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TW: contains mentions of past abuse, molestation, alcoholism. caution advised.
She didn't know how to feel. A few days, she spilt her guts out to a licensed therapist.
"I don't know what the fuck i'm doing."
"That's not true."
She looked up to see Thomas in the doorway.
"Tommy!"
She stumbled up to him, throwing her arms around him.
"Where have you been?"
"Training, as they say." He said warily.
"How have things been over here?"
"Same old shit."
"I heard you've been going to required therapy."
"Yeah."
"How's that been going?"
"Good, I guess."
"You want to go have some lunch together?"
"Sure."
Thomas's face lit up, beginning to stand, but she pulls him back down.
He looks at her in confusion.
"Iz?"
"There are things I haven't told you. A lot, actually. And I wasn't ready to tell you then. But now I am. And I want you to know."
"You don't have to."
"I know. But I need to."
Thomas nods, sitting down next to her.
"Do you remember when dad left?"
"I do."
"It's my fault. I'm the reason he left."
"No, it's not. How could you possibly think that?"
"But it was."
"I found out he was cheating on mom, with a woman from his job. And- And I told mom. And she got upset, and confronted him, and he left because of me."
"Izzy."
"He told me I was a mistake. That if he'd had it his way, I would've never been born."
Thomas sits there, silently.
"The last thing he said to me was that I was on my own."
"When I was nine, mom had a man over. An old family friend I suppose."
Thomas's eyes widened, not liking the direction this was headed.
"He stayed that night. And he came into my room, in the middle of the night. And he molested me."
"I never told anyone until now. Because I knew it would change everything. That no one would ever look at me the same."
