Page 49 of One More Betrayal

Amelia’s voice replays in my head, and the air is yanked from my lungs, making it difficult to breathe. I never thought I’d get to hear her voice again. Every day while I was in prison, I would imagine what she looked like and how she sounded.

And now I know. I know how she sounds when she’s happy and when she’s singing.

“I’m jealous Grace knows what my daughter looks like in the morning when Amelia gets up for school.” I say the words as if they’re barbed, and if I’m not careful, I’ll shred myself to pieces from the inside. “That Grace gets to read her stories. Gets to sing with her. Gets to know all those details only a mother would know about her child. I’m jealous Grace is the one who tucks Amelia into bed at night and is the one who hugs away her hurts.”

I drop my gaze to the cream-colored textured rug beneath my feet. “I feel frustrated because I know why Grace doesn’t want me to see Amelia. I don’t blame her. Why should she trust me? I’m an ex-con. I’d be scared of me too, if our places were reversed.” My chest squeezes tightly just thinking about it.

“But you’re not an ex-con, Jessica. You’re an exoneree. And you’re a woman who found herself in an impossible situation. But you’ve also shown when it came to Amelia, you always put her needs above your own. You gave away your rights to her because you love her that much. It doesn’t sound like you’ve done anything to give Grace a reason not to trust you when it comes to Amelia.”

My eyes find Robyn’s. I wish her words were true. I haven’t given Grace a reason to not trust me. But that doesn’t matter. Our fundamental beliefs mold our perceptions. If she believes environment shapes the person we become, she might also believe prison negatively impacted how it reshaped me, no matter how good a person I was beforehand.

Which in many ways is true.

“Legally, your brother-in-law and his wife don’t have to let you see Amelia,” Robyn says. “It’s up to them what they want to do about you visiting her.”

I nod. I do know that.

“I’m not sure you are ready yet to be in Amelia’s life, Jessica.” Her tone isn’t cruel, just straightforward and with a note of compassion. “Yes, you have a job and a home, but you need to be in a healthier place when it comes to your mental well-being.” Robyn leans forward in her chair. “Why don’t we set a goal for you to strive for?”

“What kind of goal?”

“You want the chance to be in Amelia’s life, but first you need to work on the guilt you’re holding on to because of what happened. You did nothing wrong. That was all on your late husband and whoever killed him.” I’m sure Lincoln, my husband’s younger brother, would disagree. “We also need to address the shame you’re experiencing. So how do you feel about setting the goal of dealing with those two emotions, so you’re in a better place mental-health wise?”

“What about the PTSD?” The reason I’m seeing Robyn to begin with.

“The PTSD, the feelings of shame and guilt—all of it is part of the bigger picture. We can’t just focus on one element, ignore the rest, and expect everything to be fine in the end. Mental health and healing doesn’t work that way.”

“Okay. If it increases the chance of seeing Amelia again.”

Robyn seems to consider her next words. “I can’t promise you that once we’ve dealt with those two issues, Grace and her husband will let you see Amelia. That might take time. And it might never happen because of their own concerns and worries when it comes to their daughter. That’s their job as her parents. To worry about her and protect her.”

I inwardly flinch at Robyn’s reference to Amelia being their daughter, even though that’s what she is. “I understand. I’m just not ready to give up yet on that possibility. I miss her so much it burns in my chest. I see other kids and can’t stop wondering what Amelia looks like. Can’t stop wondering what she’s doing at that moment. Can’t stop wondering what she loves to do and what she’s not a fan of.” I wring my hands in my lap.

“She was my reason to keep breathing on the days when I felt like giving up. Both during my marriage and while in prison.” Until the day I finally gave up my will to live after I was literally stabbed in the back.

“Do you still feel that way?”

I think on the question for a beat. “Sometimes. She’s not my reason for getting up each morning like she once was when I was married.” But she is my motivation for the renovations in the second bedroom in my house. My motivation for turning my life around. I’m not ready to admit that to Robyn, though.

“How do you see her when it comes to your life in general?”

“What do you mean?”

“Does she have an impact on any of your decisions?”

Darn it. It’s like Robyn can read my mind. “Not really.”

“Not really?”

I shrug, unwilling to articulate the truth.

Robyn doesn’t say anything. She watches me as if waiting for me to elaborate.

Which I don’t. My decisions about my life aren’t necessarily focused on what’s best for me, but they are what will bring me closer to seeing my daughter again. And seeing her again is what’s best for me. It means I can see for myself she’s happy and thriving.

“No, she doesn’t impact most of my decisions,” I say, deciding to give Robyn that much of the truth.

“That’s good.” She leans back in her chair. “You mentioned you felt powerless when Grace ended the call without telling you how much time she and her husband need before they’ll consider letting you into their daughter’s life. Tell me about that.”

---