Crowned In Blood

Chapter 19

19

Catalina

I stared at the office building where my new therapist worked, fear running through my veins.

I never thought I'd be here.

I'd gone through so much in my life, so much that I didn't know how to speak of or approach, so I'd just buried it as much as I could. But I couldn't do that anymore.

I wanted my relationship with Marco to last for as long as it could. I'd become accustomed to waking up with him in my bed, cooking beside him, eating and working together in my house. The smell and feel of him, listening to him breathe as I rested my head on his chest. He was my safe place, my home, and I never wanted to hurt him ever again.

Facing my fears was a small price to pay if it meant I could ensure his happiness.

But deep inside of me, there was another reason I'd agreed to come here, a hope I'd drowned out that came roaring back to life.

I didn’t want to feel broken anymore.

There were so many things I had forced myself to work through that I often felt dysfunctional.

I had a responsibility to a lot of people. And for them, I wanted to be more aligned and balanced, but I also wanted to know what that version of me would look like.

I'd always thought I could do it later, when I'd escaped from my father, when I'd killed Fernando, when I’d found the trafficked victims.

But Simon and Fernando—even from his grave—were still causing chaos in my life, and it might never end. I might never find the young girls and women. And even if I did, who knew what other secrets Fernando and Simon had? Who knew how long it would take to beat Felipe and win the war he'd started?

I couldn't keep shoving my mental and emotional health to the back-burner, no matter how scared I was. Yes, this therapist might judge me, not believe me, or worse, but I'd handle it, just like I always did.

I made my way inside, took the intake forms from the receptionist, and sat down while I waited for Estelle—my new therapist—to see me.

I tried to detach myself as I answered each question, tried to ignore the shame I felt for coming here. It grew as I selected each symptom, because until now I'd never realized just how bad I was.

I'd thought my headaches were normal, even my heart palpitations, and shortness of breath. It never occurred to me that regular people didn't experience those things daily like I did.

It made me feel like a failure.

"I remember when I had to fill one of those out. It sucked."

I jumped at the voice next to me. I never heard her come in or a door open or close. The woman was beautiful, tall with long flowing blonde hair and crystal-clear blue eyes.

I should have noticed her, but I guessed I was too focused on the intake chart and my overwhelming thoughts to pay attention.

I couldn't afford to let myself get carried away with my thoughts like that again. I needed to stay alert for Marco and I, for our families. Felipe might try something again at any time.

"I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sorry." Her smile was warm, kind, and disarming.

I sat back in my chair trying to calm my nerves. "No, it's all right."

"Do you mind if I sit beside you?"

The entire lobby was empty with more than enough chairs for her to sit somewhere else. But maybe she was just chatty and needed someone to talk to.

I didn't really want to hold a conversation with anyone, but I shook my head. "No, go ahead."

"Thanks." She sat down, then turned to me. "I have a little bit of an agenda for coming over here."

I didn't expect her to be blunt.

"You remind me of myself when I first came in here."

"I do?"

"Yes, nervous, not wanting to be here, like you're ready to bolt at any second."

My eyes widened, and she laughed.

"You're good at hiding it but… I think when you've gone through certain things and responded to them in a similar way, it makes it easy to spot those same behaviors in other people."

I wasn't sure what to say to that. Knowing a stranger could see through me so easily felt… invasive. Not in a way that was uncomfortable; more like someone revealing their mask to me and asking me to reveal my own.

The thought of doing so made me vulnerable, pathetic, something I hated feeling.

I didn't like to wallow in my pity. I didn't want to share my story. And I didn't think anyone else could relate to me—especially not a woman like her.

She was glowing, had a beautiful wedding ring on her finger, and seemed like she had her life together.

That wasn't me.

I could never be that, no matter how much I acted otherwise, something that would be far too apparent to her if I accepted the olive branch it felt like she was extending.

