“A therapist won’t make the choice for you, but they might help you on the road to that choice. It’s your call and I won’t force you, but I really think it’s for the best. One of my old college friends, Steve Herkin, is a therapist. I see him from time to time, but not very much. I think he’d do a favor for a high school girlfriend, he would make a nice price.”

“I can’t do that, ms Kennard. I can’t live on your connections.”

“Not seeing a therapist won’t kill you, it’ll only make your life harder. I’m suggesting this because I think it would do you good. Let me just talk to him and see what I can do?”

Bette slumped her shoulders. “Okay.”

“You know, Bette, it isn’t a shame to see one. I saw one too, when I was your age.”

The brunette looked up in surprise. “Oh? Why? If you don’t mind me asking – I completely understand if it’s too personal and you don’t feel comfortable sharing it with me,” she quickly added.

“No, I can tell you. I just would appreciate it if you kept it to yourself.”

“Naturally.”

Tina took a deep breath. “When I was 18 years old, my father died. It was the night of my graduation. He was running a bit late and I was nervous, my mom was already there – they were divorced. I had called him to ask him if he was almost there, it was about to start and I didn’t want him missing a single second of it.” Tears were welling up, she looked down to the ground and whispered. “Little did I know he’d miss the entire thing.”

She took a deep breath. “Anyway, after having received my phone call, he hurried like mad to get there. He didn’t see the car coming, I think. They say he died instantly. Frontal crash.”

“I’m so sorry,” Bette said softly, not knowing what she should say.

Tina wiped some tears away, but to no avail. “And my last words to him… god, my last words… ‘Hurry up, Dad, if you miss it I won’t ever forgive you.’”

Bette put her hand on ms Kennard’s arm in a clumsy attempt to comfort her. “I’m really sorry, ms Kennard.”

Tina tried to dry her tears and then said: “I went to a therapist and it really helped me. I won’t deny that I still cry over it and I will forever feel guilty about it, but talking to my therapist has helped me to not let it take over my life. I could accept myself again, live with myself again.”

“So what was his name?”

Tina smiled. “Guy Herkin. Steve’s dad. We had broken up by then. But I’m sure the son will be as good as the dad – who is retired, before you ask if maybe you could see him.”

Bette frowned. How the hell had she read her thoughts?