Pretty Broken Butterfly

A Walk I Don't Want To Remember

A/N: You all have spoken and I have reworked it to make it flow. Hopefully, this works out for everyone. For those that wanted option B, I'm sorry but hang tight because you'll still get the goodies.

Eight Months Ago

"Are you ready to face that day, Keaton?" Lionel asks as he taps his pen against the notepad in his lap in a hypnotic rhythm.

I don't miss the tiny flinch he tries to hide at the bitterness in my laugh. "Am I ready to face the day that I destroyed the most amazing woman in this world? Absolutely. That's the whole reason I blocked the fucking shit from my mind."

He shoots me a sharp look, reprimanding me for my sarcasm. "There is no pity for the wounds you've inflicted, Keaton."

Scrubbing my palms over my face harshly, I blow out a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me. For the shit you've put you and Charlie through, you're making better progress than I'd expected."

It still surprises me sometimes how Lionel is. I'm sure there are some people that would see him as unprofessional, but honestly, it works for me. His personality puts me more at ease with him and makes it easier to open up. Therapy wasn't something I'd ever been open to before my betrayal. I could barely make myself talk to Charlie about my feelings, let alone a complete stranger. Then I did the unthinkable and knew that I needed to do something beyond believing that I'm all right. I knew at the moment that my brain kicked back online in that pool house that there was something wrong with me. Something wrong inside of me. I've always heard that cheaters have something missing inside them. Until that day, I wouldn't have thought that about myself. I would have said that I was whole. That I was happy and loved.

If that was the truth, there was no way in hell I'd be able to cheat on Charlie.

Last week, we touched on my "friendship" with Rianna. Lionel pointed out the same thing that Charlie, Amelia, and everyone fucking else, has tried to tell me—I was having an emotional affair for those three years. It's still something I'm struggling to accept. I don't know if I'm just not seeing it now that the affair fog, as Lionel calls it, is gone or if there really wasn't shit there to begin with, but Rianna honestly had nothing compared to Charlie. Like there wasn't one thing I was looking for in her I didn't already have with my girl.

Lionel mentioned it could be complacency which I think I can agree with, but there's still something inside of me that tells me it's possible that it could be something else too. But what? That's where I'm struggling at. What in the fuck was I looking for? Why did I give myself permission to fuck Rianna? Why did I do something that I fucking knew lowered my inhibitions after the way she had been acting toward me that day? Did I truly want it to happen? Was I secretly looking to end my relationship with Charlie for some stupid goddamn reason that I can't recall and was just too much of a pussy to do it with words?

"Where'd you go just now, Keaton?"

I glance over at Lionel and shake my head. "The same place I always do. Trying to establish why I did it. Trying to understand what caused me to throw away the one thing that's always meant the world to me."

He writes something down on his pad before glancing back up at me and doing that fucking pen-tapping thing again. Unable to help myself, I focus on the way the pen moves in an up-and-down motion, my eyes following each direction it takes as the rat-a-tat allows my mind to drift.

A white noise slowly builds in my head until a loud whack startles me and jerks my body to a straightened position.

There's a small smile flirting with the corner of his mouth as he stares at me knowingly. "You're still not able to remember what happened?"

"I remember everything until we enter the pool house and then everything that happens after I heard Charlie's voice," I admit quietly.

I feel stupid anytime he tells me I'm the one blocking it out on purpose. The first time he saw the confusion on my face, he tried to explain that it's kind of like a trauma response. Because I knew my actions were something very traumatic for someone that I loved, I refuse to allow myself to face the reasoning. In my head, I know exactly what happened. I just can't ever remember. Any time I try to force myself to walk through the steps, I break out into horrendous sweats and my heart beats so fast that I'm terrified it's going to burst.

I'm not sure it's so much of a trauma response as it is me being fucking terrified to face what got me to where I am. I'm fucking terrified to face the guy I was four months ago in that pool house. The one that could hurt someone they loved so cruelly.

Lionel flicks his pen again, unintentionally grabbing my attention. Hell, it's probably intentional at this point.

"Let's talk about how we're going to go back to the pool house. As I've mentioned in a few previous sessions, hypnosis will be your best bet for getting your brain to open up and release what it's working hard to keep hidden from you. Have you ever heard of Rapid Transformational Therapy?"

"No. What is it?"

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and dangle my hands between them while I keep my eyes on the steady movement of his pen.

Tap. Click.

Tap. Click. Click.

"It's a technique that I'm going to use. Another therapist created it in the field. It'll allow me to guide you to a quicker hypnotic state than a traditional approach would, and then we'll focus on deepening your trance until you're comfortable enough to break through that wall you have up."

Tap. Click.

Tap. Click. Click.

I nod and he continues in a soothing, methodical voice. "What would it be like if you closed your eyes and rolled them up a little, then leaned back in your seat and stretched out your legs?"

It only takes a few seconds before I'm resting back on the couch. My legs are out in front of me and crossed at the ankles, and I fold my hands over my stomach.

Tap. Click.

Tap. Click. Click.

"Very good. You find yourself feeling an overwhelming sense of calm as you fall deeper and deeper into your state of relaxation."

Lionel's words turn hazy as they come to me and my body relaxes further. "Just pretend you're lying in bed that morning. Walk me through your day."

And there, behind my closed lids, the worst day of my life plays out in crystal clarity...