Have You Seen Me? - Kate White Page 0,6

you have difficulty recalling important information about who you are and events in your life.”

He’s reeled this off calmly enough, like he’s telling me I’ve slipped a disc or popped a blood vessel, but his words make my breath catch. How could something like this have happened to me?

“But that makes no sense,” I tell him. “I’ve never felt disconnected from my thoughts in any way.” Before I can chicken out, I ask him the terrifying question that’s been at the front of my mind. “Could—could it happen again?”

“Unfortunately, yes. A person can experience multiple episodes throughout his or her life. That’s why it’s key to determine the trigger.”

“Can something physical trigger it?” Please, I think, don’t let me have a brain tumor.

“Generally, not. The symptoms usually first develop as a response to trauma. It might be physical abuse or sexual abuse, or in certain cases, a military combat injury. It’s the brain’s way of keeping painful memories under control.”

My heart skips. I’ve never been abused or been to war, thankfully, so does that mean something traumatic has happened to me recently? Today, even?

“There’s nothing like that in my life. What—what if I were mugged on my way to work this morning?” I say, as the thought suddenly pops into my mind. “And—that would explain my purse being missing.”

“Do you think having your purse snatched would have been highly traumatic for you?”

“Well,” I respond, managing a smile. “I’m constantly advising people to be smart with their money and not let go of it stupidly—so that probably would have upset me.”

This provokes a chuckle, but his expression quickly turns serious again.

“Tell me again about last night,” he says. “Even if it’s a little fuzzy.”

“Uh, like I said, we ate at home. We’d ordered in. And we watched something on TV. A pretty typical weeknight evening these days.”

“What about earlier in the day? Do you recall anything upsetting or stressful? Something related to your job—or personal life?”

“I’ve been a little stressed about finishing the book I mentioned, but not anything I haven’t experienced before.”

Agarwal says nothing in response but instead studies me quietly, his kind eyes glistening. I can tell he’s waiting for me to elaborate. And then I realize he’s probably wondering if the trauma has to do with my husband, that he might be physically or emotionally abusive. But Hugh’s a great guy—and he’s never been abusive in any way.

“There is one thing that’s been on my mind,” I say. There’s no harm in mentioning it, I decide. “When my husband and I got engaged, we were on the same page about wanting kids one day, but lately I’ve . . . I’ve had second thoughts. I’m not totally sure anymore, and it’s been, well . . . it’s been a source of a little friction. But we’re hardly at any kind of crisis point.”

And we’re not.

“Where do things stand at the moment?” Agarwal asks.

“We agreed a few weeks ago to table the discussion for a while. With the pressure off, I feel it’ll be easier for me to make a rational decision. And I’ve started seeing a therapist, someone to talk it over with.

“So it’s stressful but hardly traumatic,” I add, shrugging. “It hardly seems like something that could make me disconnect from my identity.”

Agarwal nods, as if weighing my comment.

“The traumatic event doesn’t have to have happened recently,” he says. “It could be an episode from your past that’s rising to the surface again for some reason.”

I look off again, thinking. Suddenly my lips part as my brain pries something away, like I’m opening an orange or tangerine and the thin white membrane is tearing apart. No, this can’t really be what it’s all about, can it?

I glance back at Agarwal, and the alertness in his eyes intensifies. He knows he’s touched a nerve.

“Is there something that’s been troubling you lately, Ally?” he continues. “Something from your past?”

“Nothing I can think of,” I lie. “At least not off the top of my head.”

5

Agarwal’s expression gives nothing away this time, but I can sense anticipation morphing quickly into resignation below the surface. Though he seems caring and competent, this isn’t something I intend to discuss with him.

He studies me for another minute before speaking. “The therapist you’re seeing. How many sessions have you had so far?”

“Uh, I’ve seen her five or six times.”

“Do you know if your therapist does cognitive behavioral therapy? That’s what is most often recommended in these cases.”

“Um, yes, I remember seeing that in her bio.”

“If