Page 101 of Heartstrings & Horizons
Paige
“You don’t have to come in with me,” I say. We’re parked in the parking lot of Dr. Hayes’ office. My appointment is set to start in 30 minutes.
“Paige, I’m going with you. I need to be in the waiting room when you’re done.”
“Okay.” I breathe a sigh of relief. Truthfully, I want him there but I also wanted to give him an out. He had been my rock this past week. I reached the lowest of lows and if it weren’t for Cade, I’m not sure what state I would be in right now. He held everything together when I was falling apart and I think I fell even more in love with him then. I know it was hard for him. I saw the agony in his face every single day, alongside the unwavering love and support.
I don’t remember another time in my life where I felt more loved than I did when he was holding me, or brushing my hair, or showing me his affection in all the little ways he cared for me when I needed him. If he could do that for me, then I could take this next step towards healing for the both of us.
Stepping through the doors of the little white building hand in hand with Cade, a sense of calm washes over me. The office is warm and inviting. I fill out all of my new patient forms and take a seat beside Cade to wait for my name to be called.
“Paige Brooks?”
“That’s me.”
“The doctor will see you now.”
I turn towards Cade, giving him a chaste kiss before lifting myself out of my chair.
“I love you,” I say and with one last squeeze of his hand, I walk off into the office.
The session was intense, unearthing feelings and memories I had long ago buried. She explained that my anxiety is a trauma response that causes me to self-sabotage in an attempt to shield myself from pain; to allow myself to predict an outcome, giving me the illusion of control.
The most profound revelation came when I expressed that my upbringing hadn’t beensoterrible and I didn’t feel like I should have a right to complain.
“Paige,” she said, her voice awash with compassion and understanding, “in terms of your childhood, I want you to reflect before you answer this question. Knowing what you know now, would you wish those experiences on another child?”
I paused for a long while, I’m not sure how much time passed, but I could feel the dampness on my cheeks as Dr. Hayes handed me a box of tissues. “No. I wouldn’t.”
“Your trauma may look minuscule compared to others, but it’s not the experience itself that’s important, it’s the impact it had on your life. Your experiences as a child shaped the adult that you’ve become. How that compares to someone else’s life is irrelevant. Don’t belittle everything you went through. Because you survived, Paige. You’re still here.”I’m still here.
I leave the office feeling raw and exposed, as though the weight of the depression has shifted, all the vulnerable parts ofmyself laid bare.
I cling to Cade’s hand, taking in the furrow of his brow as he leads us out to the truck. I don’t have any tears left to spill, so I just slump down in my seat and close my eyes. I feel drained.
Taking a deep breath, I finally glanced over at Cade’s concerned gaze. “I’m okay.”
He reaches a hand out, squeezing my thigh before leaning over to place a lingering kiss on my forehead. “We don’t have to talk about it. I figured you’ve probably had enough talking for one day.”
A weight instantly lifts off my chest. Cade has always known exactly what I need without words. “Thank you.”
“I’m proud of you,” he says, before shifting into gear and driving us home.
I knew this wouldn’t be an easy path, but I’ve taken the first step and that’s something.
Chapter 41
Cade
? Hey Girl - Stephen Sanchez
The early morning light shines through the picture windows as I descend the stairs to find Paige sitting at the kitchen island, an appliance that looks like a waffle maker resting on a cutting board, parchment paper laid out with large snowflake-like cookies lined up in rows, several of them already cooled and stacked. A faint smell of something sweet permeates the air, with a hint of black licorice. “Mornin’, sunshine. How long have you been up?”
“Hey. I watched the sunrise and got a sudden urge to make Nana’s pizzelles, I hope you don’t mind. I’m actually almost done but I have to wait for the rest to cool before I can stack them.”
“Of course I don’t mind. This is your home, too.” I say, rounding the island to place a kiss on her cheek. “Do I get a free sample?”
“I think that can be arranged,” she smiles at me, a hint of light sparking back to life in her eyes. It’s been 6 weeks since Paige started therapy and while I can’t say that the worries that havebeen plaguing us are completely gone, I have noticed a significant change. The color is coming back into her face and the darkness that crept into our days has receded. I can see a spark of something coming back to life as she finishes the last pizzelle. I don’t know if it’s the nostalgia in the act of baking her grandmother’s recipe, or something else; I just know I want to stoke the embers.
