Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94687 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 473(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, April. You’ve come a long way in just a few months.”
My throat caught, and I swallowed hard. “Thank you.”
She set her iPad aside and crossed her arms. “Do you remember what you told me the first time you came in? The reason why you were seeking therapy?”
I thought for a moment, looking out the window of her office at a magnolia tree bursting with spring blooms. Back in February, when I’d first sat on this couch, the tree had been stark and barren, its branches lined with snow. “I wanted to be happier. I wanted to feel less alone.”
“You wanted to be in a relationship. It’s okay to say it out loud—we all want to feel loved and accepted.”
I wondered what that would be like—to feel loved and accepted, deep dark secrets and all. I only knew what it looked like from the outside. Over the last year I’d watched all four of my sisters find their soul mates. “Yes. I would like that.”
“But we have to start by loving and accepting ourselves. When we began, you were frustrated because you’d thought hiring someone at work was going to help. You thought less time on the job and more down time would help. You thought taking a vacation would help.”
“Right. And then I did all those things—hired a second event planner, joined a gym, took a beach vacation, and I still felt . . .” I threw up my hands and looked at her again. “Stuck in this lonely, unhappy place. Like I’m on an island by myself watching everyone else on the mainland being happy.”
Prisha regarded me silently for a moment. “April, it was clear to me very quickly that you weren’t going to become happier just by working less. Once we explored your past, I felt certain that the isolation you were experiencing, and that sense of feeling stuck, was not because of your job, but because of this secret you’ve kept for eighteen years—this unfinished chapter in your life. You never wanted to tell anyone about the baby you gave up because you were scared they’d judge you the way you judge yourself, so you never let anyone get close to you. It was a protective measure.”
I nodded, the lump forming in my throat again.
“Putting that letter in the mailbox—when you’re ready—is a step toward writing the end of that chapter, but talking out loud about what you went through will be just as important. I want to encourage you to open up about this to someone in your life that you trust. You’ve said only your mother and grandmother knew about the baby, is that correct?”
“And my older sister, Sylvia. But I have three more sisters I never told.”
She met my eyes. “Is there one of them you can trust?”
“I trust all of them,” I said honestly.
“Good. Your homework is to tell one—or all—of them about this time in your life. As scared as you are, as uncomfortable as it makes you, I believe it’s necessary for you to heal. Once that’s done, see how you feel about sending that letter.”
I nodded, knowing she was right. If I really wanted to get unstuck, I’d have to be brave.
“There’s something else,” I blurted.
“Oh?”
I looked down at the letter in my hands. “The baby’s father—there’s a good chance I might see him for the first time since . . . since then. His sister is getting married a week from tonight, and I’m the wedding planner.”
“I see.” She reached for her iPad. “How does that make you feel?”
“Nervous, I guess.” I played with one corner of the envelope. “I’m afraid I won’t know how to act. Once upon a time, we were really close friends. But then afterward . . . we never spoke again.”
“You’ve said you’re not angry with him.”
“I’m not. He felt just as terrible about what happened as I did. He apologized over and over again.”
“Have you forgiven him?”
I looked up at her. “Of course. We were both at fault.”
She nodded slowly and asked the question I was dreading. “Have you forgiven yourself?”
Two months ago, I probably would have lied and said yes. I might have even believed the lie. But I was trying harder to find the truth these days.
“I’m working on it,” I told her.
“Good.” She smiled softly. “And perhaps the timing of this reunion isn’t ideal from one perspective, but may I suggest another way to look at it?”
“Of course.”
“The universe works in mysterious ways, April. Perhaps this timing is meant to nudge you in the right direction. To help you let go of regret and embrace change.”
“Like a sign?”
She lifted her shoulders. “Call it anything you like. Just don’t be afraid of it. Only you have the power to hold yourself back or push yourself forward. Decide for yourself which one it will be.”