“What happens next?”
My mind races, searching for answers, but everything is obscured from then on.
“I can’t remember,” I admit, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes. “It’s like there’s a wall in my mind, blocking the rest out.”
“It’s all right, Stella,” she reassures me. “It’s normal for suppressed memories to be difficult to access. We’ll continue working on this together. For now, let’s bring you back to the present moment. Would you like that?”
“Yes.”
“I’m going to count from one to five. With each number, you’ll feel more alert and awake,” she says. “And when you return to full awareness, you’ll bring the memory you retrieved with you. OK?”
“OK.”
“One,” she launches the slow count. “Two. Three. Four. Five.”
My eyes flutter open. I blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room, and to the earth-shattering things I’ve remembered.
Dr. Biel touches my arm. “How are you feeling?”
Like I was hit by a truck.
Like the whole freakyTruman Showof my life just imploded.
Like, from now on, I’m all alone in the world.
“Unsettled,” I finally say.
“That’s completely normal! Give yourself some time to process everything. We’ll continue to explore your memories in our next session. How does next Thursday sound? Same time?”
“Yes. OK.”
She makes a note on her computer and escorts me back to the waiting room.
Darrel is still there, reading something on his phone.
He jumps up from his seat. “Are you okay?”
I skew a feeble smile.
Dr. Biel tells him it was a taxing experience for me, and we’ll continue next week. Darrel writes her a check. I don’t know what they’d discussed before he brought me here, and what she makes of our relationship, but she seems to think I trust him.
I do. Unconditionally.
Even though I’m crashing with Gaby, all I’ve told her is that I broke up with my fiancé and had a major falling out with my parents, letting her assume that the former had triggered the latter. She was kind enough not to press me for more. It would’ve been impossible for me to tell her the whole story.
Dr. Biel ushers the next patient in, waves us goodbye and disappears behind her door.
Suddenly, the tears I’d been holding well up in my eyes and spill over. The next second, Darrel is by my side, and then I’m in his embrace. His strong arms wrap tightly around me, offering infinite comfort. I bury my face in his chest. There are so many emotions bubbling up and brimming over that my entire body shakes.
“Let’s get you out of here,” Darrel whispers, holding me close. “I’ll drive you to your friend’s place. We’ll talk on the way.”
“I’m not ready,” I manage through my sobs.
“Then we’ll talk later, when you’re ready, and if you want to talk about it.”
I nod against his chest, grateful for his understanding. Together, we leave the waiting room, with me leaning on him. I feel like a deflated balloon. There is nothing left inside—no physical or mental energy, no emotions, no thoughts.
Just immense fatigue.
