Dr. D'Amore gently cuts in, "Atlas, let Wendy speak her feelings."
His face looks torn as he glances back to her, but he sighs and nods. He turns his attention back to me, and I give him a small smile.
"One of the things that hurts me the most is... the fact that you were hiding us at work. I know, and I understand the reasons but... "
The tears rush up suddenly with the feelings.
There was so much that was happening that day. My boys' first weekend alone with their father, and the anxiety I was feeling from that, talking with Liam about trying, and then Liam misreading the situation and thinking his father was cheating.
I shoved my hurt all the way back to focus on being a mother, on addressing Liam first, because that's what I'm supposed to do. That’s what any mother is supposed to do.
"It was just... like confirmation that Iwasinvisible. That we were invisible."
"You were never invisible, baby."
"I know that, but..." I trail off helplessly.
"It doesn't negate the hurt," Dr. D'Amore supplies, and I nodmy agreement.
"I know now that you never stopped loving me. I see that now," I tell Atlas, who looks at me with teary eyes. "I understand the reasons—seeing my face, seeing the boys, was triggering for you. Causing those nightmares. But it... it just hurt so bad to be hidden."
"I willneverstop apologizing for that—"
"But, I feel like I don't need an apology—"
Dr. D'Amore cuts in, "Wendy, what are you feeling when he apologizes?"
I wince and admit, "Guilt."
"You've been addressing your feelings of guilt with your therapist, correct?"
"Yes," I exhale in relief, "I can usually stop the thoughts in their tracks now. I can... identify where it comes from and talk myself through it. I'm..." I trail off, my eyes stinging, and I squeeze them shut, the tears overwhelming me as I squeak out the next words.
"I'm a good mother, and I think I'm a good wife."
"You’re thebest,"Atlas whispers, and my lips twitch as tears trail down my cheeks. He reaches forward, grabs tissues, and gently places them in my hand.
"Wendy, you said something earlier about your mother,” Dr. D’Amore asks. “Would you feel comfortable expanding on that?"
Atlas jaw clicks from next to me, and his hand flips over on his leg, palm up. I don't resist, not this time, because my mother is one monster that, unfortunately, still has a hold on me.
Dr. D'Amore's lips curve slightly when I place my hand in Atlas' and his warm hand closes around mine.
Safe.
"My mother never let me forget that I ruined her life. That getting pregnant with me ruined her future. Thatallof the money she could have spent on getting her Master's, or travelling the world had to go to me. I wasn't eventhe daughter she wanted—I wasn't smart enough, or pretty enough, or athletic. I wasn't exceptional at anything. I was an unremarkable child who grew into an unremarkable teenager."
I glance down at our joined hands, Atlas thumb brushing against mine, and I smile.
"But Atlas never made me feel like that. I always felt important with him,” I look back up to his soft eyes. “I felt good enough. Extraordinary, even."
His hand squeezes mine.
"Because you are extraordinary. You're Wendy."
Dr. D'Amore smiles at this, scratching something down on her notepad.
"I wanted to be a good mother to my sons. I was so focused on not being the mother that I had, and taking care of my boys, that I almost forgot how to show them to take care of themselves," I exhale a shaky breath. "Once I got a job, and I started making money, that's when I felt worthy to show them."
