Dear Hubby, Bro & BFF. You All Watched Me Break? Now Watch Me Leave Chapter 02
When Colin finished that vow, Derek, seated in the front row, smiled for once.
He gave Colin two firm pats on the shoulder.
“I know I can trust you with Natalie.”
Now I lay in our dark bedroom, listening to Colin breathe inches away as if I were trapped in a room whose door would never open.
He had installed the lock himself.
On Monday morning, I booked an appointment with the Anxiety Disorders Clinic at Westbridge Behavioral Health Center.
I was sitting at the table eating breakfast when the appointment confirmation appeared on my phone.
Colin came out of the kitchen carrying his coffee and glanced at my screen.
“Which doctor did you book?”
He took a sip, his voice casual.
“Paige says Dr. Lee at that center is a big believer in exposure therapy. You should see Dr. Lee.”
“I can’t go with you today. Something came up at work, but I’ll pick you up later.”
I didn’t answer. I simply slipped my phone into my pocket.
The psychiatrist I saw was a gray-haired woman with thin-framed glasses. After reviewing my assessment form, she set down her pen.
“Have you been forced into enclosed spaces several times recently?”
“Your anxiety score has doubled over the past three months, and you’re already showing early signs of panic attacks.”
I gripped my knees, my palms damp with sweat.
“No more forced exposure of any kind. This isn’t desensitizing you. It’s piling trauma on top of trauma.”
“If this continues, it could leave you with lasting trauma or even PTSD.”
She picked up a red pen and underlined a warning on my assessment form.
My throat tightened so badly that I couldn’t speak.
As I stepped outside the center, my phone rang. It was Derek.
“Colin said you had a follow-up today. What did the doctor say?”
I hesitated.
“She said I can’t be forced through any more exposure exercises. My condition is getting worse…”
“Enough,” he cut in, sounding impatient.
“You’re too sensitive. Paige is studying psychology, so she knows more about this than you do. Would it kill you to cooperate with the treatment for once? Stop making everything harder for Colin.”
I stood on the steps outside the center with my phone pressed to my ear. Sunlight fell across my body, but it did nothing to warm me.
I thought back to something that had happened when we were children.
I had once been locked inside the school equipment room. Derek had climbed through a window and carried me out.
He had been drenched in sweat, and broken glass had sliced open his hand. His blood dripped onto my white school uniform.
“I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
He had been fourteen.
After hanging up, I texted Colin. Three minutes later, his reply arrived.
[Okay, got it. I won’t make it in time to pick you up, so you’ll have to get home by yourself. By the way, Paige is coming over to cook dinner. She feels bad about scaring you last time and wants to make it up to you.]
When I got home, Paige came out of the kitchen wearing an apron.
It was my floral apron.
“Natalie! I made beef and tomato stew!”
She waved a wooden spoon at me with a smile, and the silver bracelet around her wrist caught the light.
Colin had brought it home from a business trip the month before. He had given me a gold one and casually handed the silver one to Paige.
I hadn’t thought much of it at the time. Now, as I watched the bracelet slide around her wrist, my stomach twisted.
At dinner, I tried to bring up the appointment.
“The doctor said my anxiety score had doubled. She said I absolutely couldn’t be forced through any more exposure…”
“Natalie.” Paige set down her fork and cut me off.
“That doctor’s too conservative. My supervisor always says you can’t base treatment entirely on how a patient feels. If discomfort were enough to stop a session, exposure therapy would never work.”
Her voice was confident, almost pitying, as if I were a child who didn’t know what was best for me.
Colin paused with his fork halfway to his mouth, then nodded.
“Paige has a point.”
With those four words, Colin dismissed my doctor’s diagnosis.
I lowered my head and continued eating. The beef and tomato stew tasted good, but I couldn’t taste a thing.
On Sunday, as Colin was getting ready to leave, he turned to me.
“Natalie, can you reschedule your appointment this afternoon?”
It was my therapy follow-up, and I had waited two weeks for the appointment.
“Paige’s car is in the shop, and she needs to get to her internship site outside the city. She doesn’t have anyone else to drive her, and you can’t drive on the highway. I’ll take her and come straight back.”
“What about my appointment?”
“Just reschedule it for next week. You’re only going to talk and get another prescription anyway.”
He was already pulling on his coat.
“Her internship site is up in the mountains, and there’s no public transportation. How else is she supposed to get there by herself?”
He picked up his car keys.
“I’ll be back by three at the latest.”
I sat alone in the empty living room and opened the scheduling system on my phone, hoping to move the appointment to the following week.
The doctor was fully booked the following week.
The next available appointment was three weeks away.
I set my phone down.
Sunlight streamed through the windows, but I sat motionless on the couch, feeling cold.
I remembered the day I was first diagnosed with claustrophobia. I had burst into tears the moment I left the doctor’s office.
Colin had crouched in the hallway, looking up at me as he wiped my tears away with his thumb.
“It’s okay. I looked it up, and you can get better. I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”