MOMMY ISSUES | Tamber

11- Bad person..

Tara sat hunched on the couch, her arms wrapped protectively around herself, as if trying to shield her wounded heart from further harm. Dark circles shadowed her eyes, evidence of sleepless nights filled with torment. Dr. Wilson, her therapist, observed her with a gentle gaze, concern etched on her face.

"I'm glad you reached back out to me, Tara," Dr. Wilson spoke softly, her voice a comforting presence in the room. "But I have to admit, I'm deeply concerned by how you've been presenting lately."

Tara kept her gaze averted, her body language guarded and tense. Dr. Wilson approached the delicate subject with care, giving Tara the space to share her story.

"You mentioned that you... upset Amber? That there was a confrontation?" Dr. Wilson's voice was gentle, coaxing Tara to open up. "Why don't you tell me what happened, in your own words?"

Tara's breath hitched audibly as she struggled to find the strength to speak. Her voice, when it finally emerged, was a cracked whisper, heavy with pain and regret.

"I cheated on her," Tara confessed, her voice barely audible. "At the club, after my interview... I got drunk and... and stupid, and I cheated."

A single tear escaped her eye, tracing a path down her bruised cheek. She hastily wiped it away, as if trying to erase the evidence of her own weakness.

"Amber found out," Tara continued, her voice trembling with remorse. "And just... lost it. Completely. And I deserved it, I guess, after what I did..."

Dr. Wilson's voice took on a firm tone, cutting through Tara's self-condemnation.

"While infidelity in a relationship is certainly a breach of trust, that in no way excuses or justifies physical violence," Dr. Wilson said firmly. "What Amber did was inexcusable."

Defiance flickered in Tara's haunted eyes, her wounded spirit beginning to assert itself.

"No, you don't understand," Tara protested, her voice tinged with a mix of pain and determination. "Amber's not... she's not a bad person. She just... God, you have no idea what I put her through over the years, how fucked up I was..."

Tara's words trailed off, her eyes squeezed shut as she fought against the onslaught of memories that threatened to consume her. The weight of her past mistakes and the damage she caused hung heavy in the air, suffocating her.

Tara's voice quivered as she spoke, her words laced with hoarseness.

"I drove her to it. She only reacted that way because of me. Because I'm toxic... because I ruined everything good in her life."

Dr. Wilson regarded Tara with a mixture of empathy and sadness, fully aware of the deflection tactic Tara was employing—shouldering the blame for the actions of others.

With a gentle yet firm tone, Dr. Wilson asked, "Tara... do you truly believe that, deep down? That this was your fault?"

Tara hesitated, her denial hanging in the air, but her shoulders slumped in defeat. She nodded silently, unable to meet Dr. Wilson's eyes.

Dr. Wilson's voice softened, filled with compassion. "Well, I don't have to agree with—"

Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted the conversation, and the door swung open to reveal Sam standing there, her face etched with worry. Her eyes immediately scanned Tara's disheveled appearance, and she hurried over to her sister, crouching down beside the couch.

In a quietly intense tone, Sam asked, "Hey T, are you about ready to—"

Her voice trailed off as she noticed the purpling bruise peeking out from Tara's neckline. Concern mingled with anger as Sam's gaze flicked up to meet Tara's haunted eyes. Without hesitation, she gently grasped the hem of Tara's sweater and tugged it up.

Tara winced, pain evident on her face, but she allowed Sam to reveal the vivid array of contusions marring her ribs and stomach. Sam inhaled sharply, her expression hardening into a mask of determination and protectiveness.

Sam's initial outburst is met with urgent protest from Tara, who pleads for her sister's restraint.

"Sammi, no! It wasn't Amber's fault, I-I told you what happened," Tara interjects urgently, attempting to redirect Sam's anger.

Sam, disbelieving and enraged, responds with incredulity. "And what, that makes this okay?! 'What you put her through?' Tara, listen to yourself!"

She reaches out as if to offer comfort and support, but Tara violently flinches back, a visceral reaction to the mere threat of physical contact. The shattered trust between them is palpable.

Sam's breath escapes her in a harsh exhale as tears of rage and sorrow well up in her eyes. She takes in the extent of her baby sister's deep-rooted trauma, her heart breaking with the weight of it all.

"Oh, T... what has she done to you?" Sam's voice wavers, her own anger momentarily eclipsed by a flood of concern and love.

In that moment, something flickers within Tara—an ember of fiery protectiveness cutting through the layers of fear and self-loathing. She straightens, her jaw set stubbornly.

"No, Amber didn't... she's not like that, Sammi. You know she'd never intentionally hurt me, not really," Tara insists, her voice holding a glimmer of defiance.

Sam's incredulity is palpable as she responds, "Are you hearing yourself right now?! She beat the shit out of you!"

Tara, her tone sharp, retorts, "Because I deserved it!"

The weight of Tara's words hangs heavy in the air, the room steeped in a charged silence. Dr. Wilson, sensing the escalating tension, makes a move as if to intervene, but Sam beats her to it. Her shoulders sag in stunned dismay, grappling with the painful realization of the depth of Tara's self-blame and the complexity of the situation they now face together.

Sam's voice lowers to a quiet murmur, heavy with resignation and sorrow. "And there it is..."

She shakes her head slowly, desperately searching Tara's eyes for a glimpse of the strong and vibrant woman she once knew. But Tara's gaze has retreated back into herself, the flicker of spirit extinguished once more.

"I don't even know you anymore," Sam whispers, her words filled with a profound sense of loss.

With a weariness that seems to weigh her down, Sam pushes herself up from the crouched position she had taken next to Tara. She wordlessly exits the room, leaving Tara curled in on herself, her body aching with heartbreak. Her jaw clenches tightly, attempting to hold back the overwhelming tide of anguish threatening to consume her.

As the door closes behind Sam, the room is enveloped in a heavy silence, the echoes of shattered relationships and unspoken pain lingering in the air. Tara remains in her slumped position, feeling the weight of her actions and the consequences they have wrought. Dr. Wilson watches, her heart heavy with the knowledge that the path to healing will be long and arduous for Tara, but she remains steadfast in her commitment to guide her patient toward a place of self-acceptance and growth.