It had been a long day, and I’d been looking forward to a quiet evening at home. When I turned the key in the lock, I heard the sound of the television blaring from the den.
Valentina was by herself, watching a children’s show, and Cassandra was nowhere in sight. What the hell had possessed her to leave our daughter in the room alone?
“Hello,” I called out.
Valentina was sitting on the sofa, mesmerized, and didn’t even hear me come in. I walked over and stood in front of the television. She looked up, and a wide grin lit up her face.
“Daddy!” She jumped from the sofa and ran to me.
“Hello, princess. How’s my girl?”
“Did you bring me something?”
I pretended to think. “Hmmm, I don’t know. Let me see.” I opened my briefcase. “What’s this?” I pulled out a Moana doll.
“Yay,” she said as she reached for it.
“Uh, where’s my kiss?” I leaned down, and she gave me a peck on my cheek, then grabbed the doll and started playing with it.
Something was wrong. Valentina was only three years old. Cassandra would never leave her by herself for longer than a few minutes. “Where’s Mommy?” I asked Valentina, hoping she couldn’t hear the trepidation in my voice.
She pointed a finger toward the stairs.
“Come with me,” I said, and taking her by the hand, I led her upstairs and to her room. “Play with your toys, sweetheart. Daddy will be right back.” My unease built as I headed to our bedroom and saw that the door was closed. What was Cassandra doing in there with the door shut, making it hard for her to hear Valentina, and why had she left our young daughter alone? It wasn’t like her. I wondered if she was getting depressed again. It might be time to have her start another round of therapy.
“Cassandra? Where are you?”
There was no answer. I turned the door handle and entered to find Cassandra sitting at the dressing table, a book in her hands.
“Cassandra?”
She spun around and glared at me. Her face was puffy and her eyes red from crying. “I can’t believe this. You beast!”
I flinched. “What are you talking about?”
“Shut the door. I don’t want Valentina to hear.”
I obeyed, and started to go to her, but she put up a hand. “Don’t come any closer.”
She was completely unhinged.
“What is the matter with you?”
She stuck her chin out defiantly. “You lied to me. All that time, I believed my husband hurt me, and you tricked me into believing it. I left him because of you, my therapist! What kind of man does what you did?”
It was then that I noticed she was holding my personal logbook from her file. How had she gotten it? Everything important had been locked in my safe. The room began to spin. I sat down on the bed, taking deep breaths.
“How did you get that?” I said finally.
She laughed, a bitter sound. “That’s your first question? How did I get it?”
“I can explain.”
“Oh really?” She looked down at the book in her hand and began to read aloud:
August 17: Cassandra Dryer, 27-year-old female, married, presenting with acute depression brought on by 3 miscarriages over a period of 2 years. Family history: Orphaned at age twelve, foster care until age eighteen, six different homes.
September 9: Husband emotionally absent and unsupportive. Intuition tells me he is not only emotionally but physically abusive as well, perhaps the cause of Cassandra’s miscarriages, although she does not admit this. A careful step-by-step program will give her the strength to leave the marriage. It will take meticulous guidance and support. Swiftness is critical, so I will need to see her several times a week, perhaps even daily. If she stays with this man, she will die, just as all of her unborn children have died.
September 30: Disclosure of sexual abuse at age fourteen, first foster home. Hypnosis has revealed more than one abuser over four years. Working on memory erasure to eradicate trauma. Explained the potential pitfalls of this treatment, but she’s insistent. She has not shared any of this past abuse with her husband. Becoming clear to me it’s because he is also abusive. She feels ashamed and, on some level, has chosen a man who mirrors her earlier abusers. Despite her insistence that he has never physically harmed her, it is clear she’s adept at repression. I’m convinced that he has abused her, that he is in fact the reason she keeps having miscarriages. Her depression will never go away if she stays with him.
She glares at me, turning to another page, and continues reading.