Ari sat stiffly in the waiting room, her hands clutching her bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. She hadn't wanted to come. In fact, she'd spent the entire cab ride here debating whether to tell the driver to turn around. Therapy felt like admitting defeat, like she wasn't strong enough to handle her grief.

"Mrs.Perez?"

Ari looked up, startled, to see a woman standing in the doorway. She had kind eyes, the sort of eyes that made you feel like you didn't have to pretend.

"I'm Dr. Collins," the woman said softly. "Are you ready to come in?"

Ari wasn't ready—she wasn't even sure she'd ever be ready—but she nodded anyway. She followed Dr. Collins into a cozy office filled with warm light and soft furniture. It felt more like a living room than a clinical space, and that surprised her.

"Please, have a seat wherever you feel comfortable," Dr. Collins said, gesturing toward the chairs.

Ari chose the one closest to the window, her fingers instinctively reaching for the locket around her neck. It had become a lifeline these past few days, a small tether to her mother that she wasn't willing to let go of.

Dr. Collins sat across from her, her posture open and inviting. She didn't pick up a notebook or ask any probing questions. She simply waited, letting the silence stretch until Ari felt safe enough to speak.

"I don't know how to do this," Ari said finally, her voice tight. "I've never... done this before."

Dr. Collins nodded, her gaze steady. "That's okay. There's no right or wrong way to do therapy. This is your space, Ari. We'll go at your pace. Why don't we start with why you're here today?"

Ari hesitated, her fingers fumbling with the chain of her locket. Finally, she took a deep breath. "My mom died a little over a month ago." Her voice cracked on the word mom, and she felt tears sting her eyes. "I thought I was handling it, but... I'm not. I got over the fact that she's not coming back. I mainly came here because I just don't wanna completely lose myself..I have kids that need me."

Dr. Collins leaned forward slightly, her expression soft and compassionate. "I'm so sorry for your loss, Ari. Losing a parent is one of the hardest things we face. Tell me about her. What was she like?"

Ari swallowed hard, her chest tightening. "My mom was my everything. I grew up with my dad as well but he was super strict, hardly showed emotion and was gone for like 3 months of the year because of business. My mom was there for me almost every single day since the day I was born. When I got the job at Chanel, she told everyone she knew, like I was some kind of celebrity. She was my best friend. And now she's just... gone."

The tears came suddenly, spilling over before Ari could stop them. She pressed her hands to her face, ashamed of breaking down so quickly.

"I have 3 kids but I had my first daughter pretty young. Yes, my mom was disappointed but she never judged me, she supported me through everything. Even when my dad called me every name in the book, she always told me it would get better. She was my best friend."

Dr. Collins handed her a tissue. "Let it out, Ari. There's no need to hold it in here."

Ari took the tissue, dabbing at her eyes as she tried to compose herself. "It's just I can't stop thinking about the last time I saw her. She was sick for months before she even told me, then she was getting better. And then she was gone, and I didn't get to say goodbye the way I wanted to."

Dr. Collins let the silence settle before responding. "Grief often brings up regrets, Ari. But from everything you've said, it sounds like your mom knew how much you loved her. She sounds like she was proud of you in every way."

Ari's lip trembled. "She was. But I don't know how to do this without her. I'm back at work, but I feel like I'm drowning. Paris Fashion Week is coming up, and I have so much work to catch up on. But I'm falling apart, and no one knows."

Dr. Collins nodded. "You're carrying so much right now, Ari. The pressure of work, your grief, and the need to appear strong, it's a lot for one person. But you don't have to do it all alone. Have you shared how you're feeling with your family?"

Ari shook her head. "I can't. My husband..Kevin, he's been so amazing, he's so happy I'm speaking again. I just don't want him to have to worry too much about me anymore. I feel like after a while I start to become a burden."

"Oh no, you shouldn't feel that way at all." Dr. Collins said gently. "That's understandable. But showing your vulnerability can also be a way to connect. It's okay for your husband to see that you're struggling. It's okay for the kids to know that sadness is a normal part of life. You don't have to carry this alone."

Ari wiped another tear, her fingers instinctively brushing over the locket.

"Tell me more about your husband." Dr. Collins said softly, assuming it was Kay who got her to locket.

Ari smiled faintly, her eyes misting over again. "Kay gave me the necklace a few days ago. It has a picture of me and my mom inside, from when I was little. He said he wanted me to have something to keep her close." Her voice cracked again. "He's been so thoughtful. He even planned a family vacation to the Dominican Republic. He talked to my boss and got everything cleared without me even knowing. He said I needed a break. I appreciate my husband more than anything in this world. I honestly don't think I would've been be able to take care of myself if I was alone."

Dr. Collins smiled warmly. "It sounds like you have a very supportive partner, Ari."

"I do," Ari said, her voice barely above a whisper, putting a weak smile to her face.

You're grieving. Grief isn't a straight path, it's messy, unpredictable, and heavy. But it doesn't mean you're weak or failing. It means you loved deeply. And that love is still with you, even now."

Ari let those words sink in, her shoulders trembling as she cried openly. For the first time in weeks, she didn't try to stop the tears or hold herself together.

