Chapter 22
Lucy wanted to stop therapy at thirteen.
Vittorio said no.
Immediately.
Dr. Bell looked at him.
Lucy did too.
“Why?”
“Because it helps.”
Lucy crossed her arms.
“You don’t know.”
“I see the difference.”
“That’s me.”
“Yes.”
“Not therapy.”
“That is impossible to separate.”
“Then how you know?”
He hated questions with no clean answer.
Dr. Bell intervened.
“Lucy, why do you want to stop?”
“Because I’m tired of being kid with breakfast story.”
Vittorio went still.
Dr. Bell waited.
Lucy continued.
“Every time something happens, Dad asks if it’s because Bianca.”
“That is not true.”
Lucy looked at him.
He stopped.
Maybe not every time.
Enough.
Bad appetite.
Fear of someone shouting.
Not wanting to eat at a formal event.
Not liking a woman Vittorio dated briefly.
He had learned to see trauma everywhere because missing it once had nearly destroyed him.
Lucy was tired of being interpreted through it.
Dr. Bell asked:
“What would stopping mean to you?”
“No weekly.”
“Never?”
Lucy thought.
“Maybe if I ask.”
That was different.
Vittorio disliked it anyway.
“She is thirteen.”
“Yes,” Dr. Bell said.
“She still needs support.”
“Support is not identical to weekly therapy.”
He looked at Lucy.
“You want to stop because it’s uncomfortable?”
“Sometimes.”
“That may be when it matters most.”
Lucy became angry.
“See?”
“What?”
“You think you know what my no means.”
That sentence landed.
Bianca had done that.
Lucy said no to Mom.
Bianca heard rejection.
Lucy cried.
Marcus heard manipulation.
Lucy wanted Vittorio.
Adults assigned motives until the child disappeared beneath explanation.
Vittorio sat back.
“Okay.”
Lucy looked suspicious.
“Okay what?”
“We ask Dr. Bell what a safe transition looks like.”
Not stop today.
Not force weekly forever.
The plan changed.
Every other week for two months.
Then monthly.
Then optional check-ins.
Lucy could request sooner.
Vittorio could raise concerns, but not secretly restart therapy around her.
That last provision offended him.
Dr. Bell added it anyway.
Six months passed.
Lucy requested one appointment after a class presentation unexpectedly included a photograph of a dog bowl in an animal-care lesson.
She felt ridiculous.
Dr. Bell told her she did not need a dramatic reason to return.
Then Lucy went another four months without an appointment.
Nothing collapsed.
Vittorio stopped monitoring whether therapy was working.
Mostly.
One evening he asked:
“You okay?”
Lucy looked up from homework.
“With what?”
“Everything.”
“That is huge question.”
“Fair.”
She thought.
“Yes.”
He nodded.
No follow-up.
Lucy looked surprised.
“You’re not asking if sure?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“You said yes.”
May you like
That answer mattered more at thirteen than it had at six.
Trust was beginning to work in both directions.
