Rekindling Tradition

Chapter Thirty: One Step At A Time

Disclaimer: All characters and settings are purely fictional. If there are any similarities to real people or places, it is merely coincidental. The plot is written by me and not copied from any other writer.

Note: I am not a therapist, nor am I trying to be one. I have zero skills or certification in psychology. This is purely fictional. Don't take offense, please. It is just for the story.

********* Chapter Thirty **********

You never truly understand the way the mind works. It spends years storing data of your life, and you're not sure which of those moments is locked away inside your long-term memory. Since seeing Doctor Wilson, I'm sure the worse memories are the ones we lock away from ourselves. Maybe it's to cope with the trauma. Maybe, it's denial. I don't know. But I never expected I was one of those persons.

Dr. Wilson is a middle-aged woman with the sweetest personality. She is dark-skinned and often wears her hair in a bob cut. Her eyes were big and trusting. Her smile was warm, and when it spread across her face, it made you feel like you could tell her anything. Tatum said she was one of the best in her field of work, and I believed him. 

Since my first visit, I've reluctantly expressed emotions concerning Rylee, my family, and even my teammates. Dr. Wilson knows the words to say. She knows what I need to hear to communicate everything on my mind. 

Usually, our sessions would last for two hours. But today, I only had an hour to spare since Ty had his first game today. I wouldn't miss it. I wanted to see him in action. Rylee bragged about how good he was even for a seven-year-old. It was a bit sad hearing about his games and not having seen one for myself. I shook it off, promising myself I would be to all his games from now on. 

"Theo, come in," Doctor Wilson said when she glimpsed me at the door of her office. I offered a polite smile and took my spot on the couch. Dr. Wilson grabbed her book and pen from her desk and walked towards her chair, opposite mines. In this environment, I felt like we were more friends than doctor-patient. 

"How is everything? How are you?" She asked. It was a formality. Or it was an opening for her to dive deeper into my mind. I'm not sure. Dr. Wilson is strange like that. 

"Good. I'm going to see my son play for the first time," I admit nervously. 

Dr. Wilson smiled, "How does it feel? Getting to see him play for the first time." 

I smiled widely before replying, "Amazing. Ty's mother talks about how skilled he is all the time. I just want to see him for myself." Dr. Wilson began scribbling away on her notebook, nodding as she listened to me speak. Sometimes, when she makes notes, it terrifies me. She reassured me there was nothing to be concerned about, but it still makes me curious about what she's writing. 

"You mentioned your parents never truly supported your dream to play football. Do you think that's part of the reason you're excited? You want to give him something you never had," Dr. Wilson tilted her head slightly as she spoke. I'm not sure why but I felt a wave of emotions surge through me. I looked down a bit, trying to refocus myself. 

"I think so. My parents are focused on the Bradshaw name and everything it encompasses. When I first got into football, they supported me. Well, they supported the idea of me playing it as an extra-curricular activity. It would look good on paper, but as I got older, it outgrew its novelty for them," I admit, rubbing my hands together. Dr. Wilson scribbled away, but her eyes stayed locked on me. 

She paused for a moment to ask, "They wanted you to take over the family business. Is that not something you want to pursue?"

I shrugged, "I guess. It's a responsibility. I know eventually, I will take up my role as a Bradshaw. I just want to live my truth before I do."