She rested her head back against the wall. "I've been seeing Estelle now for about six years. There was a time when I thought I'd always be that person. That I'd always be weak, allow others to walk over me for the sake of upholding peace. That I'd always be willing to sacrifice myself for others. I thought that was the single good quality I had, the only thing I was good for. I'd happily be a punching bag if it meant taking care of those I loved. It didn't matter if I lived in fear, even if I didn't survive, as long as they were all right." She looked around the office. "When I first came here, I thought it was a waste of time. How could anyone relate to the way I was feeling?" Her eyes moved to mine. "Then Estelle asked me if I always felt like I needed to be the hero for everyone else, and I broke down crying."

I tightened my grip around the pen in my hand. "I don't feel like I need to be the hero," I whispered.

One of her eyebrows rose. "Really? You don't feel like you have a responsibility to everyone else? That you can't ever actually be the person you want to be? That you can't let your walls down or let people inside because if you do, they'll see you for who you think you are—which is probably the names of all the absolute worst things anyone has ever called you?"

Each of her questions flayed me open and showed my deepest, darkest fears—and I trembled from the accuracy of her words.

Her voice grew softer. "Do you believe you deserve to be loved, wanted? Cherished? That you have worth exactly as you are, not for everything you think you have to do or who you have to be for everyone else?"

I bit the inside of my lip hard. It was the only way to distract myself from the turbulent, overwhelming feelings choking me. If I didn't, if I let them out now, I'd sob like a little baby.

This woman could only be a few years older than me, and yet, the amount of wisdom she had was insurmountable. I couldn't imagine ever being like her. "Are you… do you believe those things now?"

Her smile turned slightly sad. "Most days. Some days, like today, the world still feels like it's falling apart, but it's not as severe as it once was." She interlaced her fingers. "It can be something small, like my children crying, and no matter what I do, I can't get them to stop or cheer them up. But the nightmares of what I've gone through have stopped. And I know that I'm not only a good wife, a good mother. A daughter, sister, and friend, but I'm also a good person to myself." Her eyes warmed. "I believe in myself, I know I have worth, and that I deserve at least better than I've been through, and that's enough ."

I nodded. I'd never thought or tried to grasp any of that for myself. To me, living just meant being free. I'd never thought about love to others or to myself. I wasn't even sure I knew what that looked like.

I believed in myself to overcome anything I needed to, but that was simply because I wouldn't quit. And that wasn't what it sounded like for her, like having trust and faith in myself.

"How did you get there?"

"Estelle, a loving man that I get to call my husband, my children, and friends who have become my family."

Could I ever have that?

Yes, I was here to meet with Estelle, and I knew I cared about Marco just as he cared about me. But could he be my husband one day? Could we have children and dedicate ourselves to one another in such a permanent way?

That future scared me, knowing how much it would hurt if it never happened. If Marco disappeared from my life, he'd take my heart and happiness with him. I'd never be whole again.

I'd given him so much of me, far more than I'd realized, and I trusted him to hold those parts of me in his hands. But marriage, a family? Was that life really in the cards for me? Could that really happen one day? Could I even be a good mother when I'd never had an example of one?

"I don't know if I could ever have that. I'm scared to even fantasize about it. I don't even have any friends." I hung my head and whispered, "I'm not even sure what friendship looks like.”

"You do now."

My gaze snapped to hers, and she smiled.

"My name is Johanna, but my friends call me Jo, and if you'd like, I'd love to be friends with you."

"I-I don't think… I'm not sure I'd be a good friend. I don't know how to be one."

Her smile grew, and her face softened. "You don't need to be anything else than who you are . Let me have the honor of getting to know that person. That's more than enough for me."

I wanted to tell her no, that it would be better if she stayed far away from me.

But then she pulled a card from her purse. "My husband's here to get me. Think it over, and if you decide you'd like to try, this has my personal cell number and email on it."

She got up, waved goodbye, and left. And even though there were a million reasons I shouldn't have, I added her as a contact in my phone.

It had been three weeks since I started therapy, and I'd never had such a volatile hate-love relationship with anything in my life.

I cried more than I ever thought possible and felt as though I was constantly coming apart at the seams, which was exactly what Estelle thought I needed.

