The Beauty in Eternity

Chapter 109.

I grab my keys and sneak out of the house, driving directly to my therapists office. As I arrive I find her locking up. She only opens until six today, I hadn't noticed the time. "Sorry," I shake my head.

She holds the door open and steps aside. "Come on."

I make my way inside and sit down, I can't even bring myself to look at her. "Every time I leave him alone I feel like my chest is going to explode. What's wrong with me?"

She crosses her legs and leans forward. "This isn't about Mason, Amara. It goes back further than that."

Her voice is so calm and collected, she has total faith in her words—I just wish I was in that position.

"Why do you keep saying that? What do you mean?"

"You still blame yourself for Carol's death, don't you?" she utters.

My head snaps up and my eyes almost instantly begin to sting. That was the last thing I expected her to say. "There was nothing I could have done to help Carol."

"But you were supposed to be there with her, in delivery—weren't you?"

I pause. "Yes."

"And you weren't there. And she died."

"Yes," I start to cry.

"And somewhere, Amara, in your subconscious mind you're scared that if you leave Mason, you won't be there to save him. The way you weren't there to save Carol."

The tears begin to stream down my face, as it begins to makes vague sense in my mind. "You have to forgive yourself, Amara," she tells me. "Even if you were there, there was nothing you could have done. She had the best medical professionals around, they did everything they could. Carol knew there was a high chance she wasn't going to make it through the birth."

"But I should've been there!" I cry. "I should've been there for her to say goodbye and to hold her hand! She wanted me there, she called me."

My voice breaks and I clutch my chest. "She called me again and again and I wasn't there, and she died."

"It isn't the same situation, Amara. This isn't Carol. Mason isn't going to die."

"He thought about it," I whimper. "He thought about it, and even if it was just for a split second he thought about it. I can't breathe when I know that he thought about it."

"You forget that you thought about it once too, Amara. But you're here. Mason was fighting PTSD, the overwhelming urge to push the people closest to him away—and the burden of not remembering a traumatic chunk of his life. He was at his lowest point, and you were there. You were there this time. You held his hand. You done exactly what you would have for Carol years ago," she explains, her features soft and understanding. "Only the outcome wouldn't have been the same. Carol would still have died. You aren't a miracle worker, Amara, and it wasn't your fault."

I wipe my eyes and catch my breath a little. "I thought I let go of it. I guess I hadn't."

"Grief, guilt, it has a funny way of sinking it's teeth into you and not letting go. But you have to. You have to let it go," she reaches out, taking my hand. "Say it, that it wasn't your fault."