“I almost didn’t come,” I admit quietly, my voice rough from lack of sleep.
She offers me a small smile. “But you did.”
I nod slowly, still fidgeting with my sleeve.
“Tell me why,” she says gently.
I inhale deeply, pressing my lips together before I force the words out. “Because I’m tired of living in a constant state of fear that everyone and everything I care about will be taken away or leave me.”
Saying it out loud hurts, as if I’m yanking the bandage off an open wound and exposing everything underneath.
Dr. Martha leans forward slightly, her expression unreadable but still warm. “And why are you are coming to that realization, Madison?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, like I can keep myself from breaking, but I already know the answer.
Him.
Jaxon Montgomery.
The boy who never stopped showing up, even when I shoved him away. My best friend. The boy who loved me, even when I didn’t know how to love myself.
The boy I hurt.
I blink rapidly, staring down at my lap. “I left him,” I whisper. “I ran, just like I always do.”
Dr. Martha is quiet for a beat, then, “Why?”
I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. “Because it’s what I do. It’s what I’ve always done. I push people away before they can hurt me.”
“Before they can leave you.”
I flinch, my stomach twisting painfully.
Dr. Martha exhales, her tone softer now. “You’ve been surviving for so long, Madison. You’ve always been looking for theexit, always keeping yourself one step ahead of the heartbreak. But tell me…has that ever worked and protected you?”
I stare at her, my throat tight.
Because the answer is no.
It hasn’t.
It didn’t keep me from losing my mother.
It didn’t stop my father from hurting me.
And it sure as hell didn’t keep me from falling in love with Jaxon Montgomery.
I drop my head into my hands, exhaling shakily. “I don’t know how to stop.”
Dr. Martha doesn’t flinch at my broken confession. She simply nods, like she expected this. “That’s why you’re here.”
I clench my jaw, rubbing at my temples.
“Tell me what you’re afraid of,” she prompts, her voice unwavering.
My chest tightens. I open my mouth, then close it. I know the answer, but admitting it feels impossible. Still, when she doesn’t push, when she just lets me sit in silence, something in me finally cracks.
“I’m afraid…” I pause, my pulse hammering. “I’m afraid if I let him love me, if I let myself have this, something will take him away from me, just like everything else.”
