Chapter 30
Calida
I sat across from Dr. Carr, staring at the ring on my finger. My thumb ran over the rough texture of the symbol, and my knee bounced uncontrollably. My head throbbed. My mind gave me no peace last night, I couldn’t shut it off, so I spent the entire time tossing and turning. Over and over it went between things with Seth and my fights with Malcolm; it was as if they were merging into one. One force out to take my sanity, to cut that final string that held me together.
“Calida?”
I looked up. Dr. Carr wore a puzzled expression. She’d probably asked me something. When was she not asking me things?
“Sorry. I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“What’s on your mind? You seem particularly distracted today.”
I nodded. Everything was so off balance now, and I was at a loss on how to again find my center. I’d been doing all I could to keep my head above water, but now I was drowning. I was drowning, and there was no one to save me.
I wiped away a stray tear that rolled down my cheek. “Everything is falling apart,” I whispered.
“What is?”
“Everything. I’ve done exactly what I was trying to avoid, caused a rift with Mal and Macy, everything is a fucking mess.”
“What happened?”
I shook my head. How could so much happen, but at the same time nothing? My world, the safety net I’d been trying to build had crumbled, and it was all my own doing. Pandora’s box was open.
“Calida, talk to me. It’s why you’re here. Holding it in is toxic. Something has triggered your panic attacks again. You’ve seemed more withdrawn. This is a safe place. You don’t have to internalize things.”
I looked down at my hands, and twirled the ring around my finger. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I’d held it in for so long. I would spend my nights curled up, alone and crying until I didn’t think I had tears left. Always alone, so that in the day I could be strong. So I could show them what they wanted. But it was getting harder.
“I...I can't live up to the expectations anymore. I never could.” My voice was scratchy as I fought to hold it together.
“What expectations?”
My knee bounced faster. My stomach churned. I let out a slow breath. “They wanted me to be better, so I was better. Only I wasn’t. I’m not. I won’t ever be better. He’s in my head. Even in death I’m not free of him. I’m scared of my son. How fucked up is that? The older he gets, the more he looks like his father, and I’m scared. The eyes. Why did he have to have those eyes? And I wonder. I worry. What will I tell him about who his father was when he asks me? Will he act like him? Is what was wrong with Seth genetic? I shouldn’t be scared of my baby. He’s not at fault, but at times I am. Every day he’s a reminder of Seth. Every day I look at him and remember I killed his father. Every day...every...day I look at Shawn and remember how he came to be. I try not to, but it’s always there in the back of my mind. And now Malcolm knows, and he...he couldn’t even look at me! I don’t want Shawn to be treated differently, but Malcolm knows. They wanted me to be better. They wanted me to be over it, and so I was, or pretended to be, but I’m not. I can’t do it anymore. I worked so hard to bury it all, to hide away all the things I let Seth do to me, but they won’t stay down anymore. Ever since Malcolm...more and more have escaped from that box. It...it won’t stay closed. I need it to stay closed. It’s the only way I survive.”
The battle was lost. Like last night, the crying couldn’t be stopped. Now that the wound had been reopened, it bled fast and furious. The words, the shame, the guilt, all of it poured out of me uncensored. For so long my life, my every action, had been consumed with keeping the worst of it hidden. If no one knew, I could pretend it didn’t happen, but in one stupid, drunken night I’d blown it all.
I felt a hand on mine. Dr. Carr was kneeling in front of me, box of tissues in hand. I waited for what was to come, for her to analyze everything I’d just said, to poke and prod, wanting more information. She said nothing. She stayed there, holding my hand until I managed to calm down.
Once my crying slowed from the body shaking sobs, to hiccupping stutters, she got up, returning a few moments later with a bottle of water. I took it without looking up, thanking her between hiccups. I watched her feet as she walked back to take a seat across from me. I curled up in the leather chair, hugging my knees to my chest. I was wiped out. Raw. Exposed. Defeated.
Time ticked on. Only my constant sniffling and the ticking of her desktop clock filled the room with sound. She didn’t ask me any questions. She wasn’t writing down everything I’d just said. We sat in silence. The tears finally stopped. I finished the bottle of water. The silence became uncomfortable.
Even after drinking the water, my throat remained dry. “I’m sorry,” I managed to croak out.
“For what?”
I uncurled from the chair and looked at her. “For...for breaking down like that I guess. I don’t know...I just...I don’t know.” I let out a shaky breath. I didn’t want to think anymore. I didn’t want to feel anymore. I only wanted to climb in bed and shut out the world.
