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A pang rolls through my heart. Rubbing my hand over my chest, I open my eyes, tears rolling down my cheeks. Dr. Wilkinson stands in front of me with a box of tissues.
“How about I give you a moment to collect yourself? Then we’ll resume.”
I nod, grateful she read me well enough to know I need a break.
Grabbing some tissues, I give her a weak smile, then stand. She heads back to her chair while I walk to the window, staring blindly at the outside world.
As I’m cleaning up my face, I hear my phone beep. I pull it from my back pocket, surprised to see Chase’s name on the screen.
Chase: Hey gorgeous. How ya doing?
Even though I feel like shit, his words make me smile.
Me: I’ve been better. Aren’t you in your counseling session?
Chase: Yes. About that… Your therapist is gonna get a phone call from mine. Can you make sure she answers?
Me: I’ll see what I can do.
I’m confused by Chase’s message, but I immediately take my phone over to Dr. Wilkinson and read the text to her.
“It’s unorthodox but yet, I’ll answer.”
I text Chase and about a minute later, my therapist’s phone rings. She answers it, her eyes assessing me as she listens.
My phone beeps with a text from Chase.
Chase: Would you be willing to talk to Dr. Lawson’s wife? She’s a therapist who works with cult survivors and former members who escaped.
Anxiousness courses through my chest. Since my therapist doesn’t seem to be helping, what could it hurt?
Me: Sure. I’ll talk to her.
After Dr. Wilkinson hangs up, she reiterates Dr. Lawson’s conversation and provides additional information Chase didn’t when he texted me. “Her name is Mrs. Emersyn Lawson. She’s married to Chase’s counselor and is currently working on her doctorate degree in counseling. Her specialization is counseling cult victims.”
Before I can utter a word, Dr. Wilkinson continues. “Dr. Lawson said Mrs. Lawson figured you’d like to meet her and have an informal conversation. She doesn’t want you to feel pressured but said she would be interested in talking to you and Chase. Together and separately.”
That takes the pressure off, especially if Chase is there. “Would she be willing to meet with Chase and me together for this first informal meeting?”
Dr. Wilkinson nods. “I believe so since she’s currently in Dr. Lawson’s office right now.”
“Okay. What do I have to lose?”
68
MACKENZIE
When Dr. Wilkinson opens her office door, Chase stands in the hallway, a reassuring smile on his face. The tension leaves my body as I exit the room, placing my hand in his outstretched one.
“I see that you don’t need me to escort,” Dr. Wilkinson says, a smile on her face.
I shake my head. “No thanks. I’m good.”
She nods. “I’ll see you at your next session on Thursday.”
I simply nod, not saying a word. Hopefully, that session will consist of me telling her I no longer need her services, since she hasn’t been helping me.
As Chase and I walk down the hallway, I’m cautiously optimistic about Emersyn Lawson’s ability to help me. If she’s worked with cult captives previously, she’ll have a better understanding of what Chase and I endured.
