Page 10 of Choosing Hope
We waited in silence. She needed time to gather her thoughts.
“It was clear I wasn’t safe on the farm. I suspected they’d return for me. At twelve years old, my options were limited. I took what food and money I could carry and went to the city, hoping to find a hostel or somewhere safe where I could stay. A few weeks later, I met your father.”
I glanced at Carlo; his face was white. Chess’ words seemed to have struck a chord with him. The entire conversation targeted Carlo. So, even though I had questions, I stayed quiet.
“Is your sister still alive?” Carlo asked.
“I truthfully don’t know, though I have my doubts. When I went to live with your parents, their estate was in Geletini territory. Yourfather told me not to socialize outside of their tight-knit group, because so many young girls were being kidnapped each year.”
She looked straight at Carlo; their eyes locking.
“Your father has been extremely protective of me. He’s a kind man. I owe him an enormous debt.”
I sat up, taking a sip of water from the glass beside me.
“That conversation happened right at the end of the summer. Then; only days later, we had to leave for England, and our final year of boarding school,” I explain.
“It must have been hard to leave Chess behind after learning how vulnerable she was?” Dr. Klein observes.
“I think the events of that summer changed us both, the differences in Carlo were considerable. I never knew if it was hearing Chess’ history or simply meeting her, but she became a prominent figure in our lives.”
I rub my hand over my left cheek, weary after talking for so long but still keen to share all my history with this woman, so that she can give me the advice I need to move on.
“Carlo became more guarded; his previous bravado diminished. He was no longer interested in charming every woman he met, and he held me tighter at night when he couldn’t sleep.”
I glance at the doctor, who’s still scribbling notes on the pad in front of us. Her hand must ache from all the notes she’s taken. I study her, waiting for her to finish.
“That seems like a good place to break for today, Mr. Barton-Jones.”
I narrow my eyes, inclined to disagree.
“I see we have a meeting arranged for tomorrow?”
“Yes, I’ve been putting this off for too long. I need to find a solution.”
She smiles in her now familiar knowing way.
“Mr. Barton-Jones, the solution is inside you. We can discuss what’s happened in your life. I can help you understand your choices, but the decision about how you’re going to proceed must come from you.”
She must notice my shoulders sinking, or a change in my facial expression because she adds. “Have you found talking today useful?”
I pondered her question.
Before coming here today. I half expected it to be a waste of time. I made the appointment, because my friend's words plagued me and I knew if I didn’t at least try, I’d regret it. The scheme had the added bonus of showing I’d tried, and I hoped my action would help demonstrate to Sophie how serious I am about our relationship, and about finding a solution to fix our marriage.
My initial reluctance has therefore left me surprised that just by talking to this stranger, it already seems to be helping. I haven't had an epiphany yet but I certainly feel less of a freak.
“It’s helped normalize a few things in my mind.”
“I’m delighted to hear that,” Dr. Klein replies with a broad smile. “I’ll look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”
Chapter Three
Spencer
I’m surprised to see it’s dark when I step outside the psychologist’s office. I glance at my watch, unsure how long I’ve been with her. Brendon suggested I make an appointment for a two-hour consultation, but it’s been closer to three hours.
As I stroll toward my car, I consider what to do next. I should go back to the office. After being out most of the afternoon, there are bound to be tasks that require my attention, though the idea doesn’t fill me with joy.
