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It takes me another sixty seconds to come up with five words. “He made me feel special.”
He never deserved you. Oliver pulled me into a hug after I broke out in tears while packing up Julian’s dorm room, for which I never received even a simple thank-you text.
I like you…a lot more than any friend should, Oliver told me right before the holiday break during our junior year after we spent a year keeping things platonic.
Before that, it was easy to put him in the friend zone after Julian hurt me, but his blue eyes, blond hair, and effortless smile grew on me.
You’re so talented, and you deserve to be appreciated.He encouraged me to post my first photo on the Designs by Dahlia social media page. It was a grainy image of my first apartment, and one I have kept pinned at the top of the page to this day because of everything it represents.
I was vulnerable and searching for reassurance in all the wrong places, including Oliver’s family, who became immersed in my business once they started helping produce our TV show.
“Was it always like that?” Dr. Martin probes.
“Before we got engaged, we had seven years of typical relationship stuff. There were plenty of good moments mixed with some bad ones. He made it seem like he was the misunderstood black sheep of his family, only for me to realize he was actually the wolf.”
If Dr. Martin is surprised, she doesn’t show it.
“He made it seem like we could do anything together, but when we were finally put to the test, we failed.”
Ifailed. Instead of valuing myself enough to walk away, I stayed because I stupidly didn’t want to quit a relationship that I had invested so much time into. But it didn’t matter anyway because little by little, Oliver pulled away, leaving me to grapple with my grief over never having a child of my own.
I pick at my cuticles. “Things took a turn for the worse after the prenup and the medical test, although I put on a brave face and shelved my pain while the cameras were rolling because I love my job and the people I work with, and the last thing I wanted to do was give it all up because of him.”
Yet you lost it all anyway.
I have no show, no friends besides a few crew members,and no hope that someone will want me after I was dumped because I “wasn’t the woman he wanted.”
Oliver might as well have admitted I didn’t have thewombhe wanted, but I digress.
Dr. Martin bows her head in understanding. “It’s human nature to avoid anything that will cause us pain.”
“It was so easy to throw myself into work, but while my business thrived, a part of my soul died.”
The skin beside her eyes softens.
I’ll tell my parents you’re not coming. Again, Oliver emphasized with a huff before taking off for the Creswells’ mansion, leaving me to blankly stare at a wall for hours until I cried myself to sleep.
It’s not too late to break things off and find someone more suited for your future, Oliver’s mother had whispered to him while she thought I was still in the restroom.
Thankfully, someone will carry on the Creswells’ name, Oliver’s dad said as his wife passed their daughter’s ultrasound photos around the dinner table.
After my test, it felt like our relationship had taken a gunshot wound to the heart, and I was the only one trying to fix it.
Dr. Martin ends our session with another Jamaican proverb I don’t recognize, and I spend the next ten minutes researchingRockstone a riva bottom nuh know sun hatinstead of crying myself to sleep, which is a win.
Rockstone a riva bottom nuh know sun hat:
Sheltered people don’t know hardship.
My second day in town goes about the same, although my psychiatry appointment put me through another emotional wringer. Hopefully the increased dosage of my antidepressants and my new commitment to engaging in more enjoyable activities will help boost my mood, although I’m still a bit skeptical since I barely want to leave the house, let alone decorate one.
I expect my third day back in Lake Wisteria to follow the same pattern of being left alone, but when I finally crawl out of bed at two p.m. in search of food, I’m startled to find the Lopez family spread around our house for our families’ Sunday get-together.
My sister taps at her phone like the screen personally offended her while my mom and Josefina busy themselves chopping vegetables in the kitchen. Rafa completely ignores “Robarte un Beso”blasting from the portable speaker beside him as he watches a Mexican League game on the TV.
“¿Madrina?” Nico notices me first and takes off running in my direction. It’s been a couple of years since I last saw him, except for video calls, and he has grown about two feet.
“You’re back!” Nico throws his arms around my legs.
