Page 34 of Yours to Conquer

He takes the card from my hand and holds on too long, so I yank it back from him.

“You are a beautiful woman, Emma. It was my pleasure meeting you.”

Ew.I wish I could say the same. “Take care.” I turn abruptly and head straight for my office. I have about thirty minutes before I’m expected to be at Dr. Lydell’s.

CHAPTER TWENTY

It’s been over a year since I last saw my therapist, and I arrive with only a minute to spare. I usually make an appointment around my mom’s death anniversary, but I thought things were going better this year. In the end, I guess I still need her.

I check in at the receptionist’s desk. Instead of waiting for a few minutes, I’m escorted right into her office. She sits comfortably in a leather chair and motions for me to take a seat.

“Emma, it’s good to see you. You look well. Tell me what brings you in today.” She lowers her glasses so she can look over them. She’s an older woman, probably in her early fifties, and has salt-and-pepper hair and baby-blue eyes. She has a thin, wiry-looking body, one that looks like it belongs to a long-distance runner.

“Nice to see you, too. As you know, this is the time of year I struggle the most. I thought I was doing well this year, but I seem to be falling apart rather frequently. I have a boyfriend, and we fought on Saturday. He did something that sent me running and hiding in his closet.”

She writes a few notes down and looks at me. “What sent you running?”

“He questioned my past, and when I walked away from him, he threw a glass. The sound took me to a dark place.” I shudder as I remember hiding in the closet.

“Why did you run away?”

That’s odd; of all the questions she could ask me, she asked why I bolted. “I don’t know. I guess I was tired and didn’t want a confrontation.”

“That’s not necessarily normal behavior for you, is it? I remember you being a feisty girl. You were always setting the rules. I believe you told me once, ‘It’s my way or the highway.’”

“No, you’re right. I usually fight back. I usually define the rules, but it’s different with Anthony. He’s a big man with a forceful personality. I’ve fallen into a more submissive role than I’m used to.” I think about that for a few minutes while she writes more notes.

“Is he threatening or abusive in any way? Do you feel unsafe?”

“No, of course not. He’s an amazing, gentle man. He’s bossy, but he is always looking out for me. He’s the best man I know.” Wow, that is quite a revelation.

“Okay, so why the broken glass?” Her eyeglasses get pushed down, and she looks directly at me.

“Why did he break it? Or why did I cower from it?”

“Tell me about both. I’d like to hear you work it out.”

“He broke it because I was walking away from him. I have been pulling back a bit, and I think he felt threatened. I’ve never been in love, and the vulnerability of giving someone so much power scares me. I can understand his frustration at me walking away. A reporter showed me a picture of him with his hand on a girl’s back, and I wanted to throw a glass.”

“Is your relationship exclusive?”

“Yes, we live together.” Well, we used to. I think we do. Oh, hell, I don’t know.

Her eyes lift in surprise. “That’s a big step. What else is happening?”

“I haven’t been feeling great, and I think it’s making me act like a crazy woman. One minute I’m laughing, and the next, I’m crying. I’m tired all the time, and I have been under the weather lately.” I touch my tummy, remembering the times I’ve thrown up in the last week. “I’ve had some stomach bug. I think if I could just start feeling better, I’d be okay.”

She sits there for a minute. The office is silent as she seems to work something out in her mind. “Emma, are your periods regular?”

What a strange question for a shrink to ask. “No, I’ve been considering changing from the mini-pill to the shot. I’ve had a lot of breakthrough bleeding the last few weeks, and I’m moody as hell.”

“Emma, I’m going to ask you to make an appointment with your regular physician. I think you may be pregnant. You have classic symptoms. I don’t want you to panic, but I think you need to at least rule it out.” She pauses and stares at me.

I feel like my world turned upside down. I can’t be pregnant. I take my pill regularly. Leave it up to fate to make me fall into the failed group. A three-percent failure rate doesn’t look too bad until you’re the one that’s pregnant. “Holy shit. I can’t be pregnant. I promised myself I’d never end up like my mom. If I got knocked up and he feels forced into marriage, how am I supposed to live with that?” I burst into tears.

Dr. Lydell pokes her head out the door and asks her receptionist to call her next patient and delay their appointment. She is going to need more time.

“Emma.” She hands me a box of Kleenex. “You live in a very different time. You get to choose whether to have a baby or not, to get married or not. You have options. You don’t even know that you’re pregnant yet, so don’t get all worked up about it. You can get a home test, although I think the blood test would be your best bet.”

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