Chapter 18
Rainey
This is my third session with my therapist. Last session, we continued talking about my adoptive parents. And today, it’s Max. “When did you see Max again?” She leans back into her seat, crossing her legs.
“It was in the summer after my first year of college.”
She nods and writes something down. “How did you feel when you first saw him?”
The memory brings a smile to my face. “I was speechless. I truly thought I’d never see him again.
At first, I thought I would get the closure I needed when he never returned to school the following day.
But then things changed. I…I fell in love.
” I sigh and lie down on her large velvet couch, tucking the dress between my legs and crossing them at the ankle.
We weave through that summer and when he left me in tears.
Now that I understand why, the gnawing in my chest no longer aches.
“How did you two find one another?”
Again, I walk her through our relationship. I told her everything was perfect until it wasn’t. Then I overheard the word “adoption,” and I ran.
“Can you tell me what it felt like to hear those words?”
I think about her question just as I have for the past months.
“If my biological parents had given me up, perhaps I would have thought differently. But they passed away, and I feel they took advantage of the situation of me having severe amnesia. I feel betrayed and manipulated.” They manipulated my entire life without my knowledge.
“Do you think you can explain to me how you felt knowing you had a life before Rainey as Sol?”
A tear slides down my cheek. “I wish…I was never Rainey… Sol had a beautiful life until her parents died. I wish she never lost her memory.” She hands me a tissue.
I try to explain. “Before the accident that triggered my memory back, I was confused, but curious at the same time. I was Rainey, a grown-ass woman. I couldn’t be a small girl named Sol.
But when I woke in the hospital with my entire life flooding back—the memories I’m still having, I now long for the small child I was. I want to know everything about her.”
“You speak of her as if you are two individual people.”
I didn’t answer right away. Perhaps she’s right. I always refer to Sol as she and her, never me. Mrs. Sanders grabs her iPad and takes more notes.
“Sorry, I just started using this, and it’s taking me a minute to get used to.” Her fingers swipe, then she peers at me. “Go ahead, hun.”
“It’s been hard for me to accept the fact that…” I sigh. “…I’m adopted, and I had a different name.” My emotions have been all over the place. I don’t even know what to cry about anymore. Pregnancy escalates it all. I wipe the tears and blow my nose.
“Take your time.”
“It feels as if I’ll never get the answers I need.
My adoptive father has been MIA, my mother passed, and that wound is still fresh because I loved her, and I somehow feel betrayed by her.
We were close. She left me a letter with an attorney.
” A broken laugh slips from my lips. “I picked it up, but I haven’t read it.
I lost trust in them. What if it’s all a lie, or maybe it will make things harder for me? ”
Mrs. Sanders purses her lips. “When you feel ready, you might want to read that note. But if you find you don’t need it to feel whole again, that’s fine too.
You could throw it away or tuck it somewhere out of sight.
Or perhaps ask someone close to you to read it first—they might help you decide whether what’s written there would help your healing process or reopen old wounds.
” The timer goes off, indicating our session has ended.
“Your homework for next session is to write down ten things you love about Sol and ten things you love about Rainey.”
Once I get to my car, I take a long, exaggerated breath, laying my hand on the roof of my car and my head on the window.
I try to control my breathing and the ache sitting in every part of my body.
I rub my belly. “It’s okay, sweetie. Everything will be fine.
” I don’t want the stress in my life to affect my baby.
After seeing the news article yesterday and seeing Max today, it’s a sword to my chest. Why the fuck is he looking for me when his damn face and little miss desperate bitch’s face are plastered all over the place?
Not just Sunday’s paper, but his social media page.
Caption reading: A couple who wins together stays together.
The same photo from the charity ball is on his page. The comments are like a telenovela.
Oh my god, they are so cute together.
She’s much better than his last girl.
Ugh, I wish he were mine.
I love them together. I hope they get married.
The thought of that made me want to barf. I had to stop reading. Better yet, stay off social media.
With another sigh, I open the door and start the engine, my baby purring.
