Chapter 115

MADDISON

Dinner’s ready, but I’m not in the grand dining room with the rest of the crowd. Instead, Violet and I are perched at the kitchen counter, our meals served, while she gazes at me with wide, surprised eyes. She’s sizing me up, as if I might bolt at any moment.

And maybe I will…

She brought me here because my episode took a turn for the worse, the panic attack swallowing me whole as I grappled with the fear of never being enough for Asher. He’s concerned, naturally, only attending dinner because his mother insisted.

He doesn’t even understand why I’m like this, but how can I confess that I’ve glimpsed the bleak reality of a future we probably won’t share?

I toy with the food in front of me, pushing it around the plate instead of eating even a single bite. How can I eat when I feel like absolute crap?

Everyone grows up, finds a partner to share their life with, and eventually, they buy homes, get married, and have kids. I’m not against the first, maybe not even the second, but kids would complicate things.

Firstly, can I even get pregnant? Secondly, if I can, can I carry a healthy baby that won’t end up like the last one?

Thirdly, is there any chance I could be a good enough mother for a child who needs guidance and love, not trauma passed down due to emotional immaturity, among other things? I’m messed up; I think that’s clear to everyone.

I know it.

So pretending to wait and see would only hurt Asher. My thoughts keep circling back to the realization that maybe I’m not right for Asher; perhaps I’m not deserving of him.

And I should be mature enough to accept that and tell him that we might not work out. But every time I try to find the words, the way to let him down gently, my heart shatters into a million pieces.

I can’t bear the thought of losing him, of facing a future without him. Not after everything we’ve been through, not after I let myself feel for him.

I owe Asher and his family my life. Without them, I’d still be trapped under Sanctum.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Violet asks.

I lift my eyes from the plate in front of me, meeting her gaze as she studies me with concern. She agreed to sit here, correctly guessing that I wouldn’t handle being with everyone else.

I don’t respond; I don’t want to admit that there’s anything to discuss.

I should. Carmen said talking is the best therapy, but I’m still wrestling with her mantra and suggestion.

“It’s tough to adjust when you’ve been sheltered in relative safety. The treatment center lacks everyday triggers…gives you a false sense of hope that life might be as easy as it is in there. I’ve told Carmen this, but she still believes that the respite of in-patient care helps us develop coping mechanisms, even if they are immature and need maturing once we’ve left the facility.”

I take in Violet’s words, finding them entirely relatable. She’s right, of course, and that’s exactly how I feel now.

I’ve been away for three months, in a place designed to help me deal with whatever my mind throws at me. There are people, nurses, doctors, and medication to ease the sadness and replace it with a peaceful quiet.

But now that I’m out here, with everyone around me—it’s deafening. My mind is the loudest.

“I struggled too—many times. But especially the first time after I found my husbands. It was all a blur of trying to survive back then, but my husbands allowed me to be human, to be me—”

“I had a panic attack over Asher’s future.”

Violet halts mid-sentence and looks at me, then frowns.

“Is he using again?” she asks, sounding unhappy.

“No, no, I haven’t seen him take anything,” I reply, a bit taken aback that she would immediately jump to that conclusion.

But then again, he is a recovering addict, and perhaps she has less faith in him than he deserves.

“I saw a future where he could be playing with our children—holding them on his shoulder as he was his sisters. And then I remembered the operation and the doctor’s warning of how it might be difficult, if not medically impossible, to carry a normal pregnancy. And then I thought about me, and how I shouldn’t be a mother… Everything overwhelmed me and made me panic,” I explain.

Tears start to fall, unbidden, as the pain of a future I might never have courses through me. A wave of sadness engulfs my heart, causing a deep, throbbing ache.

I never thought I’d be able to voice my fears, but now that I have, the pain is even more intense.

“Having children is still a possibility for you. Losing a tube isn’t as devastating as it used to be,” Violet says, reaching out to hold my hand in a comforting gesture.

I can’t help but wonder what it would be like to have a mother like her, so caring and attentive, unlike my own.

“The doctors warned me about the risks. They mentioned scar tissue and the possibility of another ectopic pregnancy.” I dismiss her reassurances with a wave of my hand.

“Yes, there are risks, but with the right medical team and timing, there’s no reason why you can’t try for children,” she says, her gaze drifting down the hallway as she gets lost in her thoughts.

I can’t help but admire her beauty, especially when she smiles like that.

“Asher would be an amazing father. Your children would be lucky to have you two as parents…”

“I have nothing to offer a child. All I have is trauma, pain, and emotional immaturity. Carmen made sure to point that out and make a spectacle of my lack of maturity,” I snap, my anger flaring up unexpectedly.

How can she possibly think I could be a good mother?

“When I had Ella… I was in the middle of a mental health crisis that I didn’t seek help for until two years later. But I was a good mother, Maddy. I always put them first. That’s what being a mother is all about. You are deserving of that future, I promise you. And when you and Asher decide to have children, we’ll be there to support you in any way you need.”

“That’s a long way off, Mama,” Asher interjects, his voice soothing me like a cool balm on a sunburn.

I tear my gaze away from his mother and look at him, then leave my untouched dinner to walk over to him.

He opens his arms, inviting me in.

I melt into his embrace, drawing strength from him.

Maybe I should have done this before dinner—it instantly makes me feel better.