Page 142 of Scars and Crowns

I look down at our hands. "I think I need help too." The sentence is much harder to say. Helping someone else feels safe. It puts me on familiar ground. I know how to be useful. I know how to solve things when they're happening to someone else.

Admitting that I need someone to help me is different. It makes my chest feel tight. "I mean real help," I say. "Not just you." He doesn't flinch. "I know you being there has helped me more than I can explain. But I don't think love is supposed to be the only thing holding me together."

His fingers tighten around mine. "I think I need someone who actually knows how to do this." I take a breath. "I want therapy." The word sits between us. It shouldn't feel frightening.

It does.

"I've spent seven years telling myself I'm fine because I got up every morning. I went to work. I raised Sara. I paid the bills. I laughed when she made jokes. I kept going." I look toward my daughter. "I thought that meant I was okay." My voice drops. "But I don't think it does."

Yuvaan is quiet for a moment. Then he lifts my hand and presses his lips against my knuckles. "Okay."

That's it.

No surprise. No pity. No look that makes me feel like I've confessed to something shameful.

Just okay.

I turn toward him. "That's all you're going to say?"

His mouth curves slightly. "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know."

"Then I'll say this instead." He shifts closer. "I'm proud of you."

My throat tightens. "You don't have to be."

He kisses my knuckles again. "You've spent years surviving something that should never have happened to you. And now you're telling me you want to learn how to live without it controlling every part of you." His thumb moves over my hand. "That's not weakness, Anamika." He looks directly at me. "That's choosing yourself."

My eyes burn. "I don't know where to start."

"Then we start there."

"With you finding someone?"

"With you choosing someone you trust." He pauses. "I can find options. You choose."

I nod slowly. "And if I don't like them?"

"We find someone else."

"What if I stop going?"

"We talk about why."

"What if it's difficult?

His expression softens. "Then it can be difficult." I stare at him. "You don't have to be good at healing."

Something about that sentence gets me. I look away quickly, blinking against the sudden sting behind my eyes. "I want to do it for Sara," I whisper.

Yuvaan follows my gaze. Sara has finally convinced the dog to sit. For approximately one second. She throws both hands into the air like she's just won a national championship. "I want her to have a mother who's actually okay," I say. "Not someone who's very good at saying she's fine."

"You already gave her something much more important than that."

"What?"

"A mother who stayed." I look at him. He nods toward Sara. "Every morning. Every bad day. Every time you were exhausted. Every time you were frightened. You stayed."