I slide my back down against the smooth pale blue wall next to the entrance to the waiting room. I turn my head towards the glass door down the entrance hall, leading to cherry blossoms standing on either side of the doorway. I take in deep breaths to calm myself down.
Speaking has never felt so useless. They talk about my feelings but dismiss everything else. IfeelI gave consent. Ifeelthat our love was real. It's never 'Igaveconsent' or ' our lovewasreal.'
They believe I must've been manipulated to feel this way and refuse to think otherwise.
"Amorette?" I hear the therapist from the waiting room. "Is your son alright?"
"I think he's just a little heartbroken," she murmurs. "I'm sure it's nothing to do with you. This has all been stressful."
"Yes, it seems he may have some type of psychosis resulting from the abuse. Perhaps having such an attachment caused something akin to Soulmate Depression. Of course, we need a full session before I can make a diagnosis, but once we get that far, I can prescribe him some medications."
I squeeze my eyes shut and grind my teeth. Fuck this.
"Dove!" Mother calls. I can hear her soft steps behind me. "Dove, can you please finish this therapy session?"
I refuse to look her way and bite my lip.
"Dove… please, come inside. You're breaking my heart."
I hear sniffles behind me and sink into my shoulders.
"Dove… I love you… I hate seeing you so heartbroken. It's been over a week. I notice, whenever you let me in your room, you only take a bite of food before you throw away the rest of your meal. You can't even eat a whole slice of bread."
I stay quiet. Nothing will help.
“You barely talk anymore. You stumble around and your eyes are puffy like you haven't slept for years. I've even noticed you're wearing the same clothes since she left. This… this isn't you. You’re not even doing the bare minimum to take care of yourself.”
“It doesn't matter to me.” Why should it?
She sits besides me. "We've been through so much. I mean you were born under circumstances where no one would know if you would live or die."
I look over my shoulder to her, my heart dropping at the mention of my birth.
Tears shine in her eyes. "And after you had survived, all I wanted was for you to live happily. Just to live carefree."
"Mother…"
"I'm not taking you to therapy because I hate you. I want you to heal from this. I'll go however far I can to help you. Group therapy, a mental care hospital, medication, even if we have to travel to another kingdom, literally anything…" she whimpers. "Just please… I want my dove back again."
I turn my body towards her, hope pulsing through me once more. I know she means what she's saying. I can see it. I can hear it.
I hold her hands together and lift them so they are right in between us. “I just need you to listen, Mother.”
Mother's eyes widen, but she curtly nods. “I'm listening, dove.”
I try to hold it together as tears sting my eyes. Hope conflicts with dread that my senses are wrong. "Mother… Ignatia is innocent…"
She nods. "I know-"
"Dreamscreechers are innocent. Everything me and Ignatia had was real." I try to say it as firmly as I can despite my throat trembling. "We touched the amare flower. It glowed like it would with soulmates. Maybe even brighter. She saved my life multiple times. She loved me…"
She frowns but stays silent. She bites her lip thoughtfully with a slow nod. I don't know what's really going on in her brain but it feels like a sliver of our connection has been rebuilt. Maybe she'll at least consider what I'm saying.
“Grandmother is wrong…” I whisper.
Finally she sighs. "We will discuss it with Grandmother as soon as she comes back.”
"We can talk about it right now."
