Filed To Story: Dumped by Scumbag Adored by Billionaire
Isabella’s POV
“How do you feel today?” My annoying therapist began again. Since the past week, she has been trying to get me to open my mouth but I kept mum.
“I feel like I don’t need you in my life,” was my reply to her current question. She was lucky I got a reason to talk today.
Instead of my therapist frowning her face like the others do when I talk to them that way, she smiled at me instead.
After I was discharged from the hospital, Niles, my father would send me here and have me listen to this woman ramble about death, grieving, and blah blah.
Honestly? If this was her method of getting me to talk, It sulked terribly; she bored me to death. I just didn’t want to talk to anybody at that time, why don’t they all get it?
“You’re a fierce one, which is an improvement,” she said, jotting down God knows what into her notebook.
Gosh, I hated this. It made me feel like a lab rat being experimented on. Each word I spoke was written down and her hawk-like eyes scrutinized my every reaction.
Why do people call this therapy? It sounded like surveillance instead.
“Why didn’t you say a word to me last week?” This blonde therapist of mine inquired once again. She was always the one asking the questions but trust me, roles are about to be reversed.
“I didn’t want to speak to you, is that a problem?” I wrapped my arms against my chest and sat comfortably. Things were about to get interesting.
“No, is not a problem,” she answered patiently- I wondered how long that would last ” But it would be interesting to know,”
“Is there a rule that states that I must talk to you during a supposed therapy session?” I asked.
I continued, “Do you know that the average woman speaks twenty thousand words a day while the average man speaks seven thousand words a day. Instead of wasting my saliva like that, I’ll rather use it for something productive,” I summarized.
“No, it is not compulsory, Isabella, and talking to you is a productive job. But then, you could remain silent as you did throughout last week, if that’s what you want – nobody would force you nor would I judge you,”
She added with a gentle tone, “But the reason I want you Isabella to talk to me is so I could figure out your problem and help solve it?”
“Really?” My eyes brightened with an idea
“Yes, Isabella”
“Alright then, I have one question for you,” I requested.
“Of course, go ahead” Silvia gestured to me to go ahead – yeah, that’s her name.
“A-hem” I cleared my throat, adjusting my butt on the sofa, “Silvia,” I called.
“Yes, Isabella?”
“You solve problems, right?”
“Yes, I help solve problems,” she clarified.
“Fine, who solves your problems?”
“Huh?” I saw the confusion on her face.
“I mean, who helps solve your problem?”
Silvia laughed awkwardly, “Why are you interested in that?” She didn’t even realize she’s now the one being questioned. Who’s the therapist now?
“Since you solve mine, I’m just curious as to who solves yours, or am I not permitted to ask that? Is that not the point of this session? Getting to know each other?”
“Of course, it’s part of our therapy,” she was quick to answer,” You see when I have problems, there’s my husband to help reason it out with – “
“Let’s say you didn’t have a husband – I’m not wishing you bad luck in your marriage by the way; though most marriages no longer last – who would you have turned to?”
Silvia was dumbfounded by my statement yet answered anyway “Parents? Siblings?” She shrugged.
“And if none of them are available?” I pressed.
“I could always call them on my cell phone and seek their opinion,” she was becoming flustered this time.
“No, like if they’re dead?” I said wryly
She gave me an odd look
“I’m not trying to say they’re gonna die,” I corrected, “But what if such a situation arises? Who would help solve your problem?” My question continued nevertheless.
“There’s my mentors, friends, elderly ones…” Her face scrunched up, “And why are you even curious about that…wait a minute, aren’t I the one supposed to be doing the questioning?” She asked no one in particular.
She finally realized.
“Oh, seems to be true,” I gasped dramatically, this was turning out to be fun.
Silvia narrowed her eyes at me,
“Isabella, you purposely distracted me, didn’t you?”
“Did I?” I blinked innocently.
“You sly one,” She took a deep breath, “Fine, it’s my turn to question you now, Isabella”
“Fine, bring on,” I threw my head back against the sofa, I knew what she was going to ask already.
“Why did you slit your wrist Isabella?”
There, as expected.
“I wanted to know where Maria went,” was my answer.
“Excuse me?”
