61. Jessica
October, Present Day
Maple Ridge
“How arethings going with your relationship with Troy?” Robyn asks during our next therapy session. Until a moment ago, I was still buzzing with excitement over Anne’s and my conversation from yesterday. Robyn’s question is the swinging arc of a butcher knife, cleaving my excitement in two, letting my joy bleed out.
I wince, scrambling too late to keep the pain from showing on my face. “I ended it a month ago.” Right after my last appointment with Robyn. I hadn’t planned to bring it up, and he clearly hasn’t mentioned it to her, but we’re only a few minutes into our appointment and I’ve already revealed that knife-to-my-heart truth.
A flicker of surprise barely registers in Robyn’s expression, the otherwise calm mask of professional curiosity. She leans forward in her chair. “Do you want to discuss what happened between you two?”
No. Not really.
“Well, first, he had so much going on at the time.” The words rush out before I can stop them. And then I just let them continue to spill, my fear for him fueling them on. “I was afraid all my problems were just adding to his load. It wasn’t good for his mental health. I didn’t want him to break because of me.”
“He has been dealing with a lot lately. And so have you. That can definitely put a strain on a relationship, as well as on you both individually. You said first. Was there another reason for ending things with Troy?”
“He wants a family one day,” I blurt, my runaway mouth clearly on a roll.
Robyn doesn’t say anything, possibly waiting for me to elaborate.
My breath fans over my lips as I consider how much to divulge. But Robyn has a way of getting me to reveal my darkest secrets, so I might as well jump straight to this next truth. “I’m not sure I can give him that.”
“What do you mean?”
Her question is so straightforward. The answer isn’t. It’s convoluted and messy. It requires stripping away the layers of myself, spreading myself out bare. “I-I’ve lost Amelia…” My throat tightens with all the emotions battling to have their say. I can barely rein them in. “I-I can’t go through that again.”
“When you say you can’t go through that again, do you mean giving your child to another family because the situation at the time forced you to make that choice? Or do you mean in a more general sense?”
“In general. Life is fragile. Anything could happen to the child.” I’d known this was a possibility before I became pregnant with Amelia, and it hadn’t bothered me then. It’s a risk all parents face whether a child is biologically theirs or adopted. But the truth to it hits harder after giving up the rights to my daughter.
“That’s true. Having children is scary when you think about it in those terms. And there’s nothing wrong with not wanting more children. But I’m wondering if there’s more to it than just you ending things with Troy.”
I lift my shoulders in an easy shrug, not allowing myself to squirm on the couch in response to her knowing gaze. “He lost his best friend to PTSD last year.”
I see in the brief glimpse of emotion that slips onto her face that Colton had been part of her life too. That makes sense. She went to school with Troy, which means she would have also known Colton and Olivia.
“I just figure Troy and Olivia would be better together than Troy and me. He adores Olivia’s daughter,” I explain. “They’re already a family.”
Robyn leans back in her chair. “Did Troy tell you that he would rather be with Olivia than you?”
“No. But why wouldn’t he? They’ve been best friends since they were kids.”
A small smile appears on Robyn’s face, a flash of nostalgia creasing the corners of her eyes. “In school, we always called them The Three Musketeers. You rarely saw one without the other two. Or at least it was that way until Olivia and Colton became a couple.” Robyn’s smile eases away. “So you think Troy and Olivia should be a couple because they’ve been best friends for forever?”
“Not just because they’re best friends, but because they’re perfect for each other.” Saying it aloud sounds less convincing than it did in my head.
“And does Troy agree with this?”
“He didn’t when I broke up with him, but maybe he’s changed his mind.” Now that I’ve practically pushed Olivia and him together.
“And what if he hasn’t?”
I shrug again, giving my shoulders quite the workout. “It doesn’t matter. Troy got tired of me always breaking things off with him. According to him, I push away people I love.”
Robyn’s head tilts to the side, her eyes diving deep into my soul, searching for the answers I’m not sure I even know. “Is he right? Do you keep pushing the people you love away?”
I open my mouth to say they leave me, but Troy is right. Granny didn’t intentionally leave me. Amelia didn’t leave me; I gave her away for her own good. Only my parents gave up on me.
When it comes to pushing away people I love, only Troy fits in that category. I didn’t push my late husband away. I’d tried to escape him for my daughter’s sake and mine. “No. I only pushed Troy away,” I tell Robyn.
“Do you love Troy?”
I hang my head, the sound of his name an arrow shot through my heart.
I lift my eyes to Robyn’s. “I do.” No point denying it. It’s not as if she’s going to tell him. They aren’t in middle school anymore. She’s a therapist. A professional.
“Did you tell him you love him?”
I shake my head.
“Why didn’t you?” There’s no judgment in Robyn’s tone, but I do wonder how much of her interest in the answer has to do with her personally knowing Troy.
Why didn’t I tell him?I close my eyes for a moment, exploring the question and answer from several different angles. “Because…because I’m not good enough for him. I’m damaged.” There. I’ve said it.
“Are you damaged?” Robyn asks. She has that professional challenge in her eyes I’ve seen numerous times during our sessions. A challenge that has me questioning my own assumptions about myself. “The woman I see sitting in front of me isn’t damaged. She’s growing stronger and is dealing with some of her past issues so she can be a strong and healthy and happier woman. She has worked hard to be where she is today. You’ve worked hard, Jess.”
I bend down and stroke Bailey. Robyn’s right. I might still have dents that haven’t yet been removed from my previously damaged shell, but I’m not the same woman who left Beckley more than six months ago.
I’ll probably always have dented armor, but it doesn’t mean I’m the mangled wreck I once was.
“My late husband enjoyed making me feel unworthy.” A fact I’ve shared with Robyn during one of our earlier sessions. “He did a great job at it, and I guess I learned his lesson too well. I…” I…what? I left prison feeling unworthy of love. My late husband did that to me. He made me doubt myself. Made me feel weak and helpless.
I’d clung to that lie even when Troy told and showed me countless times that he loved me. I’d clung to that lie even when Troy showed me again and again and again he is nothing like my late husband.
Instead of telling Troy I loved him, I kept the truth from him. I tried to protect myself from him eventually believing I wasn’t good enough for him. I let the protesters feed that lie until it consumed me. And I let myself cling to those self-destructive feelings Wayne ingrained in me.
I haven’t been honest with Troy, and I haven’t been honest with myself. I was too busy pushing Olivia toward him to see it. Olivia. Nova. Amelia. I’ve been constantly hiding behind them. Constantly using them as a shield.
“Do you think…do you think I’ve been using Amelia and Nova and my fear of having a family as an excuse for not letting Troy fully into my heart? Because I feel unworthy of his love? And that’s why I couldn’t tell him I love him?”
“I think you might be on to something.” A pleased smile quirks her mouth. “You seem to be constantly focused on making sure everyone else has a better life—like Violet and Sophie, Amelia and Troy—you tend to ignore your own needs.
“Do you remember what we discussed about Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs? To reach the higher levels of esteem, recognition, and self-actualization, your lower-level needs must be met first. And that includes love and belonging.”
I nod. I do remember that. For now, my physical and safety needs are met, and I have friends, but I haven’t allowed myself to fully love…because I let Wayne and the protesters and anyone else who thought I wasn’t good enough…I allowed them to manipulate me into believing deep down they were right.
Maybe that hadn’t been everyone’s goal, but I still let them have that power over me.
I had let my late husband’s mind games win.
I release a slow breath through my nose. “Too bad I hadn’t figured this all out sooner.” Before I broke up with Troy. It would have saved me a lot of heartache.
“It could be now that you’re on the antidepressant, you’re able to see things clearer. Your depression and anxiety fed into your misguided view of yourself. It became an endless cycle that was hard to break from.”
That makes sense. “Alright,” I say, feeling somewhat better, but no less brokenhearted. “I’ll do better in opening my heart to another man. In the future. But it’s too late with Troy. He’s now with Olivia and Nova.”
Robyn’s eyebrows lift in surprise. “I’m usually not in the business of reporting on gossip, but I saw them at the festival last weekend, and it looked like Olivia is with Lance Reid.”
She is? I mean, I know Lance is really into her. That much was obvious the day I interviewed her for the PTSD article and he came over to her house. But I had no idea they were seeing each other.
“It’s still too late,” I point out. “Troy doesn’t want to take a risk with me again. I have a bad habit of breaking his heart.” I grimace at how often I’ve done that, believing each time I was doing the right thing. For Violet and Sophie. For Troy and Olivia and Nova.
“Only you can decide what you want to do, Jess. But it wouldn’t hurt to be honest with him and tell him what you’ve told me. That would be a start.”
Be honest. I can do that. The question is, will Troy give a damn about what I have to say?
Or has my emotional breakthrough come far too late?