Page 155 of Jude

‘I think he doesn’t want to crowd you. The ball’s in your court however, it’s your decision whether you want to come back or not.’

I leaned my head on the cold wall behind me, tears leaking down my cheeks.

‘I’m OK, but I’ve thought long and hard about why I keep pushing Jude away, Maggie. The truth is, I can’t survive another catastrophic loss in my life. I lost my parents when I was nine. I’ve been alone for most of my life, and I’m struggling with risking my heart. The argument we had broke me, and the terror of being abandoned is paralyzing me. If I trust him again, will he -?’

My voice trailed off.

‘You’re carrying a mountain of unhealed trauma, Sofia, and you don’t have to carry it alone,’ Maggie murmured. ‘Perhaps you need professional therapy to untangle these knots. I’ve got a trusted friend here in Nashville who’s an exceptional licensed counselor. She’s worked with many migrant women, too. I’m paying for ten private sessions right now, and you’re going to go. No arguments.’

I closed my eyes, her gentle voice and her firm support cutting through my defensive walls.

‘OK. I’ll go.’

Dr. Renee Restrepo’s downtown Nashville office occupied the third floor of a historic brick building.

It featured exposed cedar beams, a sizable Persian rug that muffled the city noise.

Towering bookshelves packed with thick clinical volumes and miniature clay pottery from South America lined the walls.

A plush velvet armchair in a soothing sage green sat angled toward a wall of arched windows, allowing the soft afternoon sunlight to illuminate the quiet space.

Dr. Restrepo was a striking woman in her early fifties, with silver-streaked dark hair secured in a loose chignon.

She had expressive, honey-colored eyes that radiated a calm empathy.

She wore a tailored charcoal skirt with a vibrant, embroidered Andean jacket.

I focused on the patterns on her sleeve as she sat across from me, her entire focus on me as I opened up to her.

I held nothing back, cataloging my childhood, my life scraping by in Calabria, to the shattered remains of my marriage.

I also shared how the fear of being betrayed, the terror of loss, and emotional numbness made it hard for me to forgive Jude.

I went into my anger from losing my parents and the overwhelming hopelessness that never quite left me, and how it made me question my purpose.

Dr. Restrepo utilized dynamic therapy to help me break down those early childhood experiences.

She shared practical cognitive tools, frameworks, and behavioral models designed to help me recognize my subconscious thought processes.

She also provided tips to navigate my deep-seated fears when my painful memories started to suffocate me.

‘They’ll assist you in dismantling negative cycles before they trigger a full panic response. You’ll come to understand why your adult mind reacts with defensive hostility whenever a threat materializes,’ she explained in her calm, pragmatic voice.

The initial sessions were devastating and draining.

Camilla, who was rapidly becoming a steadfast friend, often met me after my appointments to spirit me away to a tiny hole-in-the-wall trattoria.

We ate the food we missed from home, from crispy panzerotti to fiery fileja pasta with ’nduja and rich, slow-simmered goat ragù.

Her laughter and friendship gave me the relief I needed after the intensity of those hours.

As the weeks passed, I began to heal.

The transformation manifested in quiet victories; I had less to say about the mudslide or the betrayal.

My nightmares vanished.

I wasn’t jumping at sudden noises, and the constant dread about my uncertain future dissolved.