I turned my head towards her,
“You heard me right,”
“You do know that if suicide is explained this beautifully, everyone would have attempted it already,” Silvia pointed out.
“Is that a bad thing?” I couldn’t help but ask, “Isn’t that an easy way to die?”
“You’re quite young, Isabella. Why would you want to die?” She inquired.
“Because I’m a jinx? Women who end up being or desire to be my mother end up dying,” I answered her, refusing to let the tears flow.
“I’m not a baby, I ain’t going to cry” I chanted in my head.
“Isabella, you’re not a jinx, no one born under this earth is a curse -save Cain from the Bible.” She attempted a dry joke
Yeah, try again later.
She went on,” Perhaps to people committing suicide, it’s easy- after the pain comes the peaceful death, they believe – but the people they hurt most are the loved ones left behind. They are the ones who have to deal with the pain of their death; they’re the ones whose hearts are broken.
“Take for instance: Isabella, you’re in pain because Maria died. What about your father? What would your father have done if he had lost both Maria and you?”
That question stabbed at my heart, it never crossed my mind.
“I didn’t think about that,” I blurted.
“You might not see or understand its value but your life is precious to a lot of people, especially your father,”
Have I hurt my father? I couldn’t help but think.
“Tell you something, when you leave this office, Isabella, remember to give your father a warm long hug; there are so many wonders it can do,” she boomed a smile at me expectantly.
God, I wasn’t ready for this.
“Are you going to do that, Isabella? Even if for nothing else, for my sake?” She pleaded with a pout,” Pretty please?”
“Fine, whatever,”
I hate cute faces
Niles’s POV
I was right in bringing Neon over to my place, Isabella’s mood changed for the better instantly. She was as delighted as a child who found a profound love for a new toy. It was as if the baby gave her the reason to live once again.
But unknown to her, seeing Neon was a big stab to my heart. His appearance kept on reminding me of what I had lost and would never regain for eternity.
Each time I saw him, all I saw was my own child who would have reached that same level of growth if he had been given a chance at life and his mother I had failed to protect.
It wasn’t easy to live with the raw memories, however, it got easier day by day. Now, I could breathe a bit seeing that smile on my daughter’s face.
For reasons known to her, Isabella wasn’t that open to Jennifer which she noticed, still didn’t complain nor harp on it – thankfully, the woman knew her place.
I might be Neon’s Godfather and sympathetic about her husband’s death but I won’t have anyone come into my house and oppress my daughter, she understood her limit – clearly.
It was good to know that Isabella didn’t make Jennifer’s stay that uncomfortable neither did she play a cruel prank on her – she just maintained her distance from the woman, making small talks when necessary- which made me conclude, my daughter was afraid of giving out her heart.
Well, I was not going to force Isabella into liking her, Jennifer would just have to give her space and time.
However, the same wasn’t said for Neon, Isabella had stolen the role of a mother from Jennifer; morning, afternoon, night, Neon was always in her arms.
In just a few days, Isabella dedicated her entire time to the boy – which was quite frightening if I might add – She was always seen cradling Neon in her arms – doesn’t her arms ache at all?
Isabella was always singing lullabies, feeding and making funny faces at him, and changing his diapers – something I haven’t done since I took him in.
In conclusion, Neon was her new obsession. The only thing Isabella hadn’t tried on is breastfeeding him – which I’m afraid she might have done if she had one. Who knows what’s going on in that mind of hers?
Currently, I’m outside her therapist’s office waiting for her session to be over. But there was something different about today, this would be the last therapy Isabella would be receiving, not because she’s cured or something, but because we’re moving out of here.
Yeah, this was the final step of recovering from the grieving process – leaving the memories behind. Correction, I wasn’t forgetting about Maria, rather I was moving on.
But I can’t forge ahead when everything in my place reminded me of her. I can’t keep dwelling on the past and I’m sure Maria understands that wherever she is.
So we’re leaving, my daughter and I, with the new addition to the family. Sure, we would be back but that would be after the wounds in our hearts are all healed.
My attention was drawn when the door to the office was opened and Isabella came out only to surprise me with a hug.
My body stiffened, I wasn’t expecting that. This girl would give me a heart attack with her surprises one day.