She had a lot of concerns regarding the frequency of what I had now learned were anxiety and panic attacks, especially since they had reached the stage of blacking out. She thought it was best for me to learn how to actually feel my emotions safely. So we met in her office once a week and I checked in with her over the phone twice a week.

Estelle didn't go easy on me. She asked questions and listened, probed when I was quiet, but gave me time to sort my thoughts. The woman was brilliant and a bit terrifying. It made me respect her.

Though difficult, her therapy sessions gave me a lot of answers. She explained I had PTSD, which gave me something to research. And what I found made me feel like there were others like me, like I wasn't so alienated from the rest of society.

It was one of the very reasons I’d succumbed and called Johanna. Because if Johanna had seen herself in me, and had grown into someone who could allow love, family, and relationships into her life, that meant one day I might be able to do the same.

We talked almost every day, from texts to phone calls. She had even introduced me to some of her friends and family members, Daniella and Mya. It had been good for me, really good.

But now, I needed to shift my focus.

The police had closed the investigation into the shooting, which meant it was finally time to get revenge against Felipe.

Everything was set and ready to go. Tomorrow Marco and I would wage our war.

While we’d covered all the bases we could, Felipe was likely to run. And it was entirely possible we might miss someone in his familia or an alliance with someone else who would retaliate against us.

For that reason, I’d need to keep my distance from Jo, at least until all of this was over, and the thought of that made me oddly sad.

I hadn’t known Jo for long. There were plenty of things I didn’t know about her, and things she didn’t know about me. I hadn’t told her my real occupation or the reasons why I saw Estelle so frequently.

The voice inside of me, the one that spoke with so much doubt and negativity said that if I ever came clean to Jo, she’d leave. And I wouldn’t blame her.

Even if I hadn’t been raised to think so negatively about myself, my life was dangerous. At any time, someone could hire someone to kill me, or threaten the people I cared about.

But when I’d told Estelle about that, she said, “You cannot control the future, and no matter how much you want to, you cannot protect those you love from hurt, pain, or even death. That’s part of life. What you can do is believe in yourself to handle life as it comes, and you can trust in those around you to do the same. If someone wants to leave you, that’s their decision, but by trying to make it for them, you’re doing the both of you a huge disservice. Wouldn’t it be better to enjoy the time you have with them? Make memories and allow them to enter your life and fill it with joy? Let people have a positive impact on you, Catalina. You deserve it.”

Her words stuck with me. They were what I used to get me through every time I thought I should run, every time I thought I wasn’t worth the trouble.

I deserved to have good people in my life, people I could let in and show how much they meant to me—like Marco, my familia, and Jo.

After my therapy session today, Estelle had given me homework to tell at least one positive person in my life that I cared for them. And in all honesty, it was the perfect time to do so. After all, while I wanted to believe in the best possible outcome, we were about to step into a war. There was no telling how things might go.

The problem was, I didn’t quite know how to. But I knew someone who did.

I called Jo, and she answered on the second ring.

“Hey! I was hoping I would hear from you today.” Her voice, as always, was warm, happy, and peaceful. I let it wash over me and calm my nerves.

“Really? You’re not too busy?”

“No, never for you. Plus, you sound off.”

“Things are a little… tense. There’s a lot happening all at once, and I’m not sure how it’s going to pan out.”

Jo hummed in agreement. “You said you were facing off against a competitor, right?”

That was the lie I’d gone with, the closest thing I could say to the truth. “Yes, and he’s a piece of work.”

“Just be careful, and if you need anything, I’m here.”

“Jo, I could never involve you in anything dangerous.” The thought of her being hurt broke my heart. I’d be devastated if it was because of me.

“Just remember what I said. I can handle a lot more than you think I can.”

Her voice had a firmness to it that I didn’t understand. She was always saying things like that, as if she’d experienced more violence and danger than I could ever imagine.

I wanted to ask, but I didn’t. I didn’t want to pry, and sometimes I wondered if she felt the same about me. But I hoped one day we’d be able to share those pieces of ourselves with one another.

“How did therapy go?” she asked, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Estelle whooped my ass as usual,” I huffed.

