Page 190 of Perfect
“Um, kind of,” I say, holding myself tighter. “I don’t…it’s sort of fuzzy, and I don’t remember all of it, but I, um, I heard youscreaming and I…I wasn’tthere,but then I…was? Um, I, uh...I saw it. I watched you do it,” I say, whispering the last part. I feel the table start to shake as his knee starts bouncing, and when I look up at him, he looks genuinely terrified.
“Why are you here?” I let out a long sigh, caressing his ankle with mine.
“I’m not your mom, Theo.” His eyes widen, his body stills, and I think he stops breathing. “Danny figured out who you were and showed me photos of your dad. That’s why she left, right? Because she saw you do that?” We sit there quietly for a minute before his knee starts bouncing again, and I know I’m right. “She didn’t actually leave without saying anything to you, did she?”
“Don’t,” he snaps, his tone venomous.
“You’re going to have to tell me eventually,” I say quietly, and his jaw clenches as he looks over my shoulder at the clock. A guard calls out that we have ten minutes left, but Theo keeps staring at the clock. “Teddy, can you look at me?” He shakes his head quickly, and I press my ankle against his, but he pulls away. “Baby,I remember what happened, and I’m still here, okay? I love you and I’m not afraid of you.” His eyes finally dart towards me, and he stares at my mouth.
“Can you say that again?” His voice is quiet and stressed, and I trap one of his ankles with mine and lean forward.
“I love you, and I know you’ll never hurt me.” He looks extremely skeptical, even though he knows I’m not lying. “I wouldn’t have just moved intoourhouse if I was afraid of you, right?” His eyebrows rise slowly, and a small smile spreads across his face before it starts to slip, and he begins to look extremely concerned.
“Honey,if you remember anything about what happened in that room, youneedto talk to a therapist.”
“I’m not fucking talking about it,” I snap at him, and he looks taken aback for a moment before his face becomes almost pitying.
I can tell he’s thinking about what Danny did, and I fucking hate it.
***
Theo spends the next two weeks trying to talk me into seeing a therapist at every opportunity. He begs, he pleads, he tries to manipulate me. I give him every excuse I can think of, but he counters everything.
I tell him I barely want to leave the house, and he tells me most therapists do it over video now. I tell him I don’t want to find someone, and he says he’ll have Elise do it. I tell him I can’t afford it without health insurance, and he just laughs at me. I tell him I want to just bury it and pretend like it never happened, and he looks at me with concern and begs me to please just fuckingtry, if not for me, then for him,please.
I think about it, and I talk to Suzie. She’s very encouraging, but much gentler about it than Theo is. She shares some of how therapy helped her, and I realize that I not only need the help, Iwantthe help.
I tell Theo during our last in-person visit, and he’s thrilled. We spend the rest of the hour talking quietly and frantically, trying to get everything straight before the trial, including what to say about the tracker, because we know it will come up. The closer we get to the end of the visit, the more he starts getting that look like he’s memorizing me again, and the guards snap at us for being too affectionate when it’s time to go.
Our last phone call is a few days later, and it’s mostly Theo telling me how much he loves me and that everything will beokay, and me telling him that I love him and he needs to come home.
The following week, Suzie introduces me to an EMDR therapist, and I start seeing her once a week.
It sucks, but it helps.
My therapist encourages me to go to domestic violence support group meetings, so I do, but I don’t talk for weeks. I listen to other people talk about their lives and experiences, and so many of the things they say resonate with me, and I just sit in the back and cry quietly during most of the meetings.
Eventually, I work up the courage to start sharing, and it’s terrifying to be honest about it.
Well, mostly honest.
I tell the whole truth about Danny, and I tell some truths about Theo, as well as alotof lies.
Things start to get better slowly.
I build a new routine, which grounds me, and I pull out my planner and start filling it out. Anna and Jessica come over on Tuesdays, I have therapy on Wednesdays, and on Fridays, Catherine, Suzie, and Bailey take me to lunch or dinner or come over and let me cook for them. I use Theo’s extra car to drive into Portland on Saturdays to go to my support group, and I start using the gym in the basement instead of returning to the rec center.
I start to feel a little more normal, but there’s still no red ink in my planner.
After a few weeks, I tell Suzie I’d like to come back to work, and she lets me come back part-time, which goes a long way towards making me feel more in control of my life again.
Theo’s house –ourhouse – is close to the office, and I force myself to walk. I’m more aware of my surroundings than I’ve ever been, and I have to take a Xanax when I get to the office the first few times. I’m eventually able to make the short walkto work without panicking, and it’s one more thing that Danny tried to take from me that I can take back.
Over the weeks, my therapist and I start getting deeper about things other than what happened with Danny, which is highly uncomfortable for me. We talk about my drinking, my self-esteem, my marriage, my relationship with my parents, and I tell the truth about all of it.
When she explains codependency, I get anxious and try to change the subject, which doesn’t work. I get to a place where I can talk about it in the context of my parents and Danny, but I lie through my teeth about my relationship with Theo.
I don’t know if she buys it.
