Chapter 10 - MARISA'S THERAPY
Marisa’s therapist did not diagnose love.
She examined attachment.
Why Daniel?
Because Daniel represented safety.
When Caroline died, Marisa lost her first attachment before she could remember it consciously.
The Carter family became everything.
Daniel was the oldest child.
He protected.
Explained.
Returned.
Then when Elena entered, Marisa experienced normal adult separation as abandonment.
The adoption discovery gave that fear a story:
Maybe I never belonged as his sister.
Then another:
Maybe I belonged differently.
That interpretation solved two pains at once.
It explained why she felt jealous.
And promised she could keep Daniel at the center permanently.
The therapist asked:
“Did you want Daniel as a partner, or did you want Elena not to have a claim you couldn’t match?”
Marisa became furious.
Then silent.
Weeks later:
“I don’t know.”
That was progress.
Obsession often feels like certainty.
Treatment made room for ambiguity.
Then came another question.
“What did you imagine would happen if Daniel believed you?”
Marisa stared.
“I thought he’d understand.”
“What?”
“That everything between us was different.”
“Different how?”
Marisa started crying.
“I don’t know.”
The therapist waited.
Finally:
“I thought he’d be relieved.”
“Relieved?”
“That we weren’t blood.”
There it was.
A private fantasy rehearsed for years.
Marisa admitted she had imagined Daniel reading the adoption decree and suddenly reinterpreting the relationship the way she had.
The therapist asked:
“What evidence did you have that he felt romantic attachment?”
Marisa opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Daniel protected her.
Called her.
Helped her.
Loved her.
As a brother.
Every memory she had used as proof already had a complete explanation.
Sibling attachment.
Marisa had not uncovered hidden romance.
She had overwritten one category with another because the second category promised escape from losing him.
That realization did not erase the feeling immediately.
It did something more important.
May you like
It made the feeling no longer sacred.
Something could feel powerful and still be wrong.
