Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96513 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
“Katherine, is that you?” one of the women asked.
I turned around and was surprised to see a face that I recognized. Though… just barely. Last time I’d seen her, she had been under a hundred pounds, and her hair had been falling out. She’d been eating through a feeding tube for a while as the hospital tried to ween her off of purging everything she ate. We’d been in the same facility and then a closed therapy group in the city for a year after that.
“Melinda?” I asked in surprise.
“It is you!” Melinda leaned forward and pulled me into a hug.
She was no longer stick thin. She was now a shapely woman with sloping curves and a round face. Her hair fell to her shoulders and was as thick and curly as could be. She could have been a different person.
I held her at arm’s length. “How are you doing?”
“Excellent. Really excellent. I’m working with the church now. I’ve found my calling.”
“That’s great,” I told her.
“Yeah. I had a few rough years after we stopped our therapy sessions,” she confided. “I got married, but… it didn’t work out.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Yeah.” She glanced down at the ground. “Maybe you’ll understand. It’s still hard to talk about at church.”
“Your divorce?” I asked.
She shook her head. “They’ve been understanding about that. But… you know, the infertility.”
My ears started ringing. I felt like someone had smashed cymbals against my head. “The… what?”
“Well, that’s why you’re here, right?” Melinda asked, biting her bottom lip. “This is the volunteer hour for the group I founded. It’s for women who are going through the same struggles I went through. I want them to know that they’re still strong, powerful women even though they can’t bring a child into this world. We have so many anorexia cases.”
Cotton balls clogged my throat. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think.
“Katherine?” she asked gently. “You can talk to me. We’d love to have you join us.”
“No,” I said roughly. “No, sorry, that’s… that’s not why I’m here. I’m working with ChildrensOne to plan an event to raise money for the cancer ward.”
“Oh!” Melinda said, putting her hand to her heart. “I am so sorry. Look at me, letting my passion for my cause get ahead of myself. Well, thank God Almighty for that. I worry every day for all the girls that we knew during our dark days.”
I nodded, feeling like I was going to throw up.
Infertile.
She’d used the word infertile.
I had known it was a possibility for people who had gone through anorexia. But I’d never considered it for myself. Not once.
I needed to get out of here. I needed to get far away. Somewhere safe, where I could hyperventilate in privacy.
“It’s so good to see you again, Melinda, but I’m actually late for a meeting,” I lied.
She said something in return, but I hustled out of there as fast as I could. It wasn’t until I was in the comfort of my own car that I curled into a ball and tried to keep breathing.
21
Katherine
The logical thing to do would have been to take a deep breath and let it all out. Then release the panic quickly settling into my body and try to move on. Maybe even think about why this frightened me so much.
But I rushed right past logic into undeniable, impossible, desperate fear. Panic-inducing, hyperventilating, choking dread. And I couldn’t think and I couldn’t speak and I couldn’t feel. Not anything other than anxiety. There was nothing else, except that one question.
Am I infertile?
Tremors ran through my body. I didn’t know. I didn’t know the answer to that question. I hadn’t been as bad as Melinda, but we’d all been in the same hospital. We’d gone to therapy together for a year after that. She knew all the pains I’d had at the time. There was a reason I’d sharply cut anyone from that time out of my life. I didn’t want a constant reminder of what I’d done to myself and how hard I’d given up on everything.
The only people I still talked to who knew what had happened was my crew. They’d stuck with me through the worst of it and promptly never brought it up again after I demanded they stop babying me.
But now? Now, I felt like I was in free fall.
I hastily canceled my training session. There was no way I was going to be able to compartmentalize this before I saw Rodrigo. I didn’t even know when I’d be able to put myself back together.
The Mercedes dropped me off at my building, and I took the elevator to my penthouse. I marched right over to the wet bar and poured myself a stiff drink. I slurped it down and then poured another. I felt slightly more fortified after the first and took the second over to the couch.