Chapter 28
“Roberta will be with you shortly,” the receptionist says as she directs me to the waiting room.
I sink into one of the cushioned chairs and let out a breath. My legs bounce as I wait. The clock on the far wall is louder than I remember. Each tick is painfully slow. A reminder of how long it’s taken me to figure things out—four days.
I took off work and tried to convince myself I didn’t need this appointment, but alas, here I am.
I drag my gaze away from the clock, my attention landing on the same frayed olive-green chairs and lavender scent in the air. Nothing’s changed since my last visit, and yet, the room stretches in size. In the past, my issues filled up every inch of this space.
I pull on a loose thread at my sleeve, listening to the receptionist’s nails tapping the keyboard.
The door opens with a muted click.
“Erin,” Roberta says. Her voice is clear and familiar.
I stand, manage a smile, and wave.
“Come in,” she says, gesturing me inside her office.
The room holds memories of my previous sessions. My usual chair waits for me, and for a moment, I visualize a younger version of myself sitting there—small, scared, and unsure.
I lower into the seat. For a second, it’s like one of those old TV shows where a character touches an object from their past, and whoosh, every single memory floods back in.
My palms dampen. The words scrape out of me. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
Roberta doesn’t press. She just watches me in a patient manner.
“This whole time I thought…” I stop again before blurting, “I met someone.”
“Would you like to tell me about them?” Roberta asks.
“It was the night of our last session. His name’s Chase.” Saying his name makes it even more real. “We started being friends. I was wary at first, but I liked being around him. He made everything easy. When he asked me out, I panicked and ran. I heard her voice again.”
Roberta leans forward. “Your mother’s?”
“Yes. The same condescending tone telling me I’d hurt him if I let him get close. So, I said no. I told him we could only be friends.”
My mind travels back to our phone call.
“He said he’d be my best friend.”
Roberta gazes at me with quiet understanding. “It sounds as if he cares about you.”
“He does. The more time we spent together, the safer I felt. Eventually, I realized just how quiet my head had become. I noticed the absence at first, the silence her voice used to fill. Then, one day, I stopped saying my mantras. Not on purpose. I just… forgot.”
“Did the voice come back?”
I let out a shaky breath. “Four days ago, Chase kissed me.” I pause, remembering how his mouth felt on mine. He was gentle, kissing me in a way that felt more like a promise than a lip lock. “And I heard a voice.”
“What did it say?”
“‘Good job, Erin. I’m proud of you.’”
The waterworks start before I can contain them.
“That night, I realized, it wasn’t her voice in my head. It was mine.” The thing I’ve been running from wasn’t a ghost of her; it was an echo of me. My scared voice wore my mother’s tone like a mask.
Roberta stays still, eyes never leaving mine. “What makes you so sure?”
“When I ran from Chase the first time, I heard, “‘You never learn, do you, Erin?’” My mother has never known me as Erin. Only Lucia. I just got so used to hearing her that when my own voice tried to protect Chase from me, I couldn’t tell the difference.” I dab my eyes with my sleeve.
The silence that stretches between us is an endless layer of fog, but for the first time in a long time, I’m beginning to see through it.
“The voice I heard before Chase—that was my mother’s. But since Chase, the person I’ve been afraid of isn’t her—it’s me.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“When I was seventeen and that guy grabbed me…” My fingers curl into the hem of my sleeve.
“When Wess crossed the line a few months back.” The lavender diffuser hisses behind Roberta, grounding me.
“Those were instances my mother would’ve blamed me for.
” I let out a sigh. “But Chase, he’s different.
I chose him. I felt a connection to him the minute I laid eyes on him at the bar.
Part of me knew that If I hurt him, it would be my fault.
Not hers. The other guys weren’t my choice.
Chase was. So, I kept my walls up and told myself I still needed the mantras to keep her out.
But I know now that they were keeping me out.
The parts of me that wanted to take a risk, the parts of me that wanted to fall. ”
Roberta’s voice is inquisitive. “So when you heard yourself this time, after he kissed you…?”
“It was like I finally gave myself permission to stop running. To want him.”
Roberta folds her hands together, resting them on her lap. “Why do you think that fear runs so deep?”
“I’m afraid to love him.” The words land like a punch to my stomach. The emotions that circle are uplifting and terrifying all at the same time. I’m speaking a truth I’ve kept buried for too long.
“If I fall for him, that’s on me, not my mother. I’ve been avoiding anything to do with love and relationships because I thought staying away from it made me different from her. But now that I know her voice is really gone… I’m terrified that if I hurt him, it’ll prove I really am just like her.”
Roberta gets straight to the point. “How does this change things for you?”
“I told Chase I wouldn’t run. Yesterday, that voice said it was proud of me. But what if next week it tells me that I’m making a mistake? Now that I know it’s my voice, I can’t silence it the way I used to. I think I have to learn to listen without believing.”
Roberta hums in acknowledgement. “That’s a big shift.”
“I think the voice that made me run from him was the scared part of me—the fear my mom left behind—but the one I heard when he kissed me? That was part of me, too. That part is ready to stop surviving and just live. I don’t want that voice to be drowned out by fear again.
I don’t want the other voice to gain power, either. ”
Roberta hums. “The voice you used to see as an enemy isn’t an enemy anymore. It’s a part of you. A scared version of you. It might always be there, but you can learn when it’s lying.”
“I think I’ve spent so long trying to fight it that when losing felt inevitable, I’d give up and retreat. Maybe what I need to do is stop fighting and just… listen? Figure out what’s true for myself.”
Her lips curve. “You’re starting to trust yourself, Erin.”
“I didn’t think I’d ever be able to,” I admit.
“You didn’t have enough confidence inside of you to be able to recognize your own voice without mistaking it for your mother’s. But now you do. That makes all the difference.”
“I want to do things differently. Chase told me he’d give me space to figure out why I was spiraling after the kiss. Now I know why. He told me I could come to him when I was ready.”
“And are you?”
“I want to be. I don’t want to hide anymore.
I don’t want to be afraid to love him.” My fingers tremble around the tissue.
“I want to try. Part of me believes the cycle is broken, that maybe that voice saying it was proud of me is the end of it. But if it’s not and it comes back, I don’t want to fear it.
I don’t want to live my life waiting for it to return.
Or question why it hasn’t. The moments I didn’t think about it, I was the happiest.”
“Maybe it’s the last time,” Roberta says softly. “Maybe it’s not. Over time, that voice might start to sound less like a threat you need to respond to and more like a memory you’ve outgrown.”
I sniff. “That sounds nice. Like it’d be peaceful.”
We sit in silence for a moment or two. The lavender dispenser on the shelf behind Roberta releases a delicate puff, breaking the quiet.
“I think I’m ready,” I whisper. “Ready to stop running from what I’m afraid of and start living for what I want.”
“And what do you want, Erin?”
I breathe in deep and let it go, my entire body lighter than it has been in years.
“Chase.”