Page 125 of Breakaway Hearts

“What if he’s just good at hiding it?” I don’t know if he was about to give me an insightful reason, but I know exactly what’s stopping me. “He’s sweet and says all the right things, but what if he’s just waiting for something, or if he’s like that with me but every away game he’s…”

“Do you believe that?”

Dr. Kapoor has been trying to get me to figure out what’s legitimate fear of a likely outcome and what’s me catastrophizing. I say ‘trying’ because my past means I don’t let him get away with telling me something isn’t likely, because even if it’s a one in a million chance, there’s still that one it happens to. And the actual stats say sexual assault is disturbingly prevalent.

I sigh, because I don’t. I can’t. The more I learn about Owen, about his family, about the good he does without broadcasting it or expecting anything in return…of course I don’t believe that.

“No,” I answer him. “But I didn’t think it possible of Trevor either.” When I realized I’d been drugged, I thought how fortunate that it wasn’t happening to someone who came alone, that I had Trevor, someone I trusted, and I would be okay. “It would destroy me.” Because I’m pretty sure I’ve fallen. Or am very deeply falling. And not that ignorance is bliss, but I can’t.

“I can’t address this boy’s character. What he would or wouldn’t do. I’m not going to tell you to trust him or give him a chance or anything like that. I am going to say that you are much stronger than you give yourself credit for.” I roll my eyes at him. “And while I do understand where you’re coming from…it sounds heartbreaking to constantly hurt yourself first, before anyone else has the chance to.”

He doesn’t say ‘whether or not they were going to’, but it’s implied.

“It’s okay. I’m good at surviving.” The constant refrain growing up when money was tight was ‘we’ll manage; we always do.’ After my dad died it switched to ‘we’ll survive; it’s what we do.’

“It’s okay to want more. You should want more.”

“You’re looking at me like I’m failing therapy,” I say like I’m joking, but I’m not.

“You’re making excellent progress,” Dr. Kapoor assures me. “But I’m concerned that instead of truly moving past what happened to you, you’ve just accepted that no one can be trusted, everyone might be a monster…you just live with the discomfort, constantly assuming everyone will betray you, so you won’t be surprised if they do.”

When they do, I want to argue, but that proves his point.

“You’re doing all these things, but you’re terrified.”

“Isn’t that the point? Doing things that scare me, getting back into society…even if it kills me,” I add, teasing, but he doesn’t smile, just looks at me sadly.

“The point is to heal, Madison.”

Chapter Fifty-One

Madison

Might be worth it

Isuccessfully avoid Owen at the shelter, even though I know he’s there. I appreciate Owen giving me my space, but I secretly want to see him, even if it’s just to tell him I can’t.

I know, when Dr. Kapoor puts it that way, that he’s right and I should want to let people in. But it wasn’t what was done to me that hurt the most, it was who did it, and everything that came after. The only sure way to avoid that is to expect the worst from everyone, and never let anyone get close enough that it would hurt me. I’ve failed, obviously, but it’s time to climb out of this ditch, not dig myself deeper.

I’ve almost made it the entire shift without seeing Owen, but as I’m getting ready to head out, I hear him talking to Jules on the bench. I try to quietly sneak out, but she sounds like she’s about to cry, and I can’t leave without making sure she’s okay.

“She used to smile all the time.” Julie sniffles. “Then today, I brought her daisies, and she didn’t even smell them. She just said she was busy. But she wasn’t, she was just staring out the window.”

“She’ll smile again,” Owen assures her. “It just takes a while, after something bad happens to believe you’re safe and it won’t happen again.”

“How do you know?” she asks. It’s clear she trusts and wants to believe him, but this isn’t something simple that he looks like he would know about.

I’m waiting to hear what he says, for Jules’ benefit, but also my own, because part of me feels like I might believe him. That it really is possible…I want it as much as Jules does.

“Have I ever told you about my mom?”

“The one the shelter is named after?” she asks.

I move a little closer, knowing how that particular story ended. I don’t think it would help Jules right now.

“No, that’s my dad’s first wife, my siblings’ mom,” he corrects her. “My mom doesn’t have a cool building like this named after her.” Jules giggles. “But when she was my age, she was married to a very bad man who hurt her.”

I hold my breath, wanting to reach out at the emotion contained in Owen’s voice, but he’s either lying to make Jules feel better, or his mom did not fail therapy as I am, because she seemed like one of the most genuinely happy people I’ve ever met.