Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116708 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 467(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
“Oh, goodie. Does that earn me a gold star? Free personal pan pizza? Another fistful of pills to pop at bedtime?”
“Do you think you need more meds?” His calm voice grated on my exposed nerves.
“For the love of God, stop asking me questions.”
“Okay,” he replied.
In his silence, my mind went back to Gwen sitting outside. How the hell that woman could still muster a smile when she saw me, I couldn’t understand. I couldn’t even look in the mirror without wanting to break it.
Shaking my head, my filter slipped and I blurted, “Gwen shouldn’t have to deal with this. I’ve put her through enough.”
Allen leaned back in his chair, eying me closely. “You want to reframe that?”
“Not in the least,” I grumbled.
He dipped his chin, his black frame glasses sliding down his nose. “Okay, let me give it a try, then. Gwen was eager to come here today because she’s heard about your incredible progress and is excited that you are so open and willing to work on yourself.”
Open and willing was the stretch of a lifetime. I’d only recently gotten out of a sixty-day stint at a rehabilitation facility after I’d spent months locked in a house, dodging doctors and therapists almost as often as friends and family. If I couldn’t prove I could become a functioning member of society again, I was at risk of losing everything.
Allen called it exposure therapy. I called it medically sanctioned torture. But if I wanted Gwen to trust me again, I needed to learn to trust myself.
Allen had been taking me out on “adventures” for over a month.
At first, it had been simple things like walking into a coffee shop and ordering a drink to go.
The next time we’d go out, we’d sit and stay for a few minutes.
Baby steps, he called it.
Eventually, we’d worked up to hour-long walks in the park, grocery shopping, and once, much to my absolute horror, Putt-Putt Golf.
But on that particular day, after much debate and Allen’s constant reassurances, we’d decided it was time for my ultimate test—a mall food court in Watersedge, New Jersey, ten minutes from Gwen’s new apartment.
“Daddy!” Kaitlyn yelled, racing over to me with a drink in her hand.
Daniel balanced a tray of food a few feet behind her.
“I got Sprite!” Kaitlyn skidded to a stop in front of me. “You want a sip?”
I smiled genuinely, as only she could draw from me. God, she looked so much like her mother it both filled my heart and emptied my soul.
I could still remember like it was yesterday, when Gwen had come to me crying, holding a positive pregnancy test. We were still in high school, irresponsible and wildly in love, but one look at that flickering heartbeat on the ultrasound and I discovered the reason for my existence. Her parents were livid, but I put a ring on her finger the very next day. While Gwen worked her ass off to finish high school early, I joined the Army, hell-bent to be the husband and father my dad had never been.
In the last six months, I’d failed Gwen in every possible way, but I was working to get my life together for Kaitlyn.
“Nah, I don’t need a sip. That’s all yours.” I glanced up at Daniel and quirked an eyebrow. “Gwen’s gonna kick your ass for giving her soda.”
He shrugged. “I’ll take my chances. It’s a special day.”
It was a special day. It was the first time I’d been out of the house with Kaitlyn in months. And in true father-of-the-year fashion, I’d had to bring a shrink to babysit me and my younger brother to babysit Kaitlyn in order to do it.
Sipping on her drink, Kaitlyn walked around the table and climbed into the chair beside me, while Daniel sat next to Allen.
Passing Kaitlyn a box of cheese fries, I leaned in close, her long brown hair tickling my nose. “Did you get an application for head chicken nugget maker while you were over there?”
She let out a giggle that momentarily soothed the searing pain in my chest. “No. I want to be a vet now so I can take care of all the cute puppies and kittens.”
“Oh, so you turned six and suddenly head chicken nugget maker isn’t good enough for you anymore?” I poked her in the side, and she squirmed away from me, laughing.
“Mom said it’s better to help the animals instead of eat them.”
I nodded. “So that means no more bacon?”
Her brown doe eyes flashed wide. “Bacon isn’t an animal!”
I screwed my lips shut. “Right. Of course not. Silly Daddy.”
She picked up a fry and popped it into her mouth, chewing as she spoke. “Why don’t we get bacon anymore?”
The same reason we didn’t live under the same roof anymore?
And why we didn’t go play at the playground anymore?