CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
I hated the clock in Dr. Thomas's office. It ticked loud as hell for something so small. I stared at it instead of answering her question.
"Kaior?"
"I heard you."
"I know."
I looked back at her, as she waited for me to respond. That was something I learned about therapy over the last few weeks. Dr. Thomas could sit in silence longer than anybody I ever met. She didn't rush me or try to fill it. She asked a question and waited until I was ready to answer it.
Eventually, I sighed. "I don't know."
"You've said that three times."
"Because I don't."
"What don't you know?"
"How I'm supposed to answer that."
"Then don't answer the whole question. Start with today."
I leaned back against the couch. Today wasn't terrible. That was progress. Because a few weeks ago, every sound made me jump. I couldn't sleep through the night, and Mama had started leaving the hallway light on because waking up in complete darkness sent me into a panic.
Things are different now. Not normal, but better.
I'd gone back to work. I was driving myself again, even though I still checked my mirrors more than I used to.
I could walk through a parking lot without feeling like I couldn't breathe most days.
I still checked the locks at night. Just not three and four times before I went to bed.
"I'm okay today."
Dr. Thomas nodded. "What does okay mean?"
"I got up. Went to work. Ate lunch. Came here."
"Did you sleep last night?"
"Most of it."
"Any nightmares?"
"One."
"What did you do when you woke up?"
I rubbed my thumb across my palm.
"Turned the light on."
"And?"
"Sat there until I calmed down."
"Did you call anyone?"
"No."
"Did you want to?"
I looked at her and again, she waited.
"I wanted to call Jokah."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because it was three in the morning."
"Is that the only reason?"
I looked away.
"No."
"What was the other reason?"
"Because I left him."
"Does leaving the relationship mean you can't speak to him?"
"We talk."
"How often?"
I shrugged.
"Sometimes every day. Sometimes we'll go a day or two."
We still talked, but never about us. Just little check-ins here and there to make sure the other one was okay.
Neither one of us mentioned me coming home.
Jokah hadn't asked, and I hadn't offered.
He was doing exactly what I'd asked him to do.
Giving me time and space. And somehow, the fact that he wasn't pushing me made me miss him even more.
"Who usually reaches out first?" Dr. Thomas asked.
"Both of us."
"And how do you feel afterward?"
"Better."
"Why?"
"Because it's him."
"What does that mean?"
I sighed.
"You really make people work for every answer."
"That's what you're paying me for."
I looked down at my hands.
"He makes me feel safe."
The words came out before I had time to think about them and I frowned.
"That sounds crazy."
"Why?"
"Because I left him because I didn't feel safe."
"Did you feel unsafe with Joaquin?"
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
"Or did you feel unsafe because of what happened to you?"
I stared at her.
"There's a difference."
"I know."
"Do you?"
I shifted on the couch. "I know Jokah didn't do this to me."
"I didn't say he did."
"But his life..."
I stopped.
"His life what?"
"Put me there."
The words didn't feel right as soon as I said them. I shook my head. "No."
Dr. Thomas didn't correct me. I did it myself.
"Those men put me there."
"Yes."
"They made that decision."
"Yes. But they knew who I was because of Joaquin."
"Both things can be true."
I looked at her.
"You can recognize that Joaquin's lifestyle exposed you to dangers you didn't have before without making him responsible for the choices those men made."
That sat with me.
"Do you blame him?" she asked.
I thought about it and I mean really thought about it. "No."
"Are you angry with him?"
"Sometimes."
"For what?"
I looked toward the window.
"His life."
"That's different from blaming him."
"I know."
"Do you blame yourself?"
My eyes filled before I could answer, so I looked down at the floor.
"Kaior?"
"I shouldn't."
"That's different from no."
A tear slipped down my cheek and I wiped it away. "I went to Target."
"And what were you doing there?"
"Shopping."
"Did you do anything that caused those men to take you?"
"No."
"Then going to Target didn't cause what happened to you. They made the choice to follow you, take you, and hurt you."
I swallowed hard.
"I still should've been more careful."
"How?"
"I don't know. Paid more attention. Looked around more… something."
"And before this happened, did you believe going to Target required you to prepare for someone to abduct you?"
"No."
"Then you're holding the woman you were before it happened responsible for knowing something she couldn't have known."
That hit me. Dr. Thomas stayed quiet.
"Jokah told me..." My voice faded.
"What did he tell you?"
I stared down at my hands.
"That he'd always come for me."
"And did he?"
My eyes burned. "Yeah."
I wiped another tear away.
"He came."
Dr. Thomas gave me a moment before speaking again. "You can be grateful that Joaquin came for you without making him responsible for saving you from every bad thing that could ever happen."
I nodded.
"And you can love him while still questioning whether the life surrounding him is a life you want."
That one hurt, so I looked away. "I do love him."
"I know."
"I miss him."
"Have you told him that?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I don't want him to think that means I'm ready to come back."
"Are you?"
I shook my head. "No."
The answer came easier than I expected. I wasn't ready. That didn't mean I didn't want him. It didn't mean I hadn't picked up my phone on some nights and almost asked him to come get me. It meant I still had mornings when I woke up scared.
Parking lots still made me nervous. Sometimes a man standing too close behind me made my entire body tense before I could remind myself where I was. I was getting better. I just wasn't there yet.
Dr. Thomas glanced down at her notes.
"There's something we haven't talked much about."
I already knew what she wanted to discuss. My hand moved to my stomach. "The pregnancy."
"Yes."
I looked down. I went to the doctor, and the hospital blood work wasn’t wrong. Neither had the test they repeated because I refused to believe the first one. I was pregnant and I knew for weeks, and somehow saying it inside this room still felt different.
"Have you decided what you want to do?"
"No."
"Do you feel like you need to decide immediately?"
"Some days."
"And other days?"
"I try not to think about it."
"Does that work?"
"No."
I gave a humorless laugh and wiped underneath my eye. "Nothing seems to work when I’m in here."
"That's probably because you're not supposed to avoid it in here."
I looked at her.
"That’s fair."
She waited. I rubbed my hand over my stomach.
"I always wanted kids."
"Okay."
"Just not like this."
"What does 'like this' mean?"
I looked down.
"Finding out after something like that happened to me. Leaving the father a week later. Not even knowing if we're going to be together."
I paused.
"And then there's Shania."
"Who is Shania?"
"Joaquin's ex."
"What about her?"
"She says she's pregnant too."
Dr. Thomas's expression remained neutral.
"How does that make you feel?"
"Like punching her in the face."
Dr. Thomas looked at me.
"What?"
"I'm in therapy. Aren't I supposed to be honest?"
"Absolutely."
"Then yeah. I want to punch her in the face."
I sat back.
"But mostly, I don't know what to believe."
"About her pregnancy?"
"About everything."
I looked down at my stomach again.
"I don't want to make a decision about my baby because I'm scared, angry, or worried about another woman."
"Then don't."
I looked up.
"That's it?"
"No. But you just identified three things you don't want making this decision for you." She paused. "Take Joaquin out of it for a moment."
"How?"
"Imagine you knew nothing about what your relationship with him would look like tomorrow. Imagine Shania wasn't part of the equation either."
She paused.
"This is your body and your pregnancy. What do you want?"
My eyes immediately filled. That answer scared me more than all the others. Because somewhere underneath the fear, the confusion, and everything that had happened, there was already a feeling I hadn't wanted to examine too closely. I looked down at my stomach.
"I think I want my baby."
The room went quiet. I covered my mouth as the tears came. Dr. Thomas gave me a moment.
"I think I want my baby," I repeated.
This time my voice broke.
"And what comes up for you when you say that?"
"Everything."
I wiped my face.
"I'm scared."
"Of being a mother?"
"No."
That answer came immediately.
"Of what?"
"Of loving something else Jokah could lose."
There it was. Dr. Thomas didn't rush to answer. She let me hear myself. My hand stayed over my stomach.
"And I'm scared if I tell him..."
"What happens?"
"He'll come."
"Has he ignored your request for space so far?"
"No."
"Has he pressured you to return?"
"No."
"Then what makes you believe telling him about the pregnancy would take away your ability to choose what happens next?"
I thought about it.
"It wouldn't."
"What would it do?"
I closed my eyes.
"Make everything real."
The baby was real, and so was everything I still felt for Jokah. Whatever happened between us would affect all three of us now. When I opened my eyes again, Dr. Thomas was still waiting.
"I haven't told him."
"Why?"
"Because the morning I left, I knew if I told him, I wouldn't have left."
"And now?"
"Now I don't know how to tell him without him thinking it changes everything."
"Does it?"
I thought about that before I answered too quickly. "No."
Then I shook my head.
"Yes."
Dr. Thomas waited.
"I don't know."
And this time, she didn't point out how many times I'd said it. Because I think she knew I finally meant it.