Page 110 of Ripple Effect
Present Day
Elizabeth
“Iknow you’ve been asked how you don’t have fully developed PTSD after this, Libby. How did you manage to move on with your life?”
I think about this question because the answer is a very personal one. “I was told to feel the emotions and not to bottle them up.”
“Who gave you that advice?” Dr. Powell asks. “Not that I think it’s incorrect. In fact, it’s probably what I would have recommended.”
“One of the SEALs. I was up on the flight deck on theLassen,heavily guarded,a few days after I was rescued. It was before Cal, the Alliance team, and I were being flown back to the States. I could see theSea Forcein the distance. I was shivering.” I start to shake now in memory. “He began to talk with me.”
Cal’s warmth seeps through me as he hugs me closer. It gives me enough strength to continue. “Coming face-to-face with a living funeral pyre that I, myself, almost died on, it left more than the physical marks on me. I was afraid to go to sleep, afraid to wake up—I was just afraid.”
“I think that would be understandable,” Dr. Powell says gently.
“But the biggest emotions I felt were desolation and shame,” I admit.
“Survivor’s guilt.” He nods.
“It was more than that. I lived, yes, but our child hadn’t. To have that confirmed may have been more awful than anything I endured on theSea Force. Then there was the loss of time. I was damning myself for being stubborn and walking away when I took a vow to Cal that I wouldn’t.”
“Your heart was suffering,” he concludes.
“Very much so. And when I couldn’t hold it in anymore, that individual was there. He recommended I talk to a specialized Navy trauma psychologist.”
“So, you’re aware there’s a difference between a doctor like me and a trauma-informed care specialist?”
I nod. “Very. It was explained to me during my first phone call with my doctor. I think he best explained them as guiding principles.”
“And you felt comfortable talking to a man after everything that happened?”
That question startles me. “I was with men who were just as traumatized as I was, Dr. Powell. Possibly more so. It wasn’t due to my sex that I was harmed; it was because I wasthere.” I place an emphasis on the last word. “Dr. Rhumed helped me identify what my ultimate goals were.”
“And those were?”
Without hesitation, I answer. “To be able to let my emotions run their course. To grieve the loss of the life of my baby. To mourn my marriage and to find my way back to what drove me to say ‘I do’ to Cal.”
“Let’s talk about the last one. What do you mean, mourn your marriage?”
Cal audibly swallows before answering. “Because there was still infidelity.”
Dr. Powell gasps even as Cal’s arms around me tighten from where I’m still perched on his lap. He does nothing to avoid Dr. Powell’s accusatory expression. “I thought you said…”
“I didn’t.” Cal’s voice is firm and strong.
“I’m confused.”
I spin so I’m facing Dr. Powell a little more fully while allowing Cal to hold the things most precious in his life—me and his child. “Some people would say I’m crazy for saying this, but Cal had an affair with Alliance.”
The confusion washes clean away from Dr. Powell’s face, leaving nothing but understanding. “Go on, Libby.”
“The reality is, my husband cheated on me from the moment we met by lying. And that, combined with the trauma I’d just endured, left me feeling like nothing. I felt like it might be better if I just wasted away,” I conclude softly.
The baby bumps hard against my stomach. Cal rubs the spot gently but doesn’t say anything. During counseling sessions with Dr. Rhumed, we’ve had this discussion numerous times throughout the years. And the answer is I belong right here in his arms where my heart beats in cadence with his. “There’s a feeling of being unable to trust your deepest emotions after a trauma. I wanted—no, needed to know that I could trust everyone around me. So, in order to live again, I had to live without Cal because I couldn’t trust him anymore.”
I turn in his arms. “I’m so sorry.” Even though we’re long past this, saying it still feels like I’m punishing him. Tears are coursing down my face at a rate more rapid than he can wipe them. He stops trying and just presses his forehead against mine.
Without lifting it, he addresses Dr. Powell. “Let’s be clear, Doctor. We were both wrong for very different reasons. I kept secrets; Libby wouldn’t listen. But it was due to my actions that our communication was damaged beyond repair. We make a conscious effort so that mistake won’t occur again.” He straightens, tucking me against him. “People all over the world have heard our story and judged each of us saying one or the other of us should have capitulated, forgiven sooner, forgotten what occurred before, or walked away.” He shakes his head against mine. “No one should judge us or our life together. Not unless you’ve lived it, actually walked through every moment with us. There is so much this woman had to forgive me for that I understood she had to let go to heal.”
