Page 98 of The Echo of Forever
“Naratriptan for the migraines,” I said, biting my lip to stop myself from leaving the rest out. “Benzos for anxiety, too. I feel like maybe that’s something you should know.”
She nodded slowly, but I could tell she didn’t like my response.
“Together?” Alyssa queried.
I nodded.
“Please don’t take what I’m about to ask the wrong way…” She paused, and I knew what would come next. “Have you been down lately? Any suicidal thoughts?”
My body burned to put an end to this line of questioning. Speaking openly about wanting to die in a blasé manner was one thing, but admitting to having them to a professional was another.
“Sometimes, I wish I could die. But the urge to go through with it isn’t there. Recently, I stopped taking both.”
Her expression softened, not with pity but empathy.
“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said, making a note on her tablet. “Let’s try something different then. I’m writing you a referral for a cognitive behavioral therapist and a prescription for eight hundred milligrams of ibuprofen. After I get your test results, we can discuss options for stronger oral medications, but I believe CBT, if taken seriously, can be a game changer.”
She handed me a pamphlet, the referral, and stood. But as our fingers brushed, I felt this spark of recognition.
“Alyssa…” I got off the examination table and regarded her closely. “Were we familiar with one another before?”
The way her gaze shifted gave me pause.
“We were acquainted, yes.”
I tipped my head and stepped closer.
“Is there something I should know?”
There was a clear battle happening in her mind, right before my eyes.
“Actually…” I shook my head, not liking the sense of dread filling my chest. “Don’t answer that. It’s probably best—”
She stepped in my path when I went to leave, then took a deep breath and said, “You were pregnant, Forever.”
Everything stopped.
Pregnant?
“Tell me that’s a fucking joke,” I demanded, shaking my head over and over at the seriousness plastered on her face. “Oh, fuck…” I turned to hide tears that seemed to understand even though I didn’t. “Did he know?”
I couldn’t breathe; the room started to spin.
“You wanted to surprise him.”
He…doesn’t know.
The sob that tore from my chest hurt.
I pressed my hand to my mouth, trying to hold it back, but more came anyway.
“You were eight weeks along. That was two days before you left. I couldn’t bring myself to tell him, and after learning you didn’t have your memories, it felt best to keep what I knew to myself. But just now, you remembered something, right?”
A baby?
I moved before my mind could catch up, grabbing the first thing I could get my hands on and hurling it across the room.
The crash was satisfying, but not enough.
