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Jennifer’s posture loosens and she puts her index finger on her temple. “Why didn’t you tell me that? You just said you told him no. Am I supposed to be able to read your mind now? We are best friends, but I’m not a psychic.”
I open my car door and toss my purse inside. “I’ve got therapy.”
Once I’m out of work’s parking lot and on the road, a groan erupts from my throat. Why is my love life the topic of conversation anyway? I have never heard any of the girls talk about Theo until he asked me out. Now, they are all fawning over him like he’s some billionaire bachelor.
Relationships mean intimacy. With my history, that’s terrifying. After what happened with Thomas that night, I have never been in a relationship. There have been no men in my life. Sex is a whole other ballgame. What if I freak out? What if their hands remind me of his? My therapist has been telling me for years that I won’t know how it will affect me until I try. See, the thing is, a one-night-stand isn’t something I have ever wanted, and definitely not for the first time I have sex since the attack.
Therapy has taught me that I need to be more open to the possibility of finding someone who can be understanding of the situation. So like a boyfriend, but how am I supposed to find one if I never have time? It’s an oxymoron, for god's sake.
Theo seems like a nice guy, but how badly would I feel if I say yes to him, go out on a date, and then never have time to spend with him? Am I pushing him away because I’m scared of getting hurt? These are questions that I need to ask myself because Theo doesn’t deserve to be rejected. He is the first man that has shown real interest in me in years. We didn’t meet at a bar. He didn’t try to take me home. So, what is the damn problem?
I sit in my car outside of my therapist’s office and contemplate not going in. Somehow having someone else know how screwed up you are is terrifying. However, she is in no position to judge me. Her job is to help me. And right now, I need it. Thomas getting out is fucking with my sleep and sense of security. Everywhere I go, I have to stop and look at my surroundings to make sure he isn’t following me. Not that I think he is stupid enough to come back here, but my head won’t let it go.
You can do this. She will be able to help you. If you don’t go in, you will regret it.Curse my thoughts. They always push me to do things I’m not sure of, but they are usually right in the end.
I take a deep breath and get out of my car, heading into the office. There are plants in the corners of the waiting room, and six wood chairs lined against the wall.
“Morning, Felicity. I’ll let her know you are here.”
It's bad when you come here so often, the receptionist remembers your name by heart. After the incident, my father took me to a therapist, but it didn’t work. I went through three therapists before I found Dr. Baylor. She doesn’t beat around the bush, and I think that’s why I have continued coming to her all this time. She is also a victim of sexual assault which might have swayed me to keep coming to. It’s easier hearing things from someone who has been through it. You always hear people say, “I know how you feel” but they don’t unless they have experienced it.
“Come on back, Ms. Marrow. Do you need some water or anything before we get started?” she asks.
I shake my head and walk into her office, letting her shut the door, and I take my seat on the couch like normal. My chest rises and falls. This has become almost like a safe space for me. Anything I talk about in here doesn’t get repeated, so I can be brutally honest.
“It’s been a little bit since our last session. Is there anything specific you want to talk about today?” she asks, opening her notebook and the cap off of her pen.
My hand grazes the back of my neck and I clutch my purse that is in my lap. “My attacker got out.”
She tilts her head. “I can see if it is affecting you. Let’s talk about it.”
My foot starts to bounce and my teeth graze my bottom lip. Just saying that out loud is making it worse. My heart starts to race and it’s coming. Chest gets tight and my hand clutches it.
“Remember what I taught you? Deep breaths, close your eyes, imagine a safe place. Don’t let him do this to you. He can’t hurt you here, Felicity.”
I stare at the back of my eyelids, trying to think of puppies and then the waves on the sand of a beach, but it’s not working. I feel a hand on my arm causing my eyes to fly open.
“It’s only me. Felicity, it’s going to be okay. It’s normal to have feelings like this with that sort of news, but we have to find a way for you to work through it. Do you remember our last session? You said you didn’t want him controlling the way you live your life.”
I nod blowing out a series of short breaths to gain control. “But he could show up here. Find out where I live. Come to my house.” I shudder at the thought.
“You like math, so let’s focus on that. What are the chances of him coming back to the place where he committed a crime? A small town where he was all over the news?”
She’s right. I know this, but that doesn’t calm my anxiety. He was stupid enough to break into my father’s house while we were home. So, obviously he’s not the smartest person. This doesn’t give me confidence that he wouldn’t ever show back up here.
“Okay, let's go about it like this. What can you do to protect yourself from him getting into your home if he were to come back? What can you do to make yourself feel safe?”
My hand tugs on my ear as my mind races, searching for answers. Is there anything that would make me feel safe? No amount of locks on the doors would take my vulnerability away. “If he had a tracking device on him.”
She laughs. “Good point. Are you still living by yourself?”
I nod with a too-quick smile. We both know what is coming next. She is going to tell me that maybe I should try to find a roommate. It’s not as easy as it sounds with how picky I am about the cleanliness of my house.
“Have you been on a date yet? I know we spoke briefly about this a couple sessions ago. You said that you someday wanted children, but didn’t feel like it was the right time to open yourself up to someone. Do you feel like this has changed?”
I want to say yes, but my mind tells me one thing and my heart tells me another. Letting someone in could end in a disaster. All the progress I have made could be crumbled into pieces. I wish there was a way for me to know if Theo would understand my past before I had to endure a date. What if he wants to have sex right away? My situation isn’t typical.
“Having someone sounds nice in theory, but there are so many other things that need to be considered.”
