Page 70 of The Last Session

Moon looked at me. “Mom. Come here.”

I took a few hesitant steps towards them.

“You need to talk to your son,” Moon said.

I knew exactly what she wanted me to say. “It’s not your fault.” I took a deep breath. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You were just a little kid.”

Moon nodded, her eyes glittering.

“But he made everything so hard.” Sol’s voice was ragged. “This little monster, justwantingall the time. Wanting all her energy, her attention. He just wouldn’t stop.”

“He’s a child,” Moon yelled. “That’s how it works.” She looked atRamit, whose quiet sobs had faded into shuddering breaths. “And Ramit had absolutely nothing to do with her suicide attempt. That’s not something a child should be blamed for.Ever.”

Suicide attempt?Mikki’s mouth fell open. Dawne’s and Karen’s eyes were wide.

“Ramit.” Sol raised his hands in supplication. “I’m sorry. I was in a bad place. Trying to keep everything together. But I never should’ve put that on you.” He pulled Ramit into a bear hug.

Moon gave me a slight nod.

“I’m sorry too.” The words came easily, like I was reading lines. “I wasn’t able to get the help I needed, and it affected you, and I wish it hadn’t.”

Moon guided me towards them, and Sol brought me into the hug. The three of us breathed one another’s breaths, our heads close together.

Ding.Slowly, we pulled back.

“Good work.” Moon stood with her hands on her hips, nodding approvingly, like she was overseeing a home improvement project. “Let’s break. We’ll regroup for dinner. Ramit and Thea, please stay here.”

29

Quietly blindsided, I watched as Jonah, Dawne, Mikki, and Karen filed out. Dawne threw a last look back at Moon and Sol, maybe because she hadn’t had her postsession processing time like everyone else. But she slipped out too.

I settled onto a cushion, my chest still swirling with emotions: the sad, achy feeling now overlaid with a bright splash of surprise. How had Moon and Sol known about Ramit’s mother’s suicide attempt? I was assuming it wasn’t public knowledge.

The rest could be attributed to intuition and therapy practices. I knew I hadn’t channeled Ramit’s mother; Moon had been gently nudging me so that I’d known what to say. And the heavy sorrow? That was simple induction and projective identification. Clients could unconsciously place their difficult feelings inside of you like sticking a bag of rocks in your lap. If a therapist wasn’t aware of it, they could get caught up in it, thinking the feeling (fear, rage, disgust) was their own. In this session, Ramit had unknowingly transferred his own despondency to me.

“That was wild.” Ramit raised his eyes to Sol. “You soundedjustlike him. How’d you do that?”

Sol settled beside him. “I tap into the energy. I sounded like him?”

“I mean, without the accent, but yes.”

“Thea.” Sol turned to me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m good.” The sadness was melting away. I needed to get answers from Moon and Sol, but maybe not in front of Ramit.

“You both did such an amazing job.” Moon sat so close that her spiced rose scent was cloying. “I’m so impressed.”

Her praise pleased me, despite my determination to remain distanced. There was something about Moon’s approving gaze that felt warm as sunlight.

“Ramit,” she went on. “I applaud you opening up. I know it’s not easy to feel exposed like that.”

“Yeah, it was…” He chuckled. “Supremely uncomfortable.”

“That shows we’re getting into those deep places.”

“So what happens now?”

“Good question.” Sol clapped his shoulder. “Now we have a great jumping-off point for your one-on-one tomorrow.”