Page 48 of Reclaiming Izabel

“A couple of my designs were optioned by the builders in this subdivision.”

“More like an estate community.” Gina rose from her chair. “Shall we?”

It wasn’t the brain-draining or grueling therapy session I’d been expecting. Remembering my mother reminded me of the strength she’d instilled inside me. I didn’t know what Gina was up to, but I was up for more.

It was laterin the afternoon over tea and sweet biscuits when Gina made her move.

We began with a baking session. The shrink had a penchant for French sweets and suggested baking madeleines. Surprised, I watched her unearth an antique madeleine baking tin and a hand-held mixer from her shopping bag. This was followed by the requisite dry ingredients. Then she walked to the refrigeratorand pulled out the butter and eggs needed for this traditional small cake of northeastern France.

I wasn’t complaining. I loved baking. Drake’s favorite was the tres leches cake. A recipe Ma passed down to me. Buttery fragrance permeated the air of the kitchen and wrapped around my heart like a comforting blanket. There was no doubt the walk and the baking exercise were part of Gina’s efforts to put me at ease.

When the madeleines were done and Gina suggested we partake of all our hard-earned work in the sunroom, my guard slammed up again, though not as closed off as it had been when we’d first met.

This time Gina brewed tea to go with the sweets.

The shrink smiled as she poured me a cup. “It’s Midnight Lychee. Nothing to worry about. Nothing mind-altering in it.”

“Sorry.” I did look suspiciously at Gina for a minute there.

I also tried not to swoon too much when the first bite of the petite cake melted on my tongue. Still, I couldn’t help gushing. “Ohmigod.” I swiped my mouth with a finger to keep a crumb from falling. “This is so good.”

Gina’s eyes clouded and she gave a small smile. “It was my daughter’s favorite.”

Was?

I finished the cake and took a sip of tea, forcing a smile when I looked back at her. “Was?”

“I had a daughter, Bobbi. She was eleven.” Gina picked up a sugar cube and dropped it into her tea and stirred. “She loved flowers, baby goats, and sweets. She loved running barefoot in the dirt and climbing trees. But the one thing she loved the most was baking with her gram.” She nodded to the plate of madeleines. “My mother was French and that’s her antique tin I inherited from my grandmother.” Gina’s eyes grew glassy. “I had hoped to pass it on to Bobbi.” Giving one shake of her head, shecontinued. “We never thought Bobbi would have such a severe allergic reaction to bee stings. She’d been stung before and the swelling wasn’t much. That summer, my husband and I took a much-needed vacation and left Bobbi with my mother on her farm. She wandered off into the woods, which was something she always did anyway. We believe she’d stumbled upon a beehive.”

I found myself reaching out to Gina, covering the other woman’s hand that was wrapped around her teacup.

“You don’t have to tell me this,” I whispered. “I understand why you are, but…”

“Bobbi’s death broke our family,” Gina said. “My mom blamed herself. My husband blamed me, and our marriage didn’t survive. I’m a psychiatrist and yet I couldn’t help the people around me because my grief made it difficult to see theirs. Eventually, my mother forgave herself. I never blamed her…but I lost her there for a while.” Gina flipped the hand I was holding and clasped ours together. She looked me straight in the eye. “I think Drake’s return yanked the bottom bricks from the foundation you’ve built to move on from him and your baby’s loss.”

Talons of anguish clawed up my throat, making it difficult to speak. I nodded rapidly instead, controlling the tremble in my lips. Exhaling raggedly, I said, “Knowing I was pregnant helped me hang on to that last thread of sanity. Losing the baby and Drake within months of each other was almost too much to bear…” I gulped back a sob. “There were so many times I prayed to God to take me as well…” My voice trailed off. “Why didn’t he just take me so I could be with Drake and our baby?”

“Oh, Izabel.”

“You’re right in a way. All my grief, all the strength I drew within myself to survive had become a joke. I was consolingmyself that Drake left a part of him with me when he died, and then I lost our daughter.”

Resentment scratched close to the surface of my skin. “Now I’m angry at him for not being there when I needed him the most.” I withdrew my hand from Gina’s, crossing my arms and hugging my biceps, wanting to disappear into myself like the many times I retreated from life when the pain became too much to comprehend. “I also feel guilt for not being supportive of the sacrifices he’s made. I knew he thought it was what was best for us. My mind is telling me he did the right thing, but I can’t help what I feel, you know?”

“Like he abandoned you?”

“Yes. I married a SEAL. I understood what I was taking on and yet he didn’t trust me enough to share the burden with him. That’s why it makes me so mad that he did this to me…to us.”

“He was desperate to return to you,” Gina said softly. “He’d hit rock bottom when I met him. His injuries were severe and he’d spent days going out of his mind thinking about what he was putting you through…”

“He should have found another way. I would have gone into hiding with him.”

“He didn’t have much choice then.”

“He told me and…I should understand him.” Tears scalded my eyes. “But it hurts too much and I’m afraid to be his wife again.”

Understanding showed through the other woman’s eyes. “If it makes any difference…when he found out you lost the baby, he was determined to come home to you.”

“Then why didn’t he?!” I rasped.

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