But I don’t think I can, not without erupting into tears. I’m having enough time holding it together as it is.
“Do you feel safe now?” Dr. Hale asks.
“I do. But... Daddy...” Ben doesn’t finish.
Dr. Hale’s expression softens. “Your daddy is healing, Ben. Sometimes when people get hurt on the outside, they need time to heal on the inside, too. Does that make sense?”
Ben nods slowly. “Is he hiding because he’s sad?”
“Maybe a little sad. Maybe a little scared. Butnone of that is your fault. Your daddy loves you very much.”
“Then why won’t he come out?” Ben’s voice cracks.
When a kindergartener asks the exact question you’ve been screaming into your pillow every night.
Dr. Hale looks at me. “Jess, do you want to help answer that?”
No. I absolutely do not want to explain why the man I’m in love with has decided emotional availability is for other people. But here we are.
“Your daddy’s face got really hurt,” I say carefully. “And sometimes when something changes about how we look, we need time to get used to it. Like when you got your hair cut short that one time and didn’t want anyone to see you for a whole day.”
Ben considers this. “But I wasn’t hurt. I just didn’t like it.”
I nod. “Right. But the feeling was kind of the same, wasn’t it? Not wanting people to see you until you felt ready?”
She nods.
Dr. Hale gives me an approving look. “That’s exactly right, Ben. And your daddy will come out when he’s ready. In the meantime, you and Jess are doing a wonderful job taking care of each other.”
Ben leans against my arm. I wrap it around her shoulders.
“Okay Ben,” Dr. Hale says. “Can you go play with Frederick for a few minutes while I talk to Jess about grown-up stuff?”
Ben slides off my lap and wanders toward her sticker collection.
Dr. Hale’s attention shifts fully to me. “How are youholding up?”
“Fine,” I lie automatically.
She just looks at me. That therapist look that says ‘we both know that’s garbage.’
I finally sigh. “I’m tired. Marco talks to me through a closed door. I haven’t seen him since the hospital.”
“That sounds exhausting.”
“It’s like being trapped in one of those reality shows where everyone votes you off but you can’t actually leave because a traumatized kid needs you.”
Dr. Hale makes a note. “Are you sleeping well?”
“Define sleeping well.”
She purses her lips. “More than four hours a night.”
“Then no.”
“Jess.” Her voice is gentle but firm. “You can’t pour from an empty cup. You need to take care of yourself, too.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I just... I don’t know how to do that right now. Everything feels like it’s barely holding together.”
