Juliet watches me silently as I sit in the blue chair in her office. I take a bottle of Poland Spring, drink, and say, “I don’t have very much to say today.”

“You don’t? You missed last week.”

It’s not that I don’t have things to say. I don’t have the energy to say them. “Everything’s fine. Good. I mean, I even went shopping this weekend. For prom dresses.”

She stares at me with narrowed eyes as if she doesn’t believe me. “That’s great. You’re going to the prom?”

“Oh. No. I’m… You know. Moving on. Like I should be. Right?”

I thought that was the correct answer, but from the way she’s looking at me, it’s not.

“Yes. But what brought this about?” She flips through pages on her clipboard. “Last time we met, you were having some concerns about Declan’s death.”

I nod. “I don’t have them anymore. He killed himself.”

She seems surprised by my progress. She taps her pen on her pad. “And what brought you to that conclusion?”

Do I have to go into it? I’m not sure I can. Instead, I say, “I went through the box.”

“The box of things his mother gave you? So you found it therapeutic?”

I nod. She seems pleased, as though her suggestion has me on the path to recovery, and if she wants to think that, fine. I’m happy to increase her self-worth the way she thinks she’s increasing mine. “I found mementos from things he did with my best friend. My ex-best friend. And it made me remember things about him. He was cheating on me.”

“With”—she flips back some pages—“Luisa?”

“Yes. He had this whole secret life I knew nothing about, and so I guess I didn’t know him well. I spoke to his priest, and he told me that Declan had stopped going to church, and that he was one to harbor guilt and not let it out. Maybe he was suicidal. I can’t know what was going through his head, because I didn’t know him.” I swallow, pushing away memories that will only have me sobbing again.

“And?”

“And what? It hurts. But part of me feels like a weight has been lifted off me. I’d built him up in my head, thought he was so perfect. I was worried I wasn’t good enough for him. Now? I don’t know. It helps to know he was human.”

She smiles. “Well, that’s encouraging.”

“So, yes,” I say. “I’m not the person who knew him best. I didn’t know that he had a vengeful side. That he could sleep with someone to get even, then lie straight to my face about it.”

“You think that’s what he did?”