Page 28 of Playing Doctor

“He was devastated, became depressed. For the next two years he drifted from job to job. Our relationship became strained—we hardly spoke, were seldom intimate, and although he never actually said anything, I could feel his resentment toward me growing, as though it were my fault. The hardest part was he hardly paid any attention to Drew.” Her own resentment flared, as it always did when she thought about the way Jamie had shunned their son, an innocent caught in the middle.

“I think joining the military was a form of escape for him, his way of leaving us without actually leaving us, although I didn’t see it at the time. Once he started boot camp, he was suddenly the old Jamie again, vibrant and happy. The army gave him the structure and discipline missing from his life. It wasn’t football, but he was part of a team again. Our relationship improved, was even better than before, and he doted on Drew when he came home. I was so happy it didn’t register with me that I was the only one sad when it was time for him to return to duty.” She swirled her hand in the water, stared at her fingertips. She was pruning.

“Then he re-upped, was deployed to Afghanistan, came home less often—sometimes less than once a year. When they sent him home, he was a different man—the things he’d seen, the things he’d done. He became withdrawn, moody. ”

“PTSD.”

“Yes.” Beth rolled her shoulders, but the knot of tension refused to budge. “He had the usual symptoms, but the worst were the unpredictable episodes of anger and hypervigilance. VA arranged for family therapy, and Jamie dove into psychotherapy, became obsessed with it. Eventually his psyche backtracked, searched for and fixated on the moment when his life had changed. That moment had been when I told him I was pregnant with Drew. Then he went a step further and decided that…”

“Had you not had sex with him, none of it would have happened.”

“Yes.” Beth’s eyes shot up to Gabe’s at the matter-of-fact statement. He knew his psychology. She swallowed, her throat dry and tight, and reached for the wine Gabe had set on the glass-top table beside the tub.

“I’ve got it.” He poured two glasses, handed one to her, tossed his back, and poured himself another. Then he waited, patient and still, for her to go on.

“As is typical, it started with emotional abuse—everything bad in his life was my fault. My getting pregnant started it all, and he had no qualms about telling me so—I should have been on the pill; I should have used more restraint, said no, shouldn’t have liked it so much.” Tears burned the backs of her lids. She blinked them away. “When I pointed out that he had been an active participant as well, he told me I was oversexed and needed to see a psychiatrist.”

Gabe held up his hand, his doctor face firmly in place. Thank God there wasn’t any pity there. She could handle the shock, the anger, but never the pity. “You are not oversexed. His thinking was irrational. Labeling you was his way of shifting the blame for his failures onto you.”

“Yes, I know, but sometimes, if you’re told something long enough, if you’re vulnerable enough, you begin to believe it.” But it felt so very good to hear him say it. Knowing it hadn’t kept the insecurities from creeping in, didn’t give her the confidence to put herself out there again to risk a relationship with someone new.

“Shortly after that, the abuse turned physical. The first time he shoved me into the wall…” She shuddered, recalling the gleam of satisfaction in Jamie’s eyes when she’d cried out in pain. “It escalated from there, and then the night I told him I was pregnant again… I had known for some time, but…”

Gabe’s eyes narrowed. Beth could see the wheels turning, the physician compiling data. It wouldn’t take him long to put two-and-two together and come up with the accurate equation.

“You knew he wouldn’t take it well.”

“No. He didn’t take it well at all. Drew was there, tried to help me, and Jamie…he hit Drew.”

“And you lost the baby.”

No. I didn’t lose the baby. He beat it out of me.

“Yes, and the ability to conceive another. I have one left ovary, one right fallopian tube, and an off and on functioning uterus.”

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