Chapter 282: Enough
*You are more than enough. – Chance*
Sitting in the small living room like area, clutching the pink pillow to her chest with one hand and barely holding a cup of hot tea with the other, Rye swallowed hard looking at the other woman. What she said could not be accurate. All those times that she failed. That they had to leave because of her. No, she thought, this woman didn’t understand.
“You think I’m wrong?” Carly asked and Rye nodded her head. “Why?”
“Before my dad left the last time, he made us promise to take of each other.” She whispered hoarsely. “I failed.”
Carly sat her cup on the table as she stood up and moved in front of Rye. She gently pried the cup from the other woman’s hands and sat it on the table as she knelt. Clasping the smooth hands in her calloused ones she spoke softly.
“How old were you when you made this promise?”
“Twelve.” She mumbled.
Carly nodded, waiting for Rye to focus on her. It took a moment, but her lavender colored eyes finally made their way to her own green eyes. Smiling at her patient, she squeezed the younger woman’s hand.
“Thinking about what you know about your father. Considering what you know now as an adult. Keeping in mind what you’ve learned getting your teaching degree. With all of that, I want you to consider something.” Carly paused for a moment, letting Rye prepare for the revelation that she hoped would come.
“Do you really think that your father expected a twelve-year-old child to take care of a mentally unstable mother? Do you really think that your father expected a twelve-year-old child to take care of an older sister starting to show the symptoms of the same illness?”
Rye sat quietly for a moment and then her eyes widened. “Leigh Anne?”
“Yes. She began treatment for bipolar while you were in Tampa. What do you think was in Tampa that made her seek treatment?”
“Anthony.” Rye whispered. “My mom’s cousin.”
“Maybe we need to reach out to Cousin Anthony and see if he has answers that could help you.” Carly suggested with a smile. “Keep thinking about the other. Remember, you were a child. You had very little, if any, control over your life. Over the decisions that were made for you.”
“But I failed.”
“You survived and you thrived. You did not fail.”
“No, it’s my fault.” Rye argued with her mother’s condemning voice in her head. “I was scared, and I wouldn’t let the men….” she swallowed hard, “have me. Because of me they would beat mom. Because of me they would rape Leigh Anne.” Her voice grew softer and weaker as she spoke. “Because of me we had to move so many times. It was always, always because of me.”
Tears streamed down her face. “It’s because of me.” Now her voice grew stronger as her conviction grew. She condemned herself just as she had heard for so many years. Her strong belief of her guilt showing through.
“I told Anthony that mom wasn’t taking her medicine and we had to leave. I wanted dad home on my birthday, and he died. I refused to go to the party that night and mom died. It’s because of me.”
Her breath was ragged and had an occasional gulp and gasp of air. Memories flowed throw her brain, her body and her soul. Condemnation and beatings from her mother. Protection from her sister. The attacks from men. Whispers behind her back at school.
She could feel the men watching her. The slaps and hits from her mom. She could see and feel it all and her whole self was racked with guilt.
“Can you make it rain?” Carly asked her gently. Rye stared at her through the tears. “Can you make it rain?”
“No.” came the confused response.
“Can you make other people do things?” again Rye gave a confused no. “Can you make countries go to war?”
“No. But it’s my fault.” Rye couldn’t let go of the guilt. It had been drilled into her before her mother’s death. Afterwards, she continued it on her own.
“Your mother needed someone to take the blame for the things that she could not control.” Carly said gently. “You were young and vulnerable. It’s not your fault.”
“But…” Rye started but Carly shook her head, never breaking eye contact.
“No. You did not cause a war in Afghanistan. You did not cause your mom to have an illness. You did not cause your sister to get pregnant.” She smiled. “You are not responsible for any of that.”
Rye sniffled and nodded.
“Let’s look at what you are responsible for. You graduated high school early. You have paid your way through college. You are graduating with a four-year degree in three years. You moved across the country for your nephew. You found a job, while attending school online, taking care of an infant and getting custody of that infant. Do you know how impressive that is?”
Rye shook her head.
“Extremely. And you’ve done it on your own. Now you need to learn to lean on others and share the burden.”
As if on cue, there was a knock on the door and Carly called out “Come in, Chance.”
He opened and closed the door going straight for Rye. He sat on the love seat and looked at Carly. She gave a nod, and he gathered his fiancée in his arms.
“I like to end sessions with an affirmation. Rye, I want you to repeat after me. I am enough. I am strong. I am loved.”
“I am enough. I am strong. I am….” Rye took a deep breath before whispering “loved.”
“Every time you see your reflection, or you feel like you’re not any of those, I want you to remind yourself that you are. Because you are so much more than what you’ve been taught.”
Carly stood and walked out closing the door, giving the couple some privacy. Chance held Rye as she cried. It was quite a while before she looked up at him.
“Do you think she’s right?” she whispered uncertainly.
“I know she is, Duchess.” He replied before kissing her temple. “You are more than enough. You are so fucking strong.” He tipped her face up to his and kissed her lips. “And I love you.”
"I wish I could believe in myself as mush as you do."
"Until you can," Chance suggested, "believe in me, because I believe in you."
