Page 98 of Cashmere Ruin

“So there was a trigger. And I think you know what that was.”

Dominic.The thought bubbles up before I can stop it. That house. Those people.

As if reading my mind, Dr. Knox nods. “That’s right. The visit to your father’s house. That’s when it all really started crashing down, right?”

“But that’s got nothing to do with the baby,” I protest.

“I agree. Because this isn’t about your baby, April—it’s aboutyou.”

It’s like the world has shifted under my feet. Suddenly, I’m knocked off-balance. “Me?”

“Yes. How you feel about yourself.” The doctor uncrosses her legs, leaning closer on the table. “I’m going to ask you a question now, April, and I want you to answer honestly. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“When did you first start thinking about going away?”

“I…” I mumble out. “You mean suicide?”

“No. I mean disappearing.”

I frown. “Like a fantasy?”

“Yes. Exactly like a fantasy.”

I force myself to go back in time. To years I’d rather forget. “When I was a kid, I used to imagine it. Just… not being there anymore. It was before Maia took me in.”

“And after?”

A stab of guilt pierces me. “Afterwards, sometimes, I’d still feel it. An urge to just… leave. To not be…”

“A burden?”

I nod. “Yeah.”

Finally, she snaps her notebook shut. “Here’s what I think. You’ve been holding up against tremendous stress your entire life. You grew up in not one, not two, butthreeavoidant households. Living with your grandmother was your respite, but even that didn’t last. Eventually, you were thrown back into it. Honestly, I wish you’d come to me years ago.”

I blink back tears. “So it’s too late? I’m fucked up now?”

“Not at all! I’m sorry—that didn’t come out right. I just meant that you’ve been needing this for a long, long time.”

Therapy.For some reason, it never crossed my mind. I thought the bad times were in the past. I handled that, so of course I could handle whatever else came along—right?

Apparently, wrong. So, so wrong.

“So I’m not a danger to my family?” I croak through unshed tears.

“Goodness, no. If anything, it’s your old family that’s a danger to you.”

The relief almost crushes me. “I’m not a bad mother?”

“In my experience, bad mothers tend to think they’re God’s gift to their children. Instead, you’re questioning yourself. That alone makes you a better mom than most.”

It’s pointless to try and hold back tears now. The dam’s broken. “What now?” I rasp.

“Now, we make an appointment for next week. You’re carrying a lot of guilt, April, and we need to work on that. Specifically, on how you see yourself. Because I can guarantee you, it’s a hundred times worse than what others see in you.”

I give her a wobbly nod. “Okay.”

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