Jo barked out a laugh. “Is it too sore for you to sit down?”

“Almost. I don’t know how you’ve survived so many years with her. She gave me homework, Jo. Homework ! I thought I’d get a reprieve since we’d be out of touch for the week, but she just doubled down. She’s worse than any professor I had in college.”

“That’s Estelle, all right. Her brand of therapy is gentle and blunt. It works though.”

“Unfortunately, it does." I bit my lip. "That’s actually why I’m calling.”

“Oh?”

I fiddled with the hem of my skirt, then forced myself to stop and took a deep breath. “My homework assignment is to tell at least one person how I feel about them. Would you mind if I tried with you?”

“Oh Catalina… of course you can!” The smile in her voice warmed my heart.

I squeezed my wrists. A part of me felt silly for being so nervous. I wanted to chastise myself for it, tell myself to grow up, but that wouldn’t fix anything.

Remember what Estelle said. It’s okay to do things while you’re afraid.

“Our friendship surprised me." I drew in a deep breath. "I keep people at an arm’s length and for most of my life, I’ve thought that’s what I had to do to survive. I never thought I’d have a friend, especially not one so fast. It’s hard for me to trust others like that.”

Another deep breath. "But you make it easy. You've been nothing but nice… no, kind to me. You've involved me in your world and shared so much with me. You inspire me and I admire your strength to constantly fight against the trauma you've faced."

I swallowed hard. Remember, it doesn't matter how long she's in your life or what happens tomorrow. This is about joy, experiencing and sharing joy, allowing someone in. You can do it.

"I only hope to be half the woman you are and to leave as much of an impact on people as you do. Thank you for being my friend."

"I..." Jo choked, then sniffled. "Thank you. Thank you for sharing all of that with me, but can I tell you a secret?"

"What is it?"

"I feel the same way about you."

I gasped. "What? But?—"

"You don't see it because you don't know how to yet, but you leave an impact on everyone you touch. You've left one on me, even on Daniella and Mya, and they've only met you twice."

She cleared her throat. "I know you haven't had a good life, that you haven't been treated in the way you deserve, but it's the truth. You are an absolutely incredible woman. Your courage is astounding. You're a leader, one that is so wise, patient, and determined to do the best for all of those around you, not realizing that you already do. You give your all, Catalina. I see that and anyone around you that doesn't is blind."

I opened and closed my mouth multiple times, unsure of what to say.

"I think that's why Estelle gave you this homework assignment."

"What do you mean?"

"I think she wanted you to share your feelings for someone close to you, but also hoped that you'd realize how much you meant to those around you, too."

"Oh," I muttered.

What Jo was saying made sense, but I didn't know how to wrap my mind around it and accept it.

It wasn't the first time someone had looked at me favorably. My familia did now, but I was doing something for them. That didn't diminish my efforts, but I thought it only made sense. Eventually, if you worked hard and helped others, they'd learn to lean on you. Even if that wasn't why I pushed myself so hard for them, it still had that outcome.

Marco was the first person who ever saw me differently. In the beginning, I thought everything he said, all his compliments and flirtations, were just to get something from me. But Marco didn't need me, not in the way others did. He simply wanted me in his life.

And now, there was Jo, one more person who didn't need me for anything but was still so kind and loving to me.

The monstrous voice laying within me awoke. Doubt crept into my mind. I wasn't worth all of that. I didn't deserve love or affection. No one could simply want me. They always had an underlying agenda.

I took a deep breath and practiced what Estelle had taught me. I didn't need to write down the worry or doubt. I'd always put my emotions in a jar, so the exercise felt familiar.

But this time, I took the negative self-talk, that I was worthless, broken, not deserving of anything or anyone, and gently placed it in a box. Then I visualized myself putting the lid on top, effectively sealing it out.

I took a breath, breathing in for four seconds, holding for seven, then exhaling for eight. I did it again and again, visualized myself being grounded. In my mind's eye, roots connected me to the Earth. We were one, a shared heartbeat that could never be destroyed.

Sunlight streamed across my desk, I held a pen in my hand, I heard the hum of my computer. Tasted the saliva in my mouth, smelled the scent of peonies and lavender, then lifted Marco's shirt which I'd begun wearing whenever he'd left my house, and inhaled the lingering scent of him too.

It brought me down from my anxiety, pulled me back to the present where I was safe and allowed to express myself freely.

It hadn't taken long, but Jo had given me space, staying silent as she waited for me to find my footing once more. "Thank you, not just for waiting, but for what you said. I never thought about it from that perspective."

"What happens when you think about it that way?"

"It scares me," I said quietly.

"It won't always." Her voice was gentle, yet firm.

Her reassurance felt like a warm blanket of energy that wrapped around me and settled into my bones. If I could have, I would have buried myself in it. But I wasn't out of the woods yet.

"I want to tell Marco how I feel. But if this is going to be my reaction..."

"How will you know if you don't try, though?"

I bit my lip. I wanted to try. I didn't want to have any regrets and not confess my feelings to him, but I also didn't want to make a mistake.

I tapped my pen against my desk, hitting it harder, faster, until finally I stopped and whispered, "How did you know you loved Luke?"

Jo shifted, and it sounded like she was getting more comfortable. "Our relationship was… complicated. I knew he was the one for me immediately. But, unfortunately, there were a lot of things going on that prevented us from being together. I could have, should have, asked him for help, but instead I decided to push him away, thinking that would be better for the both of us."

That’s almost like what I tried to do with Marco.

"As you can guess, that didn't really work out." A soft smile crept into her voice. "As things settled down, and I got to know Luke, I grew to love him even more. He's wild. He makes me laugh. He's so kind and generous. He teaches me how to be a better person, how to live life in a way where every day is fun and enjoyable. I want to know more about him, learn more, grow more with him. My life wouldn't be the same without him in it."

I fiddled with the pen again. Her words made so much sense to me. They were exactly how I felt about Marco, but I was scared of being wrong, of leading him on somehow, or getting his hopes up and letting him down in the future.

I'd never known two people who were so deeply in love before, not until I'd met Jo and Luke. Anyone who sat down in a room with them for all of five seconds could see just how much they loved one another. It was written all over them. But was that how Marco and I appeared to other people? Was I too closed off to show that to him? Did that side of me even truly exist?

When I was a little girl, I dreamed of falling in love with my fairytale prince. When my father beat me, I hoped that prince would save me one day, make me feel loved and wanted. But I wasn't a child anymore, and those dreams had long since disappeared, taking the belief that I could be loved or give love with them.

"Did you ask me how I knew I loved Luke, because you think you might love Marco?"

"I-I want to, I hope I do, I'm just not sure. I never imagined myself trusting anyone, especially not a man, for the rest of my life. But he came and he just… never left.

"He was so persistent." I chuckled. "He pushed me to let him in, consider more, want more for myself and my life. And even though I tried not to, eventually I just couldn't imagine a second without him. But is that enough? Is that love?"

"I think love has certain similarities, but that every relationship has its own facets. But when it comes to you and Marco, I can say without a fraction of a doubt that you love him."

My eyes widened. "Really?"

Jo giggled. "Yes. When you talk about him, your tone softens. You laugh and smile more. You're warmer, serene even. There's a fire in you and he's the only one who ignites it."

I love him? Really? Truly?

My heart beat faster, but not in fear. I was overwhelmed with joy, with the possibility that I’d finally found something I thought I’d lost. That maybe, just maybe, the life I’d always longed for was right at my fingertips.

“I know it’s scary. It’s terrifying to let someone in your heart, to love someone, especially when you’ve gone through unimaginable suffering. But don’t let that fear block what could be the best thing that has ever happened in your life.”

I clutched my chest, felt the excitement and happiness flooding my veins. It was exhilarating. Marco was my person, mine . And if I believed that to be true, if I meant it when I promised him I’d never let him go again, then I could find a way to tell and show him I loved him today.

“I won’t,” I whispered, my voice full of fierce determination. “I won’t let anything get in my way, not even myself.”