I lowered my gaze to the wooden floor. “I reached a point where I wanted to hurt him back,” I said softly. “Not by cheating, but by pulling away. By becoming cold. By making him feel as replaceable as I did.”
I looked up. “That’s awful, isn’t it?”
Dr. Bonnie didn’t judge. “It’s human.”
I fell silent.
“Anger without a safe place,” she said quietly, “often turns into freezing. Shutdown. You didn’t become cruel. You became… exhausted.”
Tears welled up without permission. “I wasn’t given time to grieve,” I said, my voice trembling. “I had just given birth. And right after that… I was expected to keep going, to keep enduring, while I was still processing my husband’s betrayal.”
And then I cried.
“All this time, I’ve often wondered…” I drew in a slow breath, trying to steady myself. “Whether one day I could look at him without feeling pain.”
I lowered my gaze briefly. “Every time I see him, it’s not just him I see. It’s the memory of the betrayal. And it always feels like the wound is being reopened.”
I paused, gathering myself. “I lost my trust in him… and I’m tired of living with a pain that keeps coming back.”
My voice softened. “I still love him,” I admitted. “And that’s exactly why letting go feels so heavy. But I had to do it… because staying meant living with wounds that were constantly being reopened.”
Dr. Bonnie was quiet for a moment before she spoke. “The pain exists because your nervous system still remembers a threat that was once real. Broken trust doesn’t always heal justbecause love remains. And memories won’t stop hurting until you feel safe again. Not logically, but emotionally.”
She paused, letting her words settle. “This doesn’t mean the pain will always feel this intense,” she continued. “But it won’t heal by being forced into silence. It needs to be understood, processed, and given space.”
Her words didn’t instantly make me feel better. But something loosened in my chest, the understanding that this pain wasn’t being treated as a weakness to be erased, but as something that made sense.
I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, my breathing still unsteady. “So... it’s normal that I still hurt?” I asked quietly.
Dr. Bonnie nodded slowly, then said in the same calm tone. “It’s normal,” she said. “Your brain and body haven’t yet caught up to the fact that the threat is over. What hurt you isn’t happening anymore, but your system is still in survival mode.”
I swallowed, my chest tight. “So... will there be a day when I can see him without pain?” I asked softly. “Without my body immediately remembering the betrayal?”
Dr. Bonnie looked at me with full attention. “This isn’t about forgetting,” she said. “It’s about teaching your body that that chapter has ended. That you are safe now. The pain won’t stay forever, but it needs to be acknowledged, processed, and given time, not pushed away for the sake of healing faster.”
Looking back now, I understand why that first session mattered.
“Alright, five minutes are up, bug. Time to go.” Adrian suddenly said, pulling me out of my thoughts.
“Nooo, I wanna watch more…” Haille whined.
“We’ll watch more tomorrow, okay?” I said gently.
Haille pouted, then slowly pushed herself up to her feet, dragging it out a little. “Okay, Mommy.”
Adrian followed us toward the front door. “Good night, bug,” he said, pressing a kiss to Haille’s head.
“Bye, Daddy,” Haille said, blowing him a kiss.
“Good night,” I said to Adrian.
He held my gaze for a brief moment, then smiled, returning it. “Good night, Elena.”
CHAPTER 34
Adrian
The house was still unfamiliar in the mornings. Not empty, just new.