“You don’t have to apologize for that. Here is where you can get those things out, freely and unashamed.”
I gave no reply, since I didn’t know what to say. Turning back, I checked the time. We still had ten minutes left in our session, but I had nothing left to give. Picking up my purse, I stood. Dr. Carr did the same.
“You still have some time left if you need to sit. We don’t have to discuss anything.”
“Thanks, but I’m tired. I’ll see you next week, Dr. Carr.”
My legs were lead as I walked to my car. I’d just bared my soul, and yet I’d gotten no relief, no freedom from carrying that secret for so long. During the drive to my parents’ house, I tried my best to put it all out of my mind. I needed to get my game face on.
Soon as I saw my mom’s smiling face, I wrapped my arms around her. I buried my face in her shoulder and held on for dear life.
“Sweetie, is everything all right?” she asked, returning my hug.
I nodded, not sure that I trusted my voice. Mom didn’t question me further. She just let me hold her. We stayed that way until Dad came to investigate.
“Hey, Sandy who...oh, baby girl, you okay? Who do I have to hunt down?”
I pulled away, laughing at his comment. “I’m fine, Daddy. Sometimes a girl just needs a hug from her mom.”
Mom smiled as she cupped my cheek. “I have an endless supply of those.”
Shawn started wiggling to get free. Dad put him down, and I kneeled holding my arms out as he eagerly ran to me. His little arms contained the power to make all the bad melt away.
“How’s my favorite little boy? Were you good for Grammy and Pa-Pa?”
“Yes!”
“Yes, he was,” Dad affirmed. “Come on, buddy, we have a castle to finish building.”
I put Shawn down, and he took off running back down the hall with Dad following behind him.
“You hungry? I was about to fix lunch.”
“Yeah, lunch sounds good.”
She placed her hand on my back, and rubbed in small circles as we started down the hall. “You sure you’re okay? You look troubled.”
I forced a smile. “Yeah, I’m good.”
∞∞∞
When we got home, I was surprised to see Dorian’s car in the garage. I wasn’t sure if she had always been a workaholic, or if this was a new thing because of her divorce, but most days she worked late, not getting home until seven or eight. The sight of her car made me realize his were really gone. I stared at the empty spaces that used to house his cars. I wasn’t sure how I felt not seeing the dust covered car wraps. I hadn’t stopped to think about it this morning since I was tired and running late for my appointment, but now it was odd to have them gone.
Shawn started fussing in the back seat, taking my attention away from the empty parking spots. Dorian was on the phone when we walked in. She threw her hand up in greeting before turning her back to continue her conversation. I put Shawn down, who instantly headed into the family room. I hung my keys on the hook; mine were the only ones there. I shook my head, trying to clear things out. I couldn’t let that train of thought pick up steam.
“In three weeks you’ll have the place all to yourself again.”
“That’s good. Any longer and I was going to start charging you rent.”
She rolled her eyes. “I have some papers I need you to sign.” She walked over to her briefcase and pulled out a manila folder.
“What are these?”
“Company stuff. Just sign where I’ve placed the stickies.” She held a pen out for me.
I took it and the folder, walking over to the couch. “Am I about to blindly sign over controlling interest to you?”
I heard the fridge open and close. She came over with a diet coke in hand. “No. I can explain it all, but we both know it’s pointless. You always get this glazed look in your eyes when I speak legal.”
She had a point on that. No matter how she tried to simplify things, I always felt lost when it came to anything related to Jokobi Enterprises. Opening the folder, I signed in the places she indicated.
∞∞∞
At the end of the night, after Dorian had gone off to bed, I found myself actually missing her company. She provided the distraction I needed to not think about the last few days. It was a strange thing to welcome her self-centered nature. Having the conversations always revolve around her in some shape, form, or fashion made it much easier not to think about my problems. Now, alone in my bedroom, staring up at the ceiling, they were all I could think about.
Malcolm. He hadn’t called, or even sent a text, today or yesterday. His previous ones had gone unanswered, so I didn’t know why I was bothered by the fact that he’d stopped trying. But I was. Some illogical part of me thought he would keep reaching out. He’d been so stubborn and adamant about being there for me, for making our relationship work, but I should have known better. I was damaged goods, and now he knew just how damaged. It only made sense he’d give up the fight.
I rolled over, hugging my stomach. That painful knot that had been there all day twisted. The walls closed in. Those memories I’d buried to make being here bearable coiled around me.