Page 21 of Entwined IN YOU (IN YOU 2)

“Come, I don’t mind,” I croak, my throat dry. My lips feel glued together. So, I take a sip of the chamomile tea Aisha prepared for me to moisten them and warm my icy fingers.

“Here, take him. Leon’s desperate to get to you.” Raine puts my boy into my arms as I let out an alarmed squeak. I feel him catch my top with his strong fists. My son’s sweet smell invades my nose, and his closeness makes me happy. I missed him. I start to tremble.

“Please, I might drop him.” Tears stream down my cheeks as the fear of hurting him becomes a storm twirling inside me.

As if sensing my emotions, my little boy starts to cry. I focus on the cup in front of me, trying

to disappear. However, Leif doesn’t give two shits about my need to be invisible as he draws me into a hug, and so does Raine from behind.

For one precious minute, I feel cocooned in this peaceful embrace.

“I love you,” whispers Raine, but I can’t respond.

The guilt weighs me down. I feel undeserving of being around them. I’m so ashamed of myself, I can’t even look them in the eyes.

The doorbell distracts me from the depressing thoughts, and Dr. Neil walks in. I guess it’s time to face the music.

“Good morning, everyone, how have you been?”

Laisa looks at me for a fleeting moment before she meets Logan’s eyes, waiting for him to respond. “We are quiet today, nervous.”

Lucas makes her coffee, then we all go sit in the dining room, our plates piled up with waffles and maple syrup, grilled strips of bacon, and perfectly cooked eggs with a runny center. While we eat, they talk, and the tension becomes more bearable.

Later, as we settle down in the living room, Logan and I are left alone with the therapist.

“After yesterday, I reevaluated your condition and decided that changing your treatment method will benefit you more. There are few options we could use in the future. For example, Cognitive Processing Therapy, or CPT.”

“What does CPT do?” Logan questions while I sit, detached from the situation.

“It’s a twelve-week course, with sessions of sixty to ninety minutes. At first, Cassandra will be talking about the traumatic event. Discussing how those thoughts affect her life. Also, encourage writing about the car accident in detail.”

“Didn’t she already do that?”

It didn’t work.

“That could help to bring a better viewpoint to understand the grief. Cassandra will have a chance to examine how she thinks or feels about the trauma. We must figure out new ways to cope with it.”

“What are the other options?” Logan doesn’t relent, he is on a mission.

“Prolonged Exposure Therapy, P.E., involves eight to fifteen sessions. For instance, if the patient is avoiding things that remind them of the traumatic experience, this method could help to confront it. There are a few other treatments. My advice is to concentrate on the mentioned ones.”

“How about a medication treatment? Wouldn’t it work better?” I finally ask her, not believing in therapy anymore.

“At this point, we might need some medications to settle your brain from the memory overload. But we’ll need more time to evaluate your PTSD symptoms, to decide what medication might be the best option.”

“PTSD?”

“Yes, Post-traumatic Stress Disorder can happen after a frightening event. In your case, the car accident you witnessed. Even if you didn’t directly experience the trauma, the shock of it causes the episodes to occur. People with PTSD have insomnia, flashbacks, loss of self-esteem, and a lot of emotional distress. You might constantly relive the event or lose your memory altogether,” Dr. Neil explains the diagnosis as Logan turns to me.

“Cassandra, it’s not your fault that they died, you know that, don’t you? I believe you blame yourself for their deaths.”

Disbelief colors my face as I look at him, trying to figure out why he thinks differently.

“I left them!” Distressed, I jump to my feet. He doesn’t understand. “I heard him scream and I walked away!” Nate’s cries echo in my brain, shattering my sanity to pieces.

Logan grabs me and presses my back into his chest. I fight, but he’s far stronger than me, and he waits out the struggle. The cold encases me, and I’m left hollow.

“We’re going to get through this, I promise,” Logan whispers, holding me. The darkness pulls me in, and I welcome it. I belong there.

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