That reminds me, I need to buy a car suitable for a baby.
I shift into reverse when my phone rings.
Shifting back into park, I fish for it in my purse.
My stomach churns when I see it’s the rehab center. Oh God, did something happen? “Hello?”
“Mija, it’s Hector.”
I gasp. “Hector, are you okay?”
“Yes, everything is fine. I called to see if you’re okay. The facility subscribes to the Vegas newspaper, and well, I saw…Max on it. I was wondering if you—”
I interject, saving him from the strain in his voice. “Yes, I did,” I say, my voice low.
“I’m sorry. Does he know about the baby?”
“No.” A painful laugh vibrates from my chest. “I called him the night of that ball, and my call didn’t get picked up.”
Oh, but he did call me eight times and left a voicemail saying we need to talk. After I drove from the parking lot. Fuck him. Then he had the nerve to text.
We have to talk in person, baby. Answer me so we can meet.
He can meet with his new companion. I’m sure the bitch is happy. She has what she’s always wanted. Him.
Hector hmms through the receiver. “Maybe I should call him. I know I won’t be much help because I’m not someone he looks up to.
” I appreciate Hector’s kindness and checking up on me, but a part of me feels that I should despise the man for what he’s done to Max.
For some reason, my heart won’t allow it.
We’ve all been through a mountain of pain.
If he relapses, then I don’t know what to do.
“Oh no, Hector, don’t worry about it… Carlos was right.” I whisper the last part.
“What is that? What did Carlos say?”
I guess he heard.
“Carlos is his trainer, right?”
I exhale, put my phone on speaker, then back out.
“Yes, Carlos is his trainer, but he is also a father figure in his life.” I’ve been carrying this on my chest, and I know Hector won’t say a word.
Well, at least I hope so once I tell him not to.
“He said it’s best if I give Max space, and he doesn’t need to deal with me.
Max needs to concentrate on the fight. You see, Hector, in the foster home that Max and I were in, he defended me from a man who wanted to do inappropriate things to me, and in return, they would…
Maybe it’s not a good idea to tell you.”
“Please do. I need to know.”
I don’t want this to affect his recovery and set him back. But maybe he needs to hear it. “In return, they would beat him and whip him with the belt. He…he has marks on his back because of me. Scars. Just like Carlos said, I’m the reflection of his past.”
Through the other end, it sounds like a gasp or maybe a hard swallow. “He is wrong. Very. Very wrong. Listen, hija, the only people who have wronged Maximiliano are me and those who hurt him. Not you.”
“But…”
“No, Rainey, you did nothing wrong. What else did Carlos tell you?”
I sigh. “The truth. He said if I love Max, then I need to let him go. He’s right.
Max doesn’t need to deal with all my mental shit.
Personally, I was in a bad spot when I found out I was adopted, and even worse in the last four months.
Therapy is helping, and of course, my baby is my light.
” At the stoplight, I rub my temples. “I told him to move on, but of all people, why her? And so soon.”
Hector is quiet for half a minute. I would have thought he hung up if I didn’t hear the chatter in the room he’s in.
“Now I remember. Annette’s parents were friends of ours.
Maybe the article is misleading because, as a child, Max didn’t like her; he said she was annoying because, even then, that little girl would pester him. She was a spoiled brat.”
That hasn’t changed.
“I’m not trying to defend my son. Even in my worst drunken haze, I remember how he’d bring you up.
Not just once—over and over. ‘She’s beautiful, Pops.
And kind. The type of woman I could love forever.
’ Then he would say, ‘Mom would have loved her.’ Then later—I guess after you two had found your way back to each other.
He was helping me up and said, ‘I found her, Pops. I want you to meet her, but I can’t have you meet the woman I love like this. ’”
I have to pull over. Just for a second. Just to breathe.
“I could barely stand. I didn’t know how to handle emotions, and I was a complete ass to him, saying horrible shit to him. I saw the hurt in his eyes.” He pauses. “I just don’t understand why he would be with Annette. I don’t see it. He doesn’t love her.”