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“Yeah.” I close my fist around the ball again. “Took a while to get there but I like the friendship we’re building.”

If I could accidentally fall in love with my kidnapper, I could build a relationship with the woman who birthed me. I don’t know if I’ll ever call her mom, but for now, having her in my life at all is a gift. “She understands my boundaries and never tries to push me past what I’m comfortable with. It’s…nice.”

Dr. Grace’s face blooms in a smile. “Delilah, that’s greatto hear. You’ve come so far since you showed up in my waiting room a year ago.”

She’s right.

A year ago, my entire identity was survival. Even after admitting I fell in love with Adonis and accepting that I wanted a life with him. Every time something triggered me, I went into survival mode. Adonis was patient, he always is, but it took a toll on me. Knowing that even with my father dead and my brother shut out of my life, I still had to deal with the aftermath of those twenty-five years, not just pretend they didn’t happen.

I was desperate the first time I sat on this couch. I wanted to feel normal. Or as close to normal as I could feel after everything.

If that was ever going to happen, I had to learn who I was. Without the built-in armor and without feeling like I needed to escape from my own mind.

After six months of intense talk therapy and coming to her twice a week, Dr. Grace introduced me to EMDR therapy.

A few sessions in and I was working through memories I thought would be locked forever.

Contrary to what I believed, there was no distinct moment when all my stolen memories came back to me. Dr. Grace made sure I knew that may never happen. What I got instead was a slow untangling of my present emotions and how they connected to what happened in my past.

“Last month, when we talked, you said you were exploring different hobbies to see if anything gripped you. How’s that going?”

“Good,” I say, grinning.

“You just lit up,” she replies, intrigue entering her eyes. “Tell me more about that.”

“I’ve been sticking to my spin classes at the gym. And Indigo found an animal shelter for us to volunteer at.” My smile broadens. “We go on Tuesdays and Thursdays.”

“And what’s it like to experience these things just for fun?”

“Eye-opening.”

“Hmm.” She jots down a note. “And why is that?”

“Because for so long, I thought because I wasn’t in the pursuit of a job or career that I was aimless and wouldn’t get a chance to do things I enjoyed without expectations.” I speak around the lump in my throat. “I thought I would aways be trying to cover lost ground and prove I’m somebody worth respecting. But I don’t have to. I can just be.”

“That’s big, Delilah. I love the way you phrased that.” Her pen flies across the notepad. “How has it been managing your symptoms since you started a new AED?”

I bite down on my lip. “Mostly, I was anxious about the adjustment period. I didn’t want to trigger a breakthrough seizure or prove that I have grand mal seizures now and just didn’t know it.”

My voice is calm now, but I spent two weeks not being able to think about anything but that after my neurologist told me he was switching my prescription to try and reduce the long-term side effects.

“And how was that transition?”

“So far, so good.”

We talk a few more minutes before she clasps her hands in her lap. “We have about fifteen minutes left, would you like to do some EMDR to wrap up?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s use the headphones today.”

Titus isthe first thing my eyes land on when I step on the plane. He waits patiently for me to reach the leather seat beside him and melts into me when I hug him. “Hey, old man.”

Behind us, Adonis greets the flight attendant.

The only thing he told me when he picked me up from therapy with bags in the backseat was that he was taking me on a trip. The first time he did that, we ended up in first class on a commercial flight headed to Switzerland. The time after, he flew us private to Chicago because I said I wanted to visit the Art Institute. Mexico and Iceland got checked off my bucket list in similar fashion. Any off-handed comment I make turns into a trip, a gift, an experience. One thing I’ve learned about Adonis is that his love language is spoiling me.

He sits down in the seat facing me, his shades resting precariously on the bridge of his nose. A moment later, Titus hops down from his chair to place his head in his owner’s lap.