Page 18 of Sorry, Not Sorry

‘What happened next?’ With Sigmund curled up on his lap, Arne sat back in his chair, his blue eyes bright with interest.

Delilah stared silently at the patterned rug on the floor, too humiliated to recount the intense guilt and the self-disgust she had experienced during her exchange with Kwame.

‘Were you able to make peace with him?’

Delilah looked up to meet Arne’s gaze and gave a half-shrug, pulling her legs up under her in the cocoon of the armchair. It was only their second therapy session, and Delilah had already forgotten her game plan involved not giving away any more information than was necessary to get her job back.

‘We talked for a while. I let him vent and took all the blame and explained I was the one with commitment issues. In the end, I think he was just desperate to get rid of me. But yes, he said the magic words. So, I’m forgiven, apparently – even though he clearly still hates me.

’ To her horror, her voice cracked, and she rubbed her hands over her face as she tried to regain control.

‘I do believe there is a path to redemption if someone makes amends and takes accountability, but Delilah, let me ask you again. Are you seeking this redemption for your own purposes or for the sake of those you have wronged?’ Arne’s neutral tone conveyed no judgement, and Delilah fixed her gaze on the slumbering cat while she considered the question.

She hadn’t seen Kwame in ten years, and yet there was no denying the pain she had seen in his eyes.

‘You know, at first, Salome’s stupid challenge was just a big gesture to convince Polly I’ve become much more self-aware about my behaviour.

But after seeing Des and Kwame, I’m starting to realise just how badly I’ve hurt other people and then not given them a second thought.

’ Delilah shook her head and returned her gaze to the rug.

‘Sal warned me to take this seriously, and it’s so clear I’ve got work to do. ’

‘You often talk about your sister,’ Arne observed, ‘but you don’t mention other family members. Can you tell me a bit about your family?’

Startled, Delilah jerked her head up and she looked at him guardedly. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Well, in therapy we explore our past so we can improve our present. Tell me about your mother. Are the two of you close?’

Delilah hesitated. ‘We were, but she died when I was seventeen.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Losing a mother is very painful at any age but even more difficult, I imagine, when one is so young. What about your father?’

‘He’s dead, too,’ she said shortly. ‘It’s just Salome and me – and Farhan and the kids, of course.

’ Eager to change the subject, Delilah straightened her legs and bent to stroke Sigmund, who had left the comfort of Arne’s lap and was slinking past her chair.

He responded to her half-hearted attempt to pet him with a disdainful miaow and hopped into his blanket-lined basket.

Arne waited until he had her full attention and then continued. ‘I’m sure you learned about attachment theory and styles in your studies, so you will know that our early childhood can shape how we subsequently build relationships, yes?’

Delilah nodded dumbly, and Arne went on.

‘Then you appreciate that childhood experiences can help us understand why we might choose to invest less emotion into a relationship or indeed put emotional distance between ourselves and our partner to avoid getting hurt. As adults, we often model our approach to relationships on what we saw as children – or indeed, what we didn’t see.

What do you recall of your parents’ relationship? ’

She drew in a sharp breath and balled her fists. Relax, it’s okay . You can do this . Her lips felt as stiff as cardboard, but she forced her voice to sound normal. ‘The usual married couple ups and downs, I suppose… Mum really loved being married.’

‘Tell me more.’ Arne pressed his fingertips together, his head tilted to the side attentively.

Delilah nodded, but when she tried to speak, her breathing suddenly felt shallow.

She could feel her pulse racing and she pushed her hair back from her face, fighting the overwhelming urge to jump out of the chair and run from Arne’s office.

She took in several deep breaths before she could trust herself to continue.

‘Th – they went to school together. He asked her out when they were fifteen and they stayed together until – until the end.’

As if sensing her distress, Arne moved on. ‘You mentioned earlier your realisation that you have hurt people’s feelings but then not given them a second thought. Why do you think that is?’

At the change in topic, the pounding in Delilah’s chest began to ease, and intensely relieved, she answered before she could catch herself.

‘I don’t remember bad things that happen – or at least I’ve learned not to.

So, it’s surprising to me that other people don’t do the same.

I was shocked when I realised how upset Kwame still is with me even though it’s been years since we were together.

And Des—’ She broke off and shook her head.

Delilah hadn’t dared admit, even to Salome, just how desperately remorseful she’d felt after her encounter with Desmond, and how hypocritical she’d felt for criticising clients like Ross for not pulling their emotional weight.

‘What about Desmond?’

‘He looked so incredibly hurt when he asked me why I’d left him. It’s beyond ironic that I dare to give people advice about their relationships when I’ve messed up so many of my own.’ Her eyes welled up as a wave of sadness engulfed her.

There was a long silence, and then Arne said gently, ‘That’s a big step, Delilah. Let’s stop there for today.’