I simply nodded, because even all these years later, I didn’t feel like mentioning that at the start of that final evening, I was the one with my father’s handgun.

Dr. Frank asked me more questions. I stuck with basic answers and we continued our dance. It occurred to me that, given the timeline, he and I were approaching our silver anniversary. I wondered if I should get him something. An engraved plate, maybe an heirloom-quality picture frame. Dr. Frank was one of the longest relationships I’d ever had. I wasn’t sure what to make of that.

At the end of the hour, he surprised me again, reverting to the direct probing from the beginning of our session. “Do you feel your life is a success?” he asked me.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you feel your life is a success? Come, now, Danielle. You’re a grown woman, well educated, with an admirable career. Do you feel your life is a success?”

I had to think about it. “I think I’ve made a difference in many children’s lives,” I said finally. “I’m happy about that.”

“And these sessions? Our relationship? Has that made a difference in your life?”

“I am not sure I would’ve made it otherwise,” I said, which is probably true. At least close enough.

He nodded his head, seemed content. He shuffled some paper. “You should know I’ll be retiring at the end of the year.”

“Really?”

He smiled now, gesturing to his silver hair. “I’ve long been driven by my profession. It’s time to be driven by my hobbies instead. At least according to my wife.”

I tried to picture some Mrs. Dr. Frank, ordering him to hang up his hat, and that made me smile back. “Well, congratulations.”

“You are always welcome to call,” he said gravely.

“Thank you.” We both knew I wouldn’t. This relationship needed an end. His retirement provided a graceful exit for both of us.

“Danielle,” he said as I start to rise, “I worry about you.”

The admission astonished me, and for an instant, I could tell it had shocked him. He recovered quickly. “I believe we can agree there are aspects of your history you have yet to adequately acknowledge.”

I didn’t say anything.

“I have a colleague I’d be happy to recommend. A woman. Perhaps you’d be more comfortable with a female doctor—”

“No, thank you.”

“These next few days will be hard.”

“I’ll get through. I always do.”

“Have you considered staying with your aunt?”

“She has her own mourning to do.”

“You give each other strength.”

“Not this time of year.”

He sighed, appeared defeated. “Please watch the drinking.”

“I will.” Tomorrow afternoon, I’d watch my arm come up, I’d watch the drink go down.