Page 141 of When We Were Us

"Ryleigh, how are you doing?" Dr. Snell asked, her voice gentle as she leaned forward in her leather chair.

I fidgeted with the hem of my blouse, avoiding her gaze. "Okay, I guess. It's hard now that the anniversary is approaching."

Dr. Snell nodded, her pen poised over her tablet. "But you've come to terms with it?"

A humorless laugh escaped my lips. "Sometimes I feel I have, and other times, no. The violence and the loss are hard to take."

"But things are very different than last year," she prompted, her eyes searching my face.

"Yes, they are. Oliver...." My voice cracked on his name, a flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

Oliver was everything I wanted, and the time we spent together was so short before it all changed. Our first year of marriage was one I would like to forget. I reached for a tissue from the box on the glass table, dabbing at the tears that had begun to fall.

The memories of that day came rushing back, as vivid as if they had happened yesterday. If my head wasn't already messed up from what happened when I was six and on Fox Island, it certainly was after. I could still see Oliver plunging into the pool with that maniac Caruso, blood staining the water a murky pink.

I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself. "I didn't see the aftermath," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper. "I passed out under Brenda as she covered my body with her own."

Dr. Snell's pen scratched across the screen as I spoke. "And then?"

"I was in and out of consciousness on the way to the hospital and later in the emergency room. I heard the doctor say it was probably from shock." I swallowed hard, remembering the despair that had consumed me. "My only thoughts were how could I survive without my husband by my side. It was almost unfathomable."

A knock at the door pulled me from the events of that day. It swung open to reveal Oliver's smiling face, and my heart swelled with love and gratitude.

What I didn't know as I faded back and forth between dream and reality was that Oliver had survived. The wound in his shoulder bled enough for me to think he was dying, but the bullet had only lodged in his muscle. It caused considerable pain but not a lot of damage. Now, I'm thankful for every day I have with him.

Oliver's brow furrowed with concern as he sat next to me, his arm wrapping protectively around my shoulders. "Why are you crying?" he asked softly, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear.

I leaned into his embrace, inhaling his familiar scent. "Happy tears," I whispered, managing a watery smile. "I was just telling Dr. Snell how grateful I am that you're here."

Dr. Snell watched us with a warm expression. "Oliver's presence is a powerful reminder of how far you've come, Ryleigh. It's okay to acknowledge the pain of the past while celebrating the present."

I nodded, squeezing Oliver's hand. The road to healing was long and often difficult, but with Oliver by my side and the support of therapy, I was slowly learning to embrace the life we had fought so hard to keep.

"You're making great progress. I'm proud of you," Oliver said, his voice warm with affection as he squeezed my hand.

Dr. Snell nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "I'd have to agree. I'd like to see you next week."

I returned her smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "I'll make an appointment."

Oliver's fingers intertwined with mine as he led me to the reception area. Two sessions a week had helped immensely. I'd managed to let go of most of the events that had peppered my life with misery. I'd even forgiven my father, though I still couldn't fathom why he'd gotten into bed with a gangster. Oliver had come to grips with a similar situation, but he'd forgiven his father long ago.

"Would you like to go home?" Oliver asked, his thumb tracing circles on the back of my hand.

I looked up at him, puzzled. "Of course. Why would you think otherwise?"

A mischievous glint appeared in his eye. "Because Ethan is safe."

I rolled my eyes, unable to suppress a grin. "I'm sure he is. My mother isn't a monster."

Oliver chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. What I didn't know the day Oliver got shot was that I was pregnant. Ethan was just a tiny speck in my stomach then. I found out a couple of weeks later when my stomach wouldn't calm down. I thought it was nerves, but Oliver was the one who told me to take a test.

"No, she's not," he agreed, "but you're like a mother hen with him."

"He's my first," I protested weakly.

Oliver's arm snaked around my waist, pulling me closer. "But he won't be your last. I'd like to get you pregnant again."

A shiver of desire ran through me, but I shook my head. "Let's wait a little while."

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