This couldn't get any worse

One down, a million to go

So I just finished my third therapist appointment. I have one more this month and then I can either schedule more or decide against it. I honestly feel like a regular schedule would just be better, so I guess next week I'll set up a few more.

It's been officially one week since I've been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. You know the good ole PTSD. Now I am in pretty good shape compared to a lot of other people living with it, but it's still hard.

I've been doing so much better since I started going to therapy. Also don't think three therapists visits just totally changed me, cause that's not what happened. First of all me and Dianne made up, and secondly I've been calling Dr. Sanchez at least three times a week. She just listens to me and it's like a mini therapy session.

Me throwing up my guts has also gotten better. Dr. Sanchez says that there's a high possibility it came from anxiety. Bella's anniversary is soon and that's also the day I plan on telling Wesley. I'm gonna tell him everything. And I'm scared sh*tless, but it has to be done.

I'm about to meet up with Max so I can talk to him. Tell him what's actually been going on since he left. Hella nervous, but I'm honestly tired of keeping this from him. We're going to grab coffee, I'm getting a smoothie cause coffee is gross, and then talk at a park.

I pull into the parking lot and I'm sweating bullets. I am so not okay. My stomach is twisting and lurching the whole time I'm ordering. It just gets worse as I here the door open and close waiting for Max.

He finally shows up and orders a coffee. We talk for a bit and then head across the street to the park.

"So," he starts "what did you want to talk about?"

He looks over at me and all I can do is stare. He's wearing a black beanie that matches his raven black hair. He has on a long grey trench coat looking thing but it's made from different cloth. Underneath is a long sleeve black fitted top with matching black ripped jeans. His shoes are Air Force ones and he's either wearing low cut socks or none at all.

"Soph!" I look up and he's laughing.

"Were you just checking me out?"

"You wish. I was just trying to make sure you were wearing socks." I say as we sit down on a bench.

"Yeah yeah, but seriously why'd you call me out?" I look at my smoothie and then over at his hands. I grab him by the hand and stand up.

He looks up at me and then at our hands.

"I need to take you somewhere."

"But we just got here." He whines making me laugh.

"Seriously Max, it's important."

"Fine let's go then."

He gets up and we walk to his car, still holding hands. I let go and hop in his passenger seat.

"Where too?"

I give him directions, but don't tell him where we're going. When we pull into the gates he looks at me weird.

"A cemetery? What could you possibly need to show me at a cemetery."

"Oh just shut up and park over there." I say pointing to a little cove.

Once we get out I start walking ahead of him. He follows close behind careful not to step in the wrong place. We were raised to never step over a grave unless we had to. We always walk under where the feet would be, so as close as possible to the grave stone in front.

Once we get to the right one I sit down and place my hand on top of the stone.

"I know I'm a little early Bell, but I wanted to bring someone to meet you."

I look over at Max and pat the spot next to me. He sits down and looks at the grave stone.

"Bella Ruth-" he pause and looks at me before finishing.

"Vance." I nod my head at his reaction. He looks shocked and surprised.

"Is she like Wesley's long lost sister."

"That would make things a lot easier." I say and laugh.

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember what I used to always say when we talked about having kids?" He shakes his head, confused.

"Do you remember what I said I wanted to name my first-"

"Oh my god. You used to always say you wanted to name your first daughter Bella. You said it would be so cute if you could call her Bell."

"Yep, and I did."

"So she's,"

"My daughter." I finish with a smile. My beautiful daughter.

"When? Why? Who knows? Who's baby,"
He stops and looks at me wide eyed.

"There's no frickin way. Is she Wesley's daughter?"

"It says Vance doesn't it." I say rolling my eyes.

We sit in silence for a few minutes.

"So this is what happened while you were gone. Well part of what happened." I say getting up.

"It's too cold to talk about it out here, let's go back to your place." He nods and gets up.

The walk to the car is silent and so is the ride to his house. Once I sit on his couch I start speaking.

"He doesn't know."

"Who doesn't know what?"

"Wesley doesn't know she's dead."

"How is that even possible?" I start playing with the hem of my jeans avoiding his eyes.

"Soph, I asked you a question."

"How could he when he never knew I was pregnant in the first place?"

"Are you joking right now? How could you not tell him. Bella is his daughter just as much as she is yours."

"You think I don't know that. I was pissed when he left and I never felt like he had the right to know. But when I saw him at the hospital...I just. I talked with Dr. Sanchez and told her I was going to tell him."

"Good. When?"

"Tomorrow." I whisper

"What the heck, you just had the appointment today are you sure you're ready for that?"

"I have to tell him tomorrow. It's her anniversary." The one year anniversary of my daughters death.

"When is her birthday."

"She was due January 5th."

"...You never like had her."

"That's kinda what I came here to talk about."

"If you don't want to you do-"

"Max just sit down I'll be fine. I guess I should go back to thanksgiving break of last year."

Ciao
I'm so excited to write this. We finally get to see into Soph's backstory.
If you want any other characters POV leave a comment.
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