Finding Us (Christian Interracial Romance)

Tainted Triumphs and Silent Prayers

Cecilia

I step into the room with my mom, clutching the strap of my handbag as if it's my only lifeline. The air is cool, tinged with that faint lavender scent that tries too hard to convince you this place is relaxing. Dr. Morales, the therapist Mom picked out, sits across from us, a warm smile on her face. Her office is filled with soft colors, framed inspirational quotes, and plants that look like they might actually be real. I wish I could absorb that peace, but my chest is tight, my mind a jumbled mess.

Mom's beside me, her hand hovering near mine, but not quite touching. I know she's worried. The weight of her gaze is almost too much to bear. She was the one who suggested this, after everything started feeling like too much. I'd said yes—more for her sake than mine. She's been trying so hard to help me and it feels like I owe her that. Maybe I owe it to myself too, but right now, it doesn't feel like it.

"So, Cecilia, Mariam," Dr. Morales starts, her voice gentle. She's younger than I expected, with curly hair that bounces when she talks. "What brings you both here today?"

Mom glances at me before she speaks. "Well, it's been a hard month for Cecilia. Winning the Grammy was a huge accomplishment, but afterward, she... well, she just seemed to... disappear. I'm worried about her." Her voice cracks a little and I know it's taking a lot for her to admit that out loud. She always tries to be so strong.

Dr. Morales nods, looking at me now, her eyes soft but probing. "Cecilia, I'm here to help, if you're comfortable sharing. Can you tell me what's been going on?"

I swallow, feeling the weight of my words pressing against my throat, but they don't come out easily. "It's... it's complicated," I say, my voice barely a whisper. I try to steady my breathing, but my chest tightens, making everything feel too close. "After I won the Grammy, I should've felt proud, right? But instead, I just felt... tainted. Most likely empty."

Mom reaches over then, gently touching my hand. "You don't have to carry this alone, mi amor," she says softly. "We're here to listen."

The knot in my throat loosens just enough that I can keep talking. "I've recently known the music industry had its dark side. But after the Grammy's, I started seeing it everywhere. The way people talk, the things they're willing to do for fame... it's like I couldn't unsee it. The manipulation, the... the lies. And it's not just people lying to each other—it's like they're lying to themselves too. I used to think I could keep my faith separate, keep my soul clean, but I'm not so sure anymore."

Dr. Morales leans forward slightly, her expression understanding. "It sounds like you're feeling a lot of disillusionment, Cecilia. Like the industry is no longer what you thought it was."

I nod slowly, blinking back the sting in my eyes. "Yeah. And it's more than that. I started seeing things that just felt... wrong. It's like I'd been walking through this fog and suddenly it lifted, and I saw everything clearly. The symbolism, the messages behind certain performances and songs... it's like there's this undercurrent, this... darkness that I'd been ignoring. And I don't know if I can ignore it anymore." My voice cracks and I hate how small I sound, but I can't stop now. "It's like it's... it's satanic. It goes against everything I believe in, everything I want to stand for."

Mom's grip tightens on my hand, but she doesn't speak. I think she's afraid of saying the wrong thing, of pushing me further into myself.

Dr. Morales looks at me for a moment, her gaze steady. "That's a heavy realization, Cecilia. I can hear how much this has shaken your faith, your sense of what's right. And it sounds like it's making you question your place in the industry, even though you've worked so hard to get where you are."