By the time the session ended, Ari felt emotionally raw but also strangely lighter. As she stepped outside into the crisp evening air, she touched the locket around her neck and closed her eyes.

Her grief was still there, a deep ache she couldn't shake, but for the first time, it felt like something she could face. One step at a time.

She picked up donuts knowing Kairo was blowing up her phone all day about chocolate donuts before she headed home.

Ari walked into the warmth of their home, kicking off her heels as exhaustion weighed her down. The aroma of food wafted through the air, momentarily distracting her from her stress. She furrowed her brow in confusion. The house was spotless, the soft glow of candles illuminating the living room. That wasn't how she had left it this morning.

"Kay?" she called out, her voice laced with surprise.

"In the kitchen!" his deep voice was heard coming from the kitchen.

Ari followed the sound of his voice, her heart warming at the sight. Kay was standing at the stove, a towel slung over his shoulder as he stirred something in a pan. The dining table was set, complete with her favorite wine and fresh flowers in a crystal vase.

"You cleaned the house and cooked?" Ari asked, incredulous, as she stepped closer.

"Yeah. Someone had to. I know you been busy with work and shit" Kay said with a grin, wiping his hands before walking over to kiss her cheek. "How was your day?"

Ari sighed, leaning against the counter. "Long. Exhausting. I feel like I'm running on fumes trying to catch up. New York Fashion Week is around the corner, and I can barely sit for 10 minutes at work."

Kay cupped her face gently, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. "Which is why I'm taking care of everything tonight."

Ari didn't respond, she looked down at the steak that was sizzling on the pan, along with the rest of the food sitting on the tray. She laughed and looked up at her husband. "Kay who cooked this?"

"You tryna be funny? Nigga I cooked all this."

"Your mom must be here or something. You didn't cook this babe." She said eyeing the baked chicken he took out of the oven.

"I made all of this ma. Youtube helped, but other then that this all me."

She raised an eyebrow, confused at how her husband learned how to cook overnight. Everything looked really good which surprised her because youtube can't teach that.

"Where's my babies?"

"Upstairs. I know you feel now when people in the kitchen with you. I had to pack them up."

Ari places the box of donuts on the table before going upstairs to take a shower after a long day.  She sighed at the thought of having to do her hair tomorrow. She got the kids ready for dinner, all of them helping set the table.

As the table was set, Ari was still in disbelief her husband cooked all the food on the table as Ari didn't even make this much food on holidays.

"You can go ahead and shower. I'll clean dishes." She offered, as everyone finished up their plates. Kimora and her remained downstairs cleaning dishes, which helped her get everything done quicker as the house was already clean. The mother daughter pair then made thier way upstairs.

Ari was in the girl's room, taking out what would be tomorrow's outfits for them.

"My hair still smells like fish from that lady that was here earlier." Kimora complained.

"Me too." Kennedy giggled.

Ari raised an eyebrow and looked back and forth between beds. "What lady?"

"The one that was here earlier." Kennedy said in a duh tone.

"Well I wasn't here earlier. Girl who yall talking about?" She said putting down Kennedy's dress.

"Daddy hired some lady to cook. He said she was a chef. She was frying fish and the whole house stunk."

Ari paused for a second before she started laughing. "He told me he cooked everything."

"And you believed him?" Kimora said. "Dad can't even boil water."

"He said he found recipes off youtube." She said making her two daughters laugh. Ari turned around and headed over to their bedroom, next door. She walked in to see Kay lying on his stomach, shirtless with his basketball shorts on, scrolling on his phone. He looked up at her as she walked in, reading the expression on her face.

"What happened?"

"Kay who you had in this house today?"

"What you talking about?" He said sitting up.

"The kids said you had a woman in here earlier. They said she was the one cooking." She said. Kay lips curled up into a smirk and started laughing. "You can't lie for shit."

"Nah you dead believed me. Your daughters just got big mouths and I know it was mostly Kimora."

"I knew you didn't cook all of that. I'm not dumb baby."

"Humm I just wanted to do something special for you. That's all."

"Well I appreciate it baby." She said sitting next to him on the bed. "You're so thoughtful."

"You packed everything for DR?" He asked her, staring at her as her face relaxed a bit.

"No, I didn't even start. Tomorrow I'm off so I'll try to pack everyone's stuff then."

He nodded, and rolled onto his back. "How was therapy?" He said making Ari's eyebrows furrow together quickly.

"How did you know about that?"

"You told me you was starting soon, you didn't say when. But I can tell you was crying today when you walked in."

She took a deep breath and looked directly at him. "It was actually good. I feel like I needed it."

"That's wassup. I know we grew up thinking therapy was corny but that shit actually helps. I used to see a therapist."

"Really? This new." She asked crossing her legs. "Why? And when was this?"

"I was forced to take it when I was younger when my grandma died. I was on and off with it til maybe like before you got pregnant with Kennedy. I had a whole lot of issues not gon lie."

"Do you think it worked?"

"Yeah. Opened my eyes up about a lot of shit. You just got to find the best therapist for you." He said rubbing his thumb over her hand.

"Kay when did you become so smart?" Ari laughed. "You're so smart and mature now. I feel like I watched you grow up." She laughed although she was partially serious.