But I was willing to try.

For him.

For us.

CHAPTER 11

When we returned home that evening, it was with held hands and tiny caresses. We were reconnecting. It seemed as if the pieces of our puzzle were locking into place. Each day, each session, was a struggle, but one we came out of a little bit stronger and closer.

After our talk with Dr. Morgenson, things improved between us. Nathan’s affections retuned and he was talking to me, and in doing so I began to talk to him. Deep conversations, the façades stripped away, leaving us exposed.

Dr. Morgenson was right; Nathan opening up caused me to open up naturally. It was painful, exposing the deepest parts of our fears and past heartaches, but at the end of the conversations we both agreed we felt a bit lighter, even though Nathan was feeling hostile toward my former family.

I told Nathan more about my father and Cheryl and how, all the way up until I was taken from their custody, I had hoped, a foolish hope, that somewhere inside his darkened soul, my father did love me. It’s the want of any child, to be loved by their parents. I always told myself he was my father, and there had to be some part of him that cared about me.

That went out the window on the day the ruling came down and he tried to smack me, screaming hateful words and causing the bailiff to intervene.

I clutched onto Joan’s suit as she formed a wall between my father and I, while the bailiffs attempted to restrain him.

“You ungrateful little bitch! This is how you repay me for being a burden? Look at what you’ve done! I never wanted you! I wish you’d never been born!”

“Mr. Palmer, you will get a hold of yourself!” the judge yelled, but my dad continued to come at me, nothing but anger and contempt in his features.

“You are nothing. You hear me? Nothing! You will always be nothing, just like she was. No one will ever want you!”

“I want you,” Nathan’s soothing voice called to me. “Come back to me, baby.”

I blinked and took a moment to shake off the memory that had taken over. It felt so real; I was trembling and a little cold.

That was the last time I’d seen either of them. They were out of my life, but I wondered if I would ever be rid of them emotionally. At times it didn’t seem they’d ever go away forever.

I took a deep breath; it helped to clear my head. When I looked up, Dr. Morgenson gave me an affectionate smile. “I must say, I’m very pleased at the progress you’re making. Over the last few weeks you’ve opened up, told us about your family. You’re learning how to express your traumatic past in a positive manner. This would indicate a real healing step in the right direction to your long-term emotional well-being.”

Nathan leaned down to place a kiss on my forehead. “Good job, Honeybear.”

Darren smiled at us and then continued on, “You may have more memories triggered similar to what you just experienced after you’ve been through a heavy session like today. However, after seeing the way Nathan handled it a few moments ago – I’m confident you’ll be fine if it happens outside my office, or make-shift office as the case may be. This is a huge hurdle you’ve both jumped over. You’re obviously in very good, capable hands.”

What did that mean? If things hadn’t gone well in his presence I’d be hospitalized again or put on more medication? I held my breath for a second and looked at Nathan beside me.

He stroked across my back and shoulders, his eyes soft.

“It’s made Nathan angry though,” I said. “The more I tell him, the more things he destroys. Soon there won’t be any walls left in his condo. I don’t want him to get hurt.”

“Because if I ever see any of them again, they will be checking into the f**king hospital.” Nathan fumed, his hands leaving me and forming into fists, clenching at his sides.

I reached for his hand to soothe him, but he pulled away, jumping up from his position on the couch. His agitation vibrated from his whole being; it was almost a palpable force in the room.

Even though his anger was intimidating and almost frightening with the speed in which he moved from sympathetic to livid, it made me love him all the more, because it was all for me. He was angry for me. I’d never had anyone that passionate about protecting and keeping me happy and safe. Even Teresa wasn’t that intense about it, and she actually met and saw how awful my father treated me.

“No, Lila! You never did anything wrong! You were a child! It was his responsibility to take care of you. I can’t f**king stand that they did all that to you. Especially that sack of shit you once called a brother.”

“I think what Lila is saying is you need an outlet for your anger,” Dr. Morgenson said. “It’s not wrong to be upset about what happened and have harsh feelings toward her family, but I have to agree with her. It would do you good, so it doesn’t stay pent up and you end up lashing out in harmful ways.”

“If he does, then all the drywall manufacturers would be out of business.” I smiled and let out a little chuckle.

When I looked up, Darren and Nathan were staring at me. Darren blinked and Nathan tilted his head, while I became self-aware and embarrassed. I was receiving that extra head look again.

Their strange looks melted into smiles and both were having trouble holding back their laughter.

It was a good laugh, and I found myself joining in.

To add to all the therapy, we now had special assignments. Nathan was enrolled in boxing and mixed martial arts to have a positive outlet for his anger and was to go twice a week. Darren said he needed to learn how to channel his explosiveness.

My assignment was to find a hobby. He suggested I try the local arts institute that held classes for adults. I needed a focus besides work and Nathan. It also forced me to be social and meet new people. Though I wouldn’t be able to start for a couple weeks due to my limited mobility, I went online and signed up for the next round of painting.

I didn’t know if I’d be any good at it, but at that point I needed something else to focus on. Not to mention it was a positive way for me to become more…normal.

A week later we were lying in bed, and watching some crap movie Nathan had put on. Even he was complaining. He kept repeating “movie bad” over and over.

This was out new ritual since I was still pretty much bed bound. I was getting a lot better, my lungs were healed up, and my bruises had faded away. We would eat dinner, something his mom or Teresa left, so all Nathan needed to do was heat it up, and then retire to the bedroom. After dinner we would surf the On Demand from my cage…I mean bedroom…and pick out a movie or two.