the cookie bag in her purse and carries the coffees.

The moment we hit the park, Maize perks up and demands, “Down! Down!”

I set her down, and she tears off to play with the other kids, her half-munched cookie in my hand.

“I’ll take that.” Isla eats it, then hands me my coffee. “It’s how moms get most of their meals.”

“It’s gross.”

“It’s life. You haven’t seen Erin do that.”

I glance at her. “I’m not sure Magda would allow it.”

We both chuckle.