Teddy: Does it?
Seth: I don’t know. It just occurred to me since there’s a lake.
Teddy: Oregon is closer to home.
Seth: I can feel your struggle. What can I do for you?
Teddy: Come with me?
Seth: I wish I could.
Teddy: What if I stay on the couch waiting for you?
Seth: Though it’s a good idea, maybe once I finish this mission, we can find a couch together that we’ll never leave.
Teddy: But what if I no longer want to stay on the couch?
Seth: Then we’ll go wherever you want.
Teddy: What if I don’t go and my brothers kick me out?
Seth: Tell Grace to give you the codes to access my penthouse. It should be clean and hopefully furnished.
Teddy: Just like that? You’re not going to make me go to rehab?
Seth: If there’s something I’ve learned, it’s that you have to want to get help. If you don’t, then it won’t work. You have to do it for yourself.
Teddy: This is very contradictory.
Seth: How?
Teddy: Scroll and read your messages. The Organization made you go to therapy.
Seth: It’s always optional. If I wanted to continue working for them it was up to me.
Seth: You can just go to my place and ask Lang to buy you a couch that’s just like the one your brothers have. Or give the treatment center a try.
Teddy: I don’t want to be isolated from my family.
Seth: You won’t. You’ll have access to phones, computers, and they can visit you whenever.
Teddy: Will you visit me?
Seth: I’ll send you a computer so we can email often or videoconference.
Teddy: I’ll think about it.
Seth: Whatever you do, know I support you.
Teddy: That means a lot.
Seth: Text me when you decide where you’re going.
Teddy: I never said I was.
Seth: Love you, Theodora.
Chapter Nine
Teddy
After three exhausting days, I make a decision.
I’ll do it. I’m going to get treatment.
I choose to go to Oregon.
It wasn’t peer pressure or Seth’s texts offering me his support. Spending seventy-two hours reading about women who suffered like me gave me the strength to make the decision to get help.
I only took a few breaks to do the basics and didn’t sleep. It started with Thea’s biography, and I continued with a few more. Every woman or man who has been through a similar situation and walked a different path of grief, discovery, and healing.
I haven’t grieved. I’m still in a state of denial and, to no one’s surprise, depressed.
My pajamas, the couch, and the big fuzzy blanket are temporary. I don’t know if this will help or if I might end up going to all seven different centers to find myself, but I want to try.
The Teddy of a month ago didn’t die, she changed. I need to figure out how much and how to help her become functional. After all, that’s what I do. I find solutions, fix problems, and make things happen.
Staying at my brother’s for any longer is only going to let the demons grow bigger and stronger. It’ll be impossible to defeat them if I allow them to dig a foundation in my heart. My five brothers and Lang don’t wait to make the arrangements. They only give me two days to get ready for the trip.
They’re probably afraid I’ll change my mind.
Mom helps me shop for clothes and pack them. It’s the first time we don’t fight about my weight, taste, or her hovering. I don’t know if it’s because I’m too broken and she gave up on me or… It’s better not to think about the reasons for her behavior.
I won’t do it until I’m in a better place.
The day before King and Myles drive me to the center, Dad visits me. It’s unexpected to say the least. Up until now I assumed he wouldn’t want anything to do with me after what happened.
Unless he’s here to disown me. I don’t make a fuss when he enters the living area. Thankfully I’m not in pajamas, my hair is combed, and I showered earlier today. I sit in the dining room signing some documents for Lang, who’s going to be helping Aaron with TPSJ Life Concierge. It seems I still have enough clients to continue it.
“Teddy,” he says, looking at me
“Hey, Dad.” I try to sound as casual as possible.
My father and I haven’t been on great terms since I quit his company and started my own company. In a way, I was his only hope. No one plans on taking over after he retires—or dies. He should try Fletcher. One day he’ll hang up the cleats.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come visit you before.”
Teddy would have a snide response like, “Not surprised, or were you fucking the new twinky?”
Me? I don’t have a comeback.
“Your brothers didn’t want me to upset you,” he continues, just as I keep reading and signing the pile of papers that have to go to Lang tonight.
“I was at the hospital until they took you home.”
That doesn’t sound right. Why didn’t they tell me?
I finally lift my gaze to pay attention to him. “You were?”
“Of course I was. Why would you think I wouldn’t run to see if you’re okay or stay in the hospital with you?”
I tap my lips with the pen I hold, and lift my head from the documents I’m signing to look at him.
“My love for you is unconditional.”
“You have a strange way of showing it.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I’m not here to defend myself or my character, just to check on you. I heard you’re going to a center.”
I can’t stop myself and ask, “Why did you abandon Mom when she was raped?”
He takes a step back and flinches. It was a great right hook to his ego—or maybe his heart.
“Should I expect you to do the same with me?” I pull up my sleeve showing him the scars forming on my arms. The greenish bruises that remain. I touch the base of my skull with the big red, angry welt. “These might never go away. Can you handle knowing what happened to me?”
He closes his eyes briefly, walks closer, and squats. Dad gently takes the pen away from me and holds my good hand, staring at me the same way he’s done since I was a child. There are tears in his eyes.
This is the first time I’ve seen this six-foot-three man, who drips power, cry.
“It hurts to see them. They don’t change who you are or my love for you. I wish I could take the pain and everything that happened to you, away.” His voice is soft and softens more when a few tears roll from the corner of his eyes. “You’re one of the most precious treasures I have. My company, the properties, all those assets I’ve accumulated throughout the years don’t matter as much as you do.”
“But you couldn’t love Mom after—”
He shakes his head. “I adore your mother. I wasn’t man enough to deal with the consequences of what happened that day. I blamed myself for not protecting her, for trusting a friend with my precious wife. I…” He releases a shaky breath. “I was a coward.”
“You should try a therapist,” I try to joke because it’s heartbreaking to see this man crumbling.
“I’ve heard that a few times.” He rises up, pulling me with him.