The set up for the Support Group looked much like the way support groups looked on TV. A circle of chairs, some refreshments to the side along a wall, and a little dark inside with some artificial light that was wholly unflattering.
Buffy took a step inside, feeling suddenly quite nervous. She’d been gung ho about it before, but now she felt as if the room was going to swallow her whole.
Making eye contact with a woman across the room that smiled at her shyly, Buffy knew she had to do this. Ironically enough, the room itself was like the cave Buffy wanted to get out of. But, beggars couldn’t be choosers now could they?
Her eyes darted around the room, searching for a place to sit. Choosing a chair sort of in the corner and away from others inhabiting a few seats, she sat, placing her purse primly on her lap and surveyed the people in milling about.
“Hello,” a male voice said, startling her.
She looked up to see a tall man with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes surveying the room as well. He was dressed comfortable in jeans, loafers and a button down striped shirt. “Hi,” she greeted him.
“First time, huh?” he observed, still not looking at her.
“Yes, um, how long has this been going on for?”
“As long as there’s been divorce I imagine,” he said and chuckled. Now he looked down at her and studied her. “What’s your story?”
Buffy grumbled. “Too long to tell.”
“Can I guess?”
“Sure,” she said and waved for him to ‘bring it on’.
“Husband left you.”
“Isn’t that the way it usually is?”
He quirked a brow, “You’d be surprised.”
“Most common though, right?”
He nodded and sat down next to her, “Yes, it is. Usually though it’s a man leaving for a younger model. You seem like the younger model a man would leave his wife for though. I’m feeling there’s more to the story.”
“There is,” Buffy said, nodding.
“But you don’t want to tell me?”
She sighed, “It’s complicated.”
“They usually are.” He stuck out his hand, “I’m Lorne, by the way. I’m the one running the group.”
Her eyes widened. “You’re the therapist?”
He grinned, “Don’t look like your normal, run of the mill therapist do I?”
She smiled, “Not really. You look so . . . so . . . “
“I believe the word you’re looking for is relaxed,” he said, grinning.
“Yes, that’s it.”
He shrugged, “I find suits to give off the image of being stuffy and too professional, if you know what I mean. I want everyone to feel comfortable enough to talk to me. If they feel comfortable to talk, then it makes the healing process that much easier.”
“Good thinking.”
”Don’t have a degree for nothing. Your name?”
“Elizabeth, well, everyone calls me Buffy.”
“Buffy huh? I like that. How’d you hear about this Buffy?”
“Flyer on a corkboard outside my work.”
“Where do you work?”
“Travel agency.”
He studied her again, “You don’t like it?”
Her eyes widened, “How do you know that?”
“Well, did I tell you that I’m studying to be a psychic as well?”
She laughed, “No. Really?”
“Yep, and I could tell by the wrinkle of your nose. Bet you didn’t even know you did it, did you?”
She sat back, relaxed, “I didn’t.”
“See? I pay attention,” he said proudly and tapped his nose. “So, since you’re new, are you ready to spill your guts to a roomful of strangers?”
She laughed nervously, “I don’t know if I’m ready to do that.”
“Well, Buffy, nothing ventured, nothing gained. You’re here for a reason and I’m assuming that reason is not to meet single men – ooh, now that’s interesting.”
”What?”
“Your nose wrinkled again. You hate men now huh? Considering becoming a lesbian? If so, I know a really nice one—“
“No,” she shook her head, “Not becoming a lesbian. I just . . . I don’t trust a lot of men at this point in time. I don’t trust period at this point in time I guess I should say.”
“That husband of yours did a number huh?”
“Well, not just him.”
“There is a story buried in there. Tell you what; you don’t have to get into everything tonight. If you want to do a brief summary, that’s fine, but you have to promise one thing.”
“What’s that?” she asked warily.
“You and I talk one – on—one and you promise to come back next week.”
“How do you know you want me to come back next week?”
He grinned mysteriously, “I told you about the psychic bit, right?” Then he stood, “All right ladies and gents, let’s get this underway, shall we?”
*************
Listening to the stories of others in the room, Buffy wasn’t so much surprised as she was relieved to learn that she was not alone. And, after hearing some of the horror stories, well, Angel could have been a lot worse. She got off easy compared to some. It didn’t negate what she was going through, or rather, went through, but at least he’d never hit her.
Just lied to her. Constantly.
When Lorne introduced her, Buffy felt her standard blush of being in the spotlight coming on, but she knew she had to share. Getting it out to a bunch of strangers was in some way empowering; as if she were allowing herself to be justified for feeling so dysfunctional and angry. And she realized that she needed to hear what someone else thought. She was tired of hearing her mother’s voice in her head, of hearing Spike’s – of hearing her own. She wanted to hear from someone else what they thought and what they would do, because honestly, she was fresh out of ideas.
She didn’t have to stand, thank God, so she waved to everyone shyly and, cheeks flaming she launched into the Cliff’s Notes version of her marriage.
“Basically,” she began, “My story is, I was married to what I thought was this great guy that I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with, but, as it turns out, he was secretly holding a torch for a love he had back in high school that he apparently never got over. He cheated on me once with a woman at work and I found out about it and we worked it out – sort of – but years later he met up with his old high school flame and one morning, ran off with her. He’s off in California now, with a brand spanking new life and here I am, with a brand spanking new life of my own, except I’m not quite sure what to do with it. I tried moving forward and having a relationship with someone new and it was great for a while, but then I found out recently that he too, lied to me. I’m angry at the world, I’ve come to realize. I’m angry and miserable and I feel as though I’m stuck in this rut that I feel I’ll never get out of. I feel like I’m living in a dark, dank cave and I know the shiny happy people are out there, but I can’t seem to get to them.”
She looked around the room at the people watching her. Their looks surprised her. There wasn’t judgment, there wasn’t anyone looking at her as if she had two heads – no, they looked at her in understanding as if they knew and could sympathize with her. It was simply startling to discover that she needed that. She needed someone to just understand. Spike had listened to her vent about Angel, but he was quick to dismiss him as a ‘wanker’ and never quite got how destroyed she felt when Angel had left and told her he never loved her. Spike always wanted to bring the conversation to them, to him and how good he was compared to Angel. He never quite got it, which was odd considering he of all people should understand what it felt like to pine for someone. After all, hadn’t he done the same with her that she’d been doing with Angel?
The woman next to her, the one who had smiled at her when she’d arrived, patted her arm and smiled comfortingly. “It’s okay. We’re all here to help.”
Buffy smiled, feeling that for once, in her greatly fucked up life, she had made a right decision. Such a small step and yet such a large weight was lifting. Just like that.
“Well, time’s up for this week. Next week, same bat time, same bat channel. Good night everyone, good session,” Lorne announced and stood.
“My name is Tara,” the woman next to her said, her hand still on Buffy’s arm. “It was nice to meet you Buffy. You’ll be back next week, right?”
Buffy smiled, nodding profusely. “You bet.”
Tara smiled, braver now, “Good. See you then.”
Buffy stood, feeling good, no, feeling great. She turned to find Lorne standing right in front of her, his head to the side.
“As you can imagine,” he started, “I’ve got loads of questions.”
Buffy grinned, “I know.”
“So, care to join me for a drink?”
“Lorne, I don’t –“
“Now, now, you promised.”
“Well, yeah, but—“
“Would it help if I told you I was gay and therefore had no design on you whatsoever?”
She narrowed her eyes and raised her brows, “That true?”
He raised a hand as if making a pledge. “Gayer than the day is long.”
She laughed, “All right then. I’ll get that drink with you.”
“Perfect. I know the perfect dive.”
“Can I just ask you something?”
“Sure.”
”Why me?”
“It’s my calling. When anyone comes in here looking as if they’re carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders, I want to help. You, my dear, are far too young and beautiful to be carrying a weight that large on your shoulders.”
Buffy smiled, “You’re gay?”
“My hand to God. Or not, since he’s not so much in love with the homo’s now is he?”
Buffy laughed, “Depends on who you talk to.”
Offering her his arm, Buffy slid hers into his and smiled up at him.
“This is the start of a beautiful friendship,” Lorne said and escorted her out of the room.
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Author's Chapter Notes:
Thank you to everyone who is sticking with this story