Chapter 36
THIRTY-SIX
Noah thinks I don’t know he’s got his camera up in this house still. I guess technically I have no proof of that, but because I know him, I’ll bet that he’s watching right now as I talk to the counselor that Mercy offered for me to use.
She’s got a sweet face and patient body language, like she's sat in front of hundreds of broken people before and hasn’t grown tired of helping them yet.
God knows the horrible things she’s heard since working for the victims that Mercy saves, I can't imagine having to take all of that in.
What Bo and I were put through was Hell, but it was only a few days.
We know now that some of the people they saved had been there for years.
How do you begin to move on from something like that?
Noah tells me that sometimes they don’t.
They can provide counseling, the medical team, the resources to connect to long-term care.
Sometimes the damage isn’t fixable. Sometimes, the people they save lose the ability to feel hope.
They try to keep tabs on them, but he says you can’t force someone to get better.
I guess he’s right.
“Can you tell me a little bit more about what you mean when you say you still feel like you’re in shock?” she asks, tilting her head to the side. Amy, that’s right. She said to call her Amy.
Chewing my lip, I hug the pillow in my lap and try to force my hesitance into something that makes sense.
“When it was happening, when they were hurting me, it was like I could turn it off in my head. Sometimes it didn’t work, but most of the time I could.
Like I’d be in a different spot in the room, looking out a window or something.
Now I keep waiting for this giant emotional tidal wave to come but I mostly just feel…
dulled. It’s like there’s barely any good or bad emotion left. ”
“Disassociation is a common coping skill the body and mind use when faced with something like assault,” she offers.
“Sometimes it can be hard to reattach and feel connected after our mind disassociates. Leaving us feeling that dullness you described.” She shifts on the couch, watching me for a moment.
“Having that hallmark fall-to-pieces moment isn’t something everybody gets, Emma.
It’s also not necessary to have one when you’re trying to rebuild.
It’s possible that just helping you feel reconnected, reattached, could help with allowing you to start feeling some of those more positive emotions and experiences. ”
“It sort of feels like cheating, like I'm skipping part if the healing process”
She shrugs. “There’s no cheating in therapy.
Some people confront their trauma over and over and it goes nowhere, or they feel sort of the opposite of you.
Everything is loud and impossible to forget.
It’s different for everyone. For you, your brain just chose a different path, and it’s likely not to be consistent.
Tomorrow you could wake up with that dullness gone, and that strong pain in its place.
It’s best if we prepare for both situations so you can learn how to manage all the hurdles you’ll face. ”
I nod, suddenly exhausted. The audacity of men to force their trauma onto people who are then left picking up the pieces possibly forever. I hate them for leaving their stain on me, for thinking somehow that their moment of pleasure is worth a lifetime of my pain.
“I know your situation here isn’t the norm. Do you feel like you have support in this house? When the urge comes to talk things out, do you have someone you can do that with?”
Sighing, my eyes flick to the corners of the ceiling. I just know he’s up there watching, and it doesn’t even bother me. That’s just Noah. And even though he’s as overbearing as they come, I don’t mind. It’s impossible not to feel his obsessive brand of love. “Yeah, I do.”
Her soft smile inspires my own. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.
You can call me anytime, but I’ll be back next week.
I want you to use some of these exercises until then to help you with starting to help yourself feel reconnected.
Detachment can be tough if we let it become a habit.
Try some of these, and be easy on yourself, okay? ”
I take the handwritten list she offers, scanning it. “Thanks, Amy.”
Gathering her things, she opens the door to the office we’ve taken over for our sessions and almost runs right into Noah. “Thank you,” he offers politely, eyes already pinning me down.
She scurries off and he winds his way around the desk and takes a seat in the large chair opposite me, hands curling over the armrests. The slight flex of his arms distracts me for a moment before I remember I should be upset with him for waking me up at the crack of dawn.
“How was it?” he asks, voice low. Always studying me, watching and learning and assessing.
“Good.” It’s vague and he narrows his eyes.
“Good?” he repeats back, waiting for me to continue. I simply shrug, refusing to elaborate.
“What’s that?” He nods at the paper in my hands and I crush it in my fist.
“Nothing. Just something from Amy.”
He huffs, frustrated with me. We stare each other down until he can’t handle my insolence a moment more. "You're being difficult.”
Popping a brow, I relax in my chair. I know I am, but I’ve found I like the curl of anticipation lately when I resist Noah a little bit. Something I didn’t really do before, but this newer version of me does. “I just wish you’d stop pretending you don’t know everything I said already.”
He leans forward, pinning me to my chair with those unyielding eyes of his. I love when I have his full, frustrated attention. “You said you don’t understand us still wanting you. You told her that.”
I knew it. “Shouldn’t eavesdrop if you don’t want to hear things you don’t like.”
He glares at me. “You’re the only person in this world I’ve ever wanted. That’s never changing.”
“It’s not about how you feel, Noah. It’s about how I feel.” I argue, turning to look out the window.
He snaps. “Hey. We’re talking. And that’s bullshit. You can feel however you want, but you do not get to decide if I want you or not.”
I roll my eyes because it makes him crazy. “Why are you so bossy all the time?”
“Because I’m the boss,” he says simply, leaning back in his chair with a smug smirk on his face.
“But if it makes you feel better, I’ll let you sit here and make it extremely clear how much I still want you.
” He rests his hand on the edge of the desk in front of him, fingers playing across the wood.
My muscles clench at the picture he paints. Me, legs spread in his office, and him on his knees in front of me. Worshipping me.
My cheeks flush, but I try to play it cool. “That’s not on my doctor’s list of things to try this week. Sorry.”
A grin cracks across his face, body leaning forward as if to spring across the desk at me when I hear Jesse in the hall, calling Noah’s name. His voice slurs and I quickly catch Noah’s playful moment melt away; gone before I could even appreciate it being there.
“Noah!” Jesse rounds the corner, throwing the door wide open. Flinching, I blink up at him, caught off guard by the frantic energy rolling off of him without him seeing that it makes my heart race.
However, Noah never misses anything and is at my side in a moment, squeezing my hand and holding his other up to Jesse. “Calm down, what’s going on?” His eyes narrow. “Are you drunk?”
Jesse shakes his head, waving away the valid question. “Barely. I think I found him. Bo. I think I know where he is.”