Page 115 of False Promises

“Carter, breathe. You’re safe.” Dr. Diaz lowered his voice. “Tell me why you punished yourself in a relationship that made you miserable?”

I exploded. The wires in my head touched and things I kept locked inside burst out.

“My brother is dead. And it’s all my fault. I should have been the one dying that night. He had his whole future ahead of him. He had just got married. With a baby on the way.”

Dr. Diaz cleared his throat. “Carter, we already assessed that guilt a couple of years ago. Please be honest with me now. And with yourself. Don’t deviate from the question. No more hiding. That’s the key to clearing your head and moving forward.”

I hid my face in the crook of my elbow, fighting through my emotional overload.

It took me a while to recoup my thoughts.

“I-I didn’t…I didn’t think I deserved better. For the longest time, I believed myself to be unworthy of love. Happy now? This time, I didn’t wanna be failed by another woman. I had hoped this was it. That it would break the curse. That a woman would love me back. Me. The man. Not the fucking music star or the best friend or the child, but me. Carter Hills, the guy from White Crest, Tennessee. The guy who misses his mother more than she deserves and one who would have given his life so that his best friend loved him back. And returned his feelings one day. And not move on with another guy and fucking marry him. That they would raise Jack together and be a real family, the three of them. Like he pictured it so many times in his dreams.”

Dr. Diaz said nothing.

“I thought if I put all my energy into this relationship and ignore the voices in my head that told me to run away, I would succeed. I know better now and understand what you mean when you say I had to go through this, that it was part of my journey. Doesn’t mean I’m grateful I did. Yeah, I learned the lesson or whatever life tried to teach me. I get it. And I left. I put an end to the misery. Still, it’s another failed relationship with a woman. Happy you got it out of me?”

My jaw flexed, and I wiped my palms on my denims.

I hiccupped, the air coming in and out of my lungs hurting its lining. I was suffocating. This morning, I felt stronger. Ready to take the world by storm. But the intrusive session wasn’t going as planned. It kept me on the edge of my seat.

“That was before you jumped into the relationship. Does the man sitting in front of me today still believe he’s not worthy of love? Or can you categorize this period of your life as a bad experience? You faced your aggressor. You put an end to your hell. You showed strength.”

I shrugged. “I guess.”

“The way I see it, you have two choices here. One, you accept this and use it to move forward. It will always be a part of you, but it doesn’t have to define you. You can acknowledge it happened and keep going.”

I offered him a pointed look.

“See it as a toolbox. All your life experiences, good or bad, can become tools in the future if you know how to use them. Your second option is to let this relationship eat you from the inside and ruin the rest of your life. To let it define you. Which one are you choosing?”

My eyes connected with him.

He suspended his hands as a balance on either side of him, moving them up and down.

“Being miserable and living a passionless life? Or growing from it? Dusting yourself up and not stopping until you get where you wanna be. Like in your career. You persevered even when it felt like the world was crumbling around you. Show the same determination in your love life, and don’t lose hope.”

I snorted.

“I knew it,” Dr. Diaz said, what resembled a smile forming on his thin lips.

I raised both hands between us. “You’re right. I won’t let my failed relationship get to me. Throw yourself flowers.” My lips tilted up of their own volition.

Dr. Diaz nodded and continued. “Now, let’s talk about your mother. Because a mom is a child’s first love.”

The topic of my parents abandoning me five years ago still hurt like hell. Over the years, I had made multiple efforts to reconnect with them. In vain. They didn’t just push me away the day they flew out of the country, they also turned their backs on their only grandchild. And on Dahlia, who had always been like a daughter to them. When we all needed them the most.

Under the shrink’s heavy gaze, I averted my eyes.

“Carter.” He had lost his confrontational tone. “In order to move on, we gotta address your mother’s actions. I believe it’s the root of your complicated relationship with love. And why your feelings for Dahlia took a long time to settle into friendship.”

“I don’t wanna talk about my mother. She has always preferred my brother. I’ve known all my life. He was her favorite child. She wasn’t even subtle about it. She would always prioritize him and his well-being. In everything. When Jeff asked Dahlia out, she was so proud. She radiated with glee. She knew how I felt. She must have known because the entire fucking world was aware. Everyone says I have the worst poker face. She was my mother. And she did nothing to comfort me. She didn’t hug me that night. Or tell me I would meet someone else one day. She stood there and smiled at him as if he had gifted her the world. And my dad, well, he stood by her, no matter what.”

I ran the back of my hand under my runny nose.

Reliving those moments hurt like a fresh wound. They shook me to my core.

“Every music festival I played at, every award I won, every platinum album I sold, she never once congratulated me. She never said a word about it. She could have said she was proud, that she knew I would make it and I had what it took to succeed. Talent. Drive. Whatever. She. Never. Did. She didn’t even come to see me play when I was touring, before being signed and after being signed.”