Page 155 of The Ampersand Effect

“Are you rationalizing for my benefit or for yours?” Nadia asked flatly.

Nadia had this way of prodding her within millimeters of her sanity and her will—then somehow compelling her to uncover deep, internalized self-truths. Truths that, in the aftermath of their psychological dissections, felt so obvious that Tobin was astonished they hadn’t been self-evident from the start.

“You were ready to tell her last week. The words were literally on the tip of your tongue. She said it first—but does that make your feelings any less true? Any lessanything?”

Nadia paused, her eyes drifting up as she pondered her next statement. Tobin braced, versed enough in her therapist’s tics and tells to know that whatever was coming would be hard to hear. Or profound. Probably both.

“If your love is fickle enough to be withheld or altered because your plans to reveal it were disrupted, can you really say that you’re in love with her?”

The look Nadia gave Tobin wasn’t as abrasive as she’d expected— in fact, it was rather soft, especially by Nadia’s standards. The effect lessened Tobin’s instinctively defensive response.

Mildly.

Tobin caved to Nadia’s observations. She whined in frustration, the sound escaping as a scoff. Self-reflection was a buzzkill.

“Am I wrong? Like—I’m in love with her Nadia! Shouldn’t I be able to tell her that for the first time without it getting lost in the overwhelming sadness of loss?” She was getting upset, and her outburst was just the beginning.

Nadia sat back, resting her elbows on the arms of her chair, steepling her fingers and tapping the index fingers together. She had the presence of a mob boss—always with the upper hand and quietly enjoying the show as her constituents prostrated themselves before her benevolence. Tobin hated it.

“I’d argue that now is themostopportune time. She needs all the support she can get. Your confession shouldn’t be news to her, nor should it be a distraction. In fact, it should be the opposite— your love should bebolstering. It should reinforce her strengths and gild her against all the challenges surrounding her. Your mutual love should continually reinforce your individual strengths.

If you can’t withstand this trial so early in your relationship, how can you expect your love for each other to grow—much less endure any future trials?”

Nadia just looked at her. Like LoLo, she was waiting for Tobin to talk herself into her own answers.

Nadia was right. Tobin was dragging her feet out of fear. It wasn’t for Grier’s benefit that she hadn’t confessed her love. It was for her own.

But that didn’t make her feelings any less valid—did it? She didn’t want to give Grier her heart over the phone or through a text message. In the long-term, she knew they could figure out a way to cope with the memory of her admission coinciding with Jonah’s crisis. But in the short-term, Nadia was right again—Grier deserved all the support and love in the world right now.

Tobin’s shoulders slumped with the realization that she’d been withholding parts of those things—of those feelings—and, therefore parts ofherselffrom Grier, at the very moment she needed them most.

“I want to give her the space. And I want to be her safe space. And I want her to know I love her—and aminlove with her. I want all of those things to be true.”

Nadia dipped her head, leveling her gaze with Tobin’s. Tobin knew this would be her only indication that she was nearly there, following the breadcrumb clues of her own mind. She was on the precipice of self-discovery.

“It’s that fucking ampersand again. All the fuckingandsin the world. It’s who she is and… it’s theeffectshe has. That’s exactly what I want. I want all of herands, Nadia.”

Nadia sat forward, finally satisfied with Tobin’s admissions.

Now, maybe, they could find a solution.

“So what are you going to do about it?”

Or not. Fuck.

Tobin crossed her arms. She was irritated with Nadia’s misanthropic approach, and she wanted her to know it. “I don’t know, Nadia. That’s why I’m here.”

“Youdoknow. And you know you know it. You’re choosing fear instead of love. So fear is what you’ll keep, and love is what you’ll lose.”

Both of Nadia’s eyebrows were arched, and she gave a curt nod in Tobin’s direction.

“You’re never going to keep the love if you don’t let go of the fear, Tobin.”

A faint click was the only indication that Nadia’s words had registered with Tobin; she’d been clenching her teeth in frustration with her therapist’s intuitive assault, and her jaw clicked under the increasing pressure. A bolt of pain zigzagged from her jaw through her ear and settled behind her eye, whereit began to pulse. Now she had a headache—and she felt no closer to resolution with Nadia. Or, more accurately, with Grier.

Grier.

Grier and resolution.