A Shattered Mirror

Cameron sat in the now-familiar chair across from Dr. Roberts, her arms loosely crossed, her body slouched, but her mind restless. It was her second therapy session, and though she had agreed to come back, she still didn't know if she was ready to dig deeper. The first session had been mostly surface-level, an uncomfortable dance around the edges of what she knew she had to face. But today, Dr. Roberts was leading her straight into the fire.

"So," Dr. Roberts started, tapping her pen lightly against her notebook, "last time, we touched on Jasmine—who she was to you and how intertwined your lives became. Today, I want to understand that timeline better. How did it start? What moments stand out to you the most?"

Cameron exhaled slowly, glancing toward the window as if the outside world held the answer. "It started at work," she finally said. "Cheyenne introduced us. She was my replacement, actually. I had just put in my two weeks when she got hired, and I—I don't know. I was drawn to her immediately."

Dr. Roberts nodded. "What drew you in?"

Cameron shrugged, fingers idly twisting the hem of her sleeve. "She was… different. Kind of reserved, but not in an unapproachable way. She carried herself like she didn't need anyone, but at the same time, I could tell she was watching, reading the room. And then, I don't know. We just—clicked. Even after I left the job, we found reasons to keep talking."

"And that's when the relationship started?"

Cameron let out a short, humorless laugh. "No. That's the thing. It wasn't a relationship. Not at first. We were just… existing in each other's spaces. Texting constantly, calling for hours. I convinced myself it was friendship, that I was fine being in her life in whatever way she allowed. But then things shifted. We got closer. The lines blurred."

Dr. Roberts watched her carefully. "Blurred how?"

Cameron hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "We got matching tattoos. Spent entire weekends together. Then one night, we—" She stopped herself, shaking her head. "It was impulsive. She had a boyfriend at the time, and I wasn't supposed to want more. But after that night, it was impossible to pretend. I told her how I felt, and she shut me down. Said she loved me, but not like that. And yet, somehow, she never let me go."

Dr. Roberts made a note before speaking again. "So, despite the rejection, she remained a constant in your life."

Cameron let out a slow breath. "Yeah. And it wasn't always bad. We had good moments—great moments. But there was always this tension. I felt like I was waiting for something, and I think she felt guilty for knowing that and keeping me close anyway."

Dr. Roberts tilted her head. "You mentioned before that you mistook drowning for devotion. Do you still feel that way?"

Cameron swallowed hard. "I think… I didn't want to believe she was capable of hurting me. Even when she wasn't actively doing anything, I still let her consume me. It was like—like she was the only thing keeping me tethered to reality, even when that reality was miserable."

Dr. Roberts nodded, considering her words before asking, "And what about you? What did you get from holding on?"

Cameron's fingers clenched against her knee. "She made me feel like I mattered. Like I wasn't just passing through life unnoticed. With her, I felt seen."

Dr. Roberts leaned forward slightly, her gaze unwavering. "And without her?"

Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. Cameron opened her mouth, then closed it. She wanted to lie, to say she was fine, that she was adjusting, that she didn't still wake up reaching for her phone just to remember there was nothing left to say. But lying here felt pointless.

"I don't know who I am without her," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

Dr. Roberts didn't react with pity, didn't try to sugarcoat it. "That's why you're here," she said simply. "Not to erase her, not to forget. But to figure out what's left of you when she's no longer in the picture."

Cameron exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair. "Feels impossible."

Dr. Roberts gave her a small, knowing smile. "Most things do until you start."

Cameron let the words sit with her. She knew she had to let go, to start over. But the idea of untangling herself from everything Jasmine had represented was exhausting. Where did she even begin?

As if reading her mind, Dr. Roberts flipped her notebook to a fresh page. "I think we've spent enough time on Jasmine today. Let's take a step back. Tell me about growing up. Your family. Your childhood."

Cameron stiffened, caught off guard. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Dr. Roberts arched her brow. "A lot more than you think. But we'll take it slow. Just tell me—when you think about your childhood, what's the first thing that comes to mind?"

Cameron hesitated, staring down at her hands. The answer was there, buried deep, but she wasn't sure she was ready to